On Mark Rothko
21 January 2019
Tate Modern. Level 3: The solemn ecology of the Seagram murals. On my journey across the Baltic ports, where I was shooting my selected Bloomberg New Contemporaries 2018 film, Anina, I often thought of that room. On my first encounter, I was provoked by the paintings. Gradually, I saw the faint pulse of the abysses. Rothko taught me that answers reside in ‘No’s’ and it is them that define you. The cinematography of Anina alludes to his lifework.
While onboard the MS Anina, I distinctly remember a conversation with a sailor. Between his fingers, ships appeared like dots in rings of cardamom. His cornea glittered with the yolk of sunset, steadily altering into coal. He told me of a time they docked at Bilbao. A friend encouraged him to visit a famous museum of modern art. That friend was married to a painter and she was infatuated with the museum’s collection. Passing through the halls, the sailor enjoyed the works until he encountered a painting. He described it simply as ‘three horizontal lines’. In a cavalier attitude, he told me how these lines had travelled the world and been sold for millions. Everyone in New York, Paris and London agreed in the end, ‘What fine lines’! We laughed and then changed the subject. Nonetheless, I was stricken by the impact this interaction had on him and its familiarity. The only painting that features three horizontal lines at Guggenheim Museum Bilbao, is Untitled, 1952-53 by Mark Rothko.
Previous Story
Blog Post: Luke Oxley