Mark Rothko
Mark Rothkowitz Rothko (1903–70) was raised in an Orthodox Jewish family in Dvinsk Latvia, rejecting Jewish observance as a teenager only once they were in the US. Yet his life in New York was inflected by Jewish culture at nearly every turn, especially in the artistic company he kept, including Adolph Gottlieb, Barnett Newman and Louise Nevelson. Plus the curators and critics he dealt and argued with eg Clement Greenberg and Harold Rosenberg. Examine his early works in this blog.
Rothko began with the idea of a painted environment in the 1950s, when he created his Seagram murals for a posh NY restaurant which was still under construction at the time. After completing 40 great paintings in dark reds and browns, he loathed his work being seen as fancy wallpaper. Rothko had a fit of rage, reneged on the deal and withdrew his works in 1958. Alas Rothko’s depression & paranoia were overwhelming him, so the artist stored the paintings until they were given to London’s Tate Gallery
While Rothko had succeeded by the 1960s, he felt many viewers failed to grasp the true significance of his works. So he accepted a chapel commission from Franco-American oil philanthropists John and Dominique de Menil in 1964. The chapel was to be the culminating monument in the Catholic University of St Thomas in Houston Texas. Rothko’s wanted to evoke religious responses from viewers. But why was it so crucial to an appreciation of his work?
The project’s first architect, Philip Johnson, had a Greek cross in mind. The chapel was originally intended to be Roman Catholic, modelled on the Byzantine Cathedral of St Maria Assunta in Torcello Venice. But without a gold dome or mosaic of the Madonna and Child or bell tower, the chapel was no northern Italian basilica. Rothko accepted the doctrinal context of the chapel and allowed the 14 Stations of the Cross on the exterior wall.
The project’s first architect, Philip Johnson, had a Greek cross in mind. The chapel was originally intended to be Roman Catholic, modelled on the Byzantine Cathedral of St Maria Assunta in Torcello Venice. But without a gold dome or mosaic of the Madonna and Child or bell tower, the chapel was no northern Italian basilica. Rothko accepted the doctrinal context of the chapel and allowed the 14 Stations of the Cross on the exterior wall.
When the dedication of the chapel occurred in 1971, an interfaith service signified the official opening.
Buddhists
In his early 60s, Mark worked on the Rothko Chapel for 3 years so that he could feel the immersive experience he was seeking. His dark paintings contained dark texture effects. The hues varied, depending on the light intensity, so the paintings were different for every visitor. The human emotion expressed in the different colour values were developed from layered pigments, a charged quality that forced audiences to examine their own emotions.. and made them cry.
Rothko privately sensed a chance to probe feelings that he admitted had been shaped by Jewish experiences of trauma and transcendence. He said that working within the norms of a Christian space was not a rejection of his heritage as much as the freedom to engage religion on his own terms.
The triptych was a medieval form invented to provide altarpieces illustrating generic crucifixions. So the chapel’s most patently Christian gesture was found in Rothko’s 3 nearly identical triptychs which encouraged the viewer’s devotion, as they would a traditional Christian altarpiece.
Dominique de Menil said the chapel was oriented toward the sacred, but it imposed no traditional environment. It offered a place where common orientation could be found, an orientation towards God and to man’s highest aspirations.
At a time when religious observance in the U.S was declining, Rothko was betting on the relevance of religious art! He deliberately tried to harness the conventions of religious viewing, wanting the chapel paintings to be approached with the fervour that a Last Judgment could induce. So Rothko invited viewers to approach his works with visual and spiritual expectations raised by Christian tradition; a resource not seen in Jewish art. In a middle-class part of Houston, on a quiet oak-lined street, the windowless Rothko Chapel was surrounded by a big lawn, a wall of overgrown bamboo, and a reflecting pool with Barnett Newman’s imposing steel monument, Broken Obelisk. But the suite of Rothko paintings that lined the room was transformative.
