The last Rothko on paper

Pace, the leading international contemporary art gallery, opens a new location, its ninth, in Hanover Square, London, a completely renovated square, with an extraordinary exhibition by Russian-American painter Mark Rothko (Dvinsk, Russia, 1930; New York, 1970), best known for his mesmerizing paintings of monumental color fields that envelop the viewer and invoke the metaphysical.

The exhibition titled Mark Rothko 1968: Cleaning Upand which will be open until November 13th, brings together 17 key paintings made using the acrylic on paper technique and in a comparatively smaller formatin the late 1960s, a significant and prolific period in the artist's career, despite his increasingly fragile physical state and tumultuous personal life.

In 1968, Rothko's health seriously deteriorates when he suffers a near-fatal aortic aneurysm, for which he is hospitalized for three weeks. The doctor advises him to stop painting, which Rothko refuses. They make a commitment to significantly reduce the large scale of their paintings and work exclusively on paper rather than canvas. Despite him, Rothko continued to paint feverishly with renewed enthusiasm for color, captivated by the effect of acrylic paint.that he had just discovered.

“These works on paper made by my father in difficult times, with delicate health and restrictions, are my favorites, because represent the completion of your lifelong effort to refine your vision of the limitless. They are proof of how my father dealt with illness and depression through painting. Every day he always started again”, says Christian Rothko, son of Mark Rothko, a psychologist by profession who, together with his sister Kate, became the greatest authority on the artist's work from New York.

“The paintings that make up the exhibition almost all come from the family,” says Elliot McDonald, director of Pace Gallery, which has represented Rothko’s legacy since the 1970s. McDonald, who stands in front of the works, installed without frames or glass, as the painter liked, he explains: “Although he was forced to reduce the scale, from his characteristic monumental canvas to a more intimate size paper, These works on paper have the same extraordinary strength, the same evocative power and an equally rich and imaginative color palette. These works on paper create that magical illusion of an infinite and luminous space” ·

Christian Rothko adds: “Throughout his career, he has always worked on the role at certain periods. He wanted us to see all of his works, regardless of large or small format, asor a human and intimate dialogue with the viewer, full of emotions. He made them with the same purpose of transmitting a genuine experience.” In fact, this intimacy especially translates into the paper technique because it has an inherently skin-like quality due to its vulnerability. The exhibition, with works like small jewels, encourages intimate examination, offering an exceptional meditative quality.

Christopher Rothko was just six years old when his father committed suicide in 1970. His childhood memories are pleasant but limited, as he was protected from many negative aspects. “In fact, I saw him as if he were my grandfather,” he says. “I got to know his more playful and theatrical side, which few knew about. For him, I was like a gift and he told me that. He liked to take me to his studio and give me rolls of paper and brushes to paint, and he would play me music albums. We listened to classical music together, mostly Mozart, and more Mozart; we argued because he preferred The Magic Flute and me Don Giovanni. He always said: although Mozart seemed very happy, his music was a cry through his smile. Music for Rothko was fundamental. “There was always music in the house,” remembers Christopher. “The music expresses exactly the kind of emotional, pre-verbal and deeply sensual experience that he wanted his paintings to awaken in the viewer.”.

Christian grew up surrounded by his father's works and, in fact, still owns works from all periods. “One of the ones that moved him most is the one in the dining room, and which is now at MoMA. You have the right Slow whirlpool at the seasidein which he portrayed himself passionately with my mother, dancing with her between the sea and the sky, in the neo-surrealist style”.

Rothko was a man with a reserved personality, and although no one saw him paint, Christopher remembers his method and routines. “His way of working was both spontaneous and rational.. He was not an “action painting” painter, for whom what counts is the hand gesture and the line. I always had a plan, an idea to start with, but I applied many layers of color and pondered as each layer dried. Depending on the result, he could change his initial idea. It took a long time to correct any details”

Mark Rothko did not accept anyone's rules, but created his own. He had a work schedule as if he were a businessman. This is how his son remembers it: “He started at 8 am and stayed until 6 pm, six days a week. Then he returned home and the family was another universe where there was no talk of painting. Although, I loved going out with friends and talking about philosophy, theater and other painters, especially their influences., by the masters of the Italian Renaissance or Matisse. He loved visiting museums and churches because what really interested him was how other artists approach space and passions.”

misunderstandings

Over the course of twelve years, Christopher Rothko wrote a book of essays entitled Inside out, in which he offers a new approach to his father's work and aims to clarify the many misunderstandings about his work. He tells us two fundamental ones: “They say that his paintings darkened over the years because he struggled with depression, but in reality it was simply a choice. He adopted a darker style because he didn't want people to see his painting as “pretty”, but to go beyond. For him, beauty must be at the service of feelings and ideas. He was a man concerned with existential questions and, therefore, his paintings are like a constant conversation with whoever is in front of him.” And he adds: “For my father, art was a profound form of communication.”

Perhaps that's why one of Mark Rothko's best-known phrases is “I speak through my colors”. Through masterful manipulation of color, he delved into the depths of himself and the human condition. He wrote: “I just want to express basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, misfortune, etc.”, and declared: “The fact that so many people break down and cry when they come across my paintings shows that I can communicate these basic human emotions.“.

Just another big misunderstanding that Christopher Rothko wanted to clear up is the fact that many people don't know how to approach the extreme level of abstraction of Rothko's classical compositions. “Some have suggested that they are empty compositions, that there is nothing,” he says. “Far away, You have to understand that a Rothko painting is not just visual. It's an experience. He wouldn't have spent years painting hundreds of rectangles if there was nothing there. His compositions are not nihilistic. This is a big mistake.”

Exactly the title of the exhibition Cleaning up, as specified by Elliot McDonald, director of the Pace gallery, refers to this “spiritual emptying”, and to Rothko's need to erase all external influences, to achieve the pure essence, an idea that is reflected in all of his works. Ultimately, this exhibition offers viewers a rare glimpse into the artist's most spontaneous practice as he experimented with color and mediumfree from the demands of large-scale screens.

“It allows viewers an intimate encounter, fulfilling Rothko’s desire to break down the barriers between artist and viewer,” concludes McDonald. Rothko suggested, perhaps jokingly because he was so tongue-in-cheek, that the ideal distance to engage with these works was 18 inches, reflecting his own proximity to the paintings as he made them.

This exhibition coincides with Tate Britain's landmark exhibition of the murals Seagram 1958 by Rothko in dialogue with paintings by JMW Tornero, a British painter he deeply admired. The set of large-scale paintings originally intended for the Four Seasons restaurant in New York was lent by the artist to the Tate in 1969, arriving in London in 1970.