Farming color
I’ll start this note with one subjective vision: to me, the perfect landscapes of pure color come from one gaze, Rothko’s. His artwork mesmerizes this eye beyond belief.
Now, whether you like his paintings or not, something is fascinating about what could seem puerile: the imperfection of the geometric color spots. But when they are intentional and serve a specific purpose, they can catch the eye.
In time, one realizes that we not only grow in knowledge; the eye, just like the ear or the palate, is educated through the years. What once seemed to us to be a visual proposal lacking sense is, decades later, fascinating. What changed? Not colors and certainly not the image composition; that was us. Things that today have more importance on social media—a selfie with Michelangelo’s David or whatever iconic masterpiece or monument, rather than admiring them and spending enough time appraising them— can burn a golden opportunity, such as letting the artwork inhabit us, to melt the author’s soul and vision with our own senses. I still believe that is the real goal in traveling: to fill yourself with all that those other places and people have to offer.
Rothko understood that very well. He found the meaning beyond objects and concretions, unleashing color and sensations on canvas, including those that come from the dark: melancholy, sadness, depression, and uneasiness.
As with many other visual artists, his life was conquered by death, that is, suicide. However, you can still meet him, and today you don’t even have to travel far; if you can’t afford it, open your cellphone and type his name in the browser, or even better, you may go to a bookstore, go to the art section, look for one edited about him and his work, and leaf through it. When you do, don’t think, just feel.
Farming color
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