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Markus Rothkovitch – aka Mark Rothko (1903-1970) – is one of those artists who undoubtedly still causes discussion today. Following the saying “for better or worse, the important thing is that we talk about it”, the famous American abstract expressionist is judged like his no less important Italian colleague Lucio Fontana. Art critics and the virgin public are divided between shouting about his masterpiece when faced with his works or frivolously commenting “I could have done that too”.
The Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris, with its retrospective dedicated to the artist, helps to get a personal idea: 115 of Rothko’s paintings will be on display until April 2nd, a stylistic diary spanning a lifetime. “My art is not abstract, but lives and breathes […] I’m interested in expressing only essential human emotions.”
Never leave unmoved
This is the main philosophy of the painter, who tells viewers room by room how his works can sadden, sometimes give energy, other times give calm and thoughtfulness, without ever leaving one impassive. Present in the exhibition are early works, including the “subway paintings”, paintings that have the New York subway as their setting or the self-portrait of 1936, where a mysterious Rothko wears glasses with dark lenses and an interesting monochromatic background, a reference to the self-portraits of Rembrandt. However, the artist feels frustrated in his unrealistic attempt to paint people: “Whoever has attempted to reproduce the human figure has mutilated it.”
Aeschylus and Nietzsche
In the early 1940s he then tried – deeply loving the themes of Aeschylus and Nietzsche – to approach mythology and the surrealist current, with admirable subjects ranging from the famous Antigone to the sacrifice of Iphigenia. However, it was only around 1946 that the real artistic turning point aimed at abstraction occurred, thanks to the famous Multiforms, dense and organic compositions with large vertical formats. Since 1950, Rothko’s paintings have become immediately recognizable for the characteristics that made him famous: two or three rectangular shapes superimposed on each other, which play with an infinite range of color tones, thus creating the unmistakable “vibration” present in all his works, so similar to the allure of a melodious symphony or a successful poem.
The sensual brushstrokes give the works an almost dreamlike atmosphere, but the artist reiterates that he is not a simple colourist, making their format even larger, almost as if he wanted to encompass the unaware viewer with immenseness: “I’m not interested in colour. . It is light that I seek.”