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| Mark Rothko - Black Form Painting |
Apart from a very handy black dress that hangs under used in my wardrobe, I tend to view black as a heavy, burdensome colour. A colour associated with the unknown, depression and a threatening emptiness. Worn at funerals and revered as a symbol of angst and introspection by Goths and Emos. A colour identified with distortion and negativity; black and white thinking, the shadow of the yin and yang.
Yet my perception was altered upon experiencing Mark Rothko's Black Form paintings.
During the Summer of 2008 a rather jittery Younger Dad proposed to me in the familiar comfort of our living room. I promptly accepted his hand in marriage. Actually, I asked him to repeat his proposal again. I wanted to savour the moment. Poor Younger Dad. Asking once was nerve wrackingly bad enough. But twice? I was an exceptionally lucky girl. We had the engagement ring made; it has a diamond flanked by two sea green sapphires. Green is my favourite colour.
So I wanted to give Younger Dad something special in return. As part of my engagement present I bought two tickets to a Mark Rothko retrospective at the Tate Modern followed by a sumptuous dinner at the Oxo Tower restaurant.
On a Saturday afternoon in October I surprised Younger Dad with two tickets to the exhibition. He was over joyed as he really appreciates Rothko's work. So that evening we made our way to the Embankment. I remember the sunset well. Looking out of the upper deck window of the packed bus it was as if a bottle of claret had been nonchalantly poured over the heavens; a glowing mosaic of ruby splats and splodges staining the Autumn sky. What a visually vibrant start to a special occasion.
We spent at least an hour at the retrospective. I found myself drawn to a smaller room that housed a selection of Mark Rothko's Black Form paintings. The space was busy; full of post work chatter and the sharp clinking of wine glasses. I sat in front of one of the pieces and found myself seduced into stillness and quietude. The painting lured me into its darkness and invited an uncertain plunge into the deep space that dwells within my inner core. A starless night is what I discovered within. Not to sound too pretentious I touched upon an existential void; an empty nothingness. An abyss. And in this blackness I felt comforted and calmed. A serene blanket wrapped around me that drowned out the external hubbub. And I felt reassured, bolstered by the solidity of Rothko's Black.
Visually Rothko's Black may seem uninteresting, even bland. What's there to actually look at? But emotionally it had such a profound impact on my senses. I could have meditated in front of Black for hours. But with a soft tap on my shoulder Younger Dad distracted me from my reverie and off we strolled to satiate ourselves with a four course meal at the Oxo Tower.
Black isn't actually a colour; its the absence of all colours. In a positive light, it represents an emptiness in which anything can disappear an re-emerge anew imbued with potential and possibility.
Mark Rothkos's Black paintings hang in the Mark Rothko Chapel, a tranquil environment that offers an 'intimate sanctuary to people of every belief'. I think I'm going to add the Chapel to my bucket list of essential places to visit before I'm paying for an annual subscription to readers digest and sucking on humbugs.
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| Mark Rothko Chapel |
I never realised that black could be so spiritually renewing and transformative.
I am linking up this post with Midlife Single Mum's very imaginative Art I Heart meme. The idea is that you choose one piece of art you feel drawn to and write a short story about it.
I titally see what you mean - his black isn't just black. There's a depth to it that you could lose yoursef inside. Very interesting, who would have thought? And how lovely that it is associated with your engagement present to your OH. I thnk this is the first entry to the linky that isn't owned by the writer - good, I like the variety. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Don't worry about the typos! Lovely to have your comment!
DeleteSorry about the typos - totally, yourself
ReplyDeleteIt almost looks more purple in places (I love purple). I've never heard of the artist but I'm glad I have now. There's nothing wrong with humbugs! I used to love them when I was little, but I've not had them recently. I may well go out and get some now! Polly x
ReplyDeleteYou are right. It does. Together it creates a dark effect. I love humbugs too - minty and creamy. Yum.
DeleteOne of my favourite things about the colour black is that it is, as you note, the absence of colour. Just absorbing that fact is a task in itself. I can see why you were absorbed in the exhibition so much. It is not a colour I would expect someone to gain a sense of reassurance from though. What an interesting night out you had! Soul food by the sounds of it. :)
ReplyDeleteYes it was definitely soul food - very calming and relaxing. My reaction totally took me aback.
DeleteI love a bit of Rothko, his work is quite literally awesome. But I learned black wasn't just black years ago, when I went through a phase of wearing it head to toe back in my fashion editor days. No two blacks are the same and some of them are shockingly different, I was often stepping out of direct sunlight so nobody else would notice!!
ReplyDeleteHow intesting! Like any other colour black will have a variety of shades too. The exhibition was brilliant.
DeleteWow! These paintings are really interesting! Never thought that black can do that for a painting.
ReplyDeleteNo, I know, neither did I!
DeleteVery interesting - and wonderfully written. What a wonderful engagement date you had with Younger Dad. The Rothko chapel looks intriguing. Where is it?
ReplyDeleteYes, it was a lovely time. I think it resides somewhere in the States. Need to find out. The Chapel has a website.
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