Untitled 1970

This painting, by Mark Rothko, is layers and layers of red, built up into something that vibrates. I can only imagine what it might have been like to stand in front of a canvas, wrestling with this color, trying to make it sing. It’s not just about slapping paint on a surface; it’s about coaxing something out of it. A feeling, an emotion, maybe even a sense of the sublime. Look at the edges where you can see the strokes. Rothko thinned the paint, stained the canvas, pushed and pulled the pigment around until it glowed. Think about Barnett Newman, or even back to Monet's waterlilies. All these painters, in their own way, reaching for something beyond representation, something deeply felt. And it’s never quite resolved. The painting remains open, a space for contemplation, a site of inquiry. It's a conversation that continues, inviting us to bring our own experiences, our own feelings, to the act of seeing.