Bust-length Sketch of Woman in Coat and Scarf 

Curator: Immediately, there’s an intriguing sense of unfinishedness, of a fleeting impression, even—dare I say—a mood. Editor: Indeed. What we have here is an ink and pen drawing titled, “Bust-length Sketch of Woman in Coat and Scarf,” attributed to Mark Rothko. Curator: Rothko? The master of color fields did this? It's raw, so incredibly different from what I associate with him. I keep getting drawn to the swirling lines that make up the hair. There's a frantic energy to it. Editor: Note the almost paradoxical nature of the image; whilst executed using a simple, limited medium, it possesses an arresting immediacy through the contours that construct the form. Rothko uses the fluidity of ink to suggest form, weight, and the textural qualities of clothing. The blank paper, by stark contrast, defines space and light. Curator: She seems caught in thought, lost in her own world. You get this sense of vulnerability and contemplation through these fragmented lines. It’s strange, that. You can make something so open by doing very little, no? Editor: The line work could be analyzed to unveil meaning. The repetition suggests, possibly, anxiety and introspection as if we are presented with an external and internal portrait. Curator: I feel like the sketch almost anticipates Rothko's later abstractions. He's stripping away the details, focusing on the essential emotions and forms. Editor: Quite so. It reflects an economy of expression. Perhaps the essence of modernism lies within these choices. Curator: Thinking about it, the piece whispers of winter, I reckon. It must be the scarf and coat. But also maybe something more—a coldness captured in these lines. I’d like to believe he succeeded in this goal. Editor: What speaks to me are the pure formal considerations, the structure underpinning its existence; how space and form, absence and presence converse. Curator: I'll leave our listeners to decide what whispers they discern as they stand before this interesting early sketch.