Rothko hoped his works would create spiritual encounters, like the great old religious master pieces. Despite his enormous success by the mid-1960s, the chapel was giving Rothko his first opportunity to realise his late career goal. He wanted a circuit of permanent paintings that would have a great visceral impact on viewers.
Rothko privately sensed a chance to probe feelings that he admitted had been shaped by Jewish experiences of trauma and transcendence. He said that working within the norms of a Christian space was not a rejection of his heritage as much as the freedom to engage religion on his own terms.
The triptych was a medieval form invented to provide altarpieces illustrating generic crucifixions. So the chapel’s most patently Christian gesture was found in Rothko’s 3 nearly identical triptychs which encouraged the viewer’s devotion, as they would a traditional Christian altarpiece.
Dominique de Menil said the chapel was oriented toward the sacred, but it imposed no traditional environment. It offered a place where common orientation could be found, an orientation towards God and to man’s highest aspirations.
At a time when religious observance in the U.S was declining, Rothko was betting on the relevance of religious art! He deliberately tried to harness the conventions of religious viewing, wanting the chapel paintings to be approached with the fervour that a Last Judgment could induce. So Rothko invited viewers to approach his works with visual and spiritual expectations raised by Christian tradition; a resource not seen in Jewish art. In a middle-class part of Houston, on a quiet oak-lined street, the windowless Rothko Chapel was surrounded by a big lawn, a wall of overgrown bamboo, and a reflecting pool with Barnett Newman’s imposing steel monument, Broken Obelisk. But the suite of Rothko paintings that lined the room was transformative.
Rothko hoped his works would create spiritual encounters, like the great old religious master pieces. Despite his enormous success by the mid-1960s, the chapel was giving Rothko his first opportunity to realise his late career goal. He wanted a circuit of permanent paintings that would have a great visceral impact on viewers.
In 1968 Rothko’s health deteriorated, and he became increasingly isolated. Rothko suicided in 1970, before the final installation of his 14 chapel paintings. A year later the Seagram murals were delivered to the chapel, lowered via the cupola and installed for the opening. At the 1971 dedication, Dominique de Menil praised Rothko’s work for bringing viewers to the threshold of the divine. Since Rothko’s death, the Chapel has become a pilgrimage site, won by the artist’s willingness to probe human experience. Note the creation of the Rothko Chapel Óscar Romero Award in recognition of courageous human rights advocacy and religious pluralism.
After long consultation in 1999, the Rothko Chapel had a year of renovations. For those drawn primarily by the chapel’s interfaith and intercultural mission, the renovation was timely, gaining renewed art-historical importance. But I still ask: what would have led Mark Rothko, a non-practicing Jew, to work with the de Menils, who were motivated by their interest in ecumenical Christianity? They all wanted the chapel to become a place of peace, meditation and prayer! Today its board of directors is led by Rothko’s very clever son Dr Christopher Rothko, and the chapel is in constant use.
In his book Mark Rothko: From the Inside Out, Dr Rothko asked about the influence of Judaism on his father’s art. Dad was the classic depressive Jew who was still open and honest about his Jewish soul-searching, whenever he was among his closest Jewish comrades. Rothko biographer Annie Cohen-Solal also examined Rothko’s relationship to Judaism in her book Mark Rothko: Toward the Light in the Chapel. She argued that throughout life, Mark remained connected to his father’s Orthodox Jewish ways and his own Talmudic education. Mark’s close friend poet Stanley Kunitz felt strongly that Rothko belonged to a great Judaic tradition, which was central to his art and life. It had to do with the sense of being! The best reference is by Aaron Rosen.
The Rothko Chapel, featuring the famous murals by painter Mark Rothko, closed after sustaining damage during Hurricane Beryl in 2024, now awaiting $30 million restoration.
I had no idea why Rothko's paintings are so dark and difficult to see in your photos, but then I have never visited Texas. Brainly wrote that the dark and minimalistic nature of the paintings encouraged reflection. By reducing the visual distractions, Rothko was creating a meditative atmosphere where viewers could connect with their own spirituality. But did it happen?
ReplyDeleteDeb
DeleteThat makes sense, but it seems like an endless amount of work for Rothko, with nothing much to see. At least from a distance.
Hi Hels
ReplyDeleteI really enjoy Rothko and I think his work is beautiful and even moving because it taps into something basic and deeply-wired within ourselves ... but, for me, it does feels a bit disjointed/ for people (incl. Rothko) to shoehorn his work into some kind of religious or spiritual experience.
It feels a bit too mystical to me.
Liam
DeleteRothko is normally full of colour and form. So now I wonder if the chapel Rothkos were his idea or the three architects'.
I didn't know Mark Rothko did a church design. I do like that plaza. The statue is quite interesting.
ReplyDeleteErika
DeleteI suppose the complex was unpopular with half of the Houston community, so it will be interesting to see how they rebuild after the hurricane damage.
What a magnificent story on Rothko
ReplyDeleteroentare
DeleteI thought I knew a lot about art and architecture (given limitations only by centuries and continents). But I have never seen anything like the Houston Chapel.
Perhaps Rothko was showing his value when he invited viewers to approach his works with visual and spiritual expectations.
Never heard of him or his paintings, so found this post interesting and informative, thank you
ReplyDeleteJo-Anne
DeleteThe biggest collection of Rothko's work is in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC, if you get a chance to visit.
A tormented man. His art to me is dark.
ReplyDeleteMargaret
DeleteRothko was definitely tormented.
But because the chapel was to became a ecumenical centre, it was designed to be open to all religions. Once it was a centre for international cultural, religious and philosophical exchanges, perhaps the darkness was to specifically show neutrality to all faiths.
The Rothko Chapel, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, closed in March 2019 for restoration, reopening in 2020. Renowned for its 14 monumental Mark Rothko canvases, the renovation enhanced the skylight, lighting, and entryway, aligning with the original design to improve the interaction with Rothko's art.
ReplyDeleteDuring Hurricane Beryl, heavy rain and gale-force winds caused roof leaks, resulting in water damage to the ceiling and walls. Three of Mark Rothko’s panels have also been affected, to various degrees. Whitten & Proctor Fine Art Conservation has been engaged to assess the damage, with repair costs still undetermined.
ArchDaily
Deletewhat a dilemma :( Restored in 2019, greatly damaged by hurricane in 2024 and now facing years of debating about rebuilding and paying the costs.
Do the Whitten & Proctor Fine Art Conservation people feel obligated to replace the original architecture and murals exactly? Or will there be a debate about what of the original plan could be improved?
Boa noite de quarta-feira. Obrigado pela visita e comentário. Não conhecia a história. Obrigado por dividir conosco.
ReplyDeleteLuiz
DeleteIt may not be worth reading up on the damaged Chapel, but it would be worth locating Rothko's arts.
I remember the story of the restaurant paintings. They are now in Tate Modern in London but I see you mention that. It is a splendid setting for them.
ReplyDeleteRachel
DeleteYou are quite right. The Tate reported that Rothko was commissioned to paint the murals for the fancy N.Y Four Seasons restaurant. He set to work, having constructed a scaffold in his studio to match the exact dimensions of the restaurant. But the murals were darker in mood than his previous work. Recognising that the worldly setting of a restaurant would not be the ideal location for such a work, Rothko withdrew from the commission and presented the series to the Tate Gallery.
My question is: why did he accept a restaurant commission in the first place?
I would love to see this. Rothko is the favourite artist of one of my best friends, so I've known his work since my teens. Despite that, I knew neither that he was Jewish nor that he died by suicide.
ReplyDeleteMandy
DeleteGood on you for being familiar with Rothko.
Now is not a good time to see the Chapel because of Hurricane Beryl's damage, but I am confident-ish that the reconstruction will be loyal to the original design.
I was closely aware of his cultural background but I was never confident about (anyone's) suicide and would not have included it in lectures.