The Effect of War On Art - The Work of Mark Rothko

Louisiana State University
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LSU Master's Theses Graduate School
2010
The effect of war on art: the work of Mark Rothko

Elizabeth Leigh Doland
Louisiana State University and Agricultural and Mechanical College
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Doland, Elizabeth Leigh, "The effect of war on art: the work of Mark Rothko" (2010). LSU Master's Theses. 2986.
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THE EFFECT OF WAR ON ART:
THE WORK OF MARK ROTHKO
A Thesis
Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the

Louisiana State University and
Agricultural and Mechanical College
in partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree of
Master of Arts in Liberal Arts
in
The Interdepartmental Program in Liberal Arts
by
Elizabeth Doland
B.A., Louisiana State University, 2007
May 2010
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ABSTRACT…………………………………………………………………iii
CHAPTER
1 INTRODUCTION……………………………………………........1
2 EARLY LIFE……………………………………………………....3
Yale Years……………………………………………………6
Beginning Life as Artist……………………………………...7
Milton Avery…………………………………………………9
3 GREAT DEPRESSION EFFECTS………………………………...13

Artists’ Union………………………………………………...15
The Ten……………………………………………………….17
WPA………………………………………………………….19
Child Art……………………………………………………...20
4 SURREALIST YEARS
Nietzsche……………………………………………………...23
Ancient Greeks………………………………………………..25
European Masters – Fall of Paris……………………………...27
Miró…………………………………………………………...32
5 POST-WAR PERIOD
Abstract Expressionism……………………………………….37
Multiforms…………………………………………………….38
Color Blocks…………………………………………………..41
Murals………………………………………………………....49
Darkened Works………………………………………………52
6 CONCLUSION……………………………………………………..57
REFERENCES………………………………………………………………..59
VITA…………………………………………………………………………..60
ii
ABSTRACT
My goal for this thesis was to adequately illustrate the effect war can have on art and
artists. I chose to single out one particular artist who lived and worked during a time of war and
explore his life and work. My choice of artist was not random: I chose an individual who was
particularly concerned about his external environment, and was active in the political and social
issues of the time. My subject is Mark Rothko, a Russian-Jewish artist who emigrated from
Russia as a boy and spent his life in the hotspot of artistic inspiration, New York City. Rothko
was sensitive to socio-political matters and his involvement with politics affected his work. In
order to fully comprehend the artist and his creations, I did a thorough investigation into the
artist’s life; studying his influences, exploring his philosophies, and examining his works. It is
difficult to trace the evolution of the style and themes Rothko employed at certain stages in his
life because the artist rarely dated his paintings. Only years later, when he made an inventory of
his work, did he date them, but without records and entirely relying on his memory. Even so, I
was able to assess his work and came to the conclusion that Rothko was heavily influenced by
the war going on around him, as well as the aftermath of the First World War and the instability
of the Great Depression. From this research, I can deduce that Mark Rothko was a product of his
war-torn environment, of which his work was a true reflection.
iii
1. INTRODUCTION
During the first half of the 20th century, the world was rocked by two world wars and the
Great Depression. Economic shortcomings and violent threats on personal freedoms were
common to some. Emigration was at an all time high while Europeans were struggling to find
solace, which most had done by coming America. Every aspect of life was affected by some
strain of the wars or the Depression, and the art world was not an exception. Artists before,
during, and after the First World War found influences and inspiration from their violent and
unsteady surroundings, birthing several art movements. World War II did the same for many
American artists. The war and Depression gave plenty of topics for artists to paint and discuss,
which resulted in America’s first big movement of its own, Abstract Expressionism. Also called
Color Field or Action Painting, this movement was born from artists in New York who were at
the center of the international art world, which had relocated to the States when Paris was
captured by the Nazis in 1940. Emerging from Surrealist influences and having deep roots in
mythology, Abstract Expressionism was not quick to surface; many artists were exploring
primitive subjects and biomorphic origins in order to escape the reality of their situation in the
world. However, these influences soon gave way to the idea that art is an expression, and the
experience of art is the experience of creating the work itself. Representations and symbols
disappear while forms, shapes and colors were