No.18 1951

Mark Rothko made "No. 18" with oil paint, and when you look at it, you can almost feel the painting coming into being, like it shifted and emerged through trial, error, and intuition. I sympathize with Rothko; he must have stood back and thought, "Not quite right." Imagine him layering those rectangles, one on top of the other. The paint isn't too thick, but it's there, and it shapes how you experience the painting. I’m particularly drawn to that thin stripe between the orange and the white. It isn't just a line, but a gesture communicating feeling and meaning. This piece relates to Rothko's broader exploration of color and form and makes me think about Barnett Newman and Clyfford Still, too. Artists inspire each other across time, and painting is a conversation. There's ambiguity and uncertainty, which lets us have different takes and meanings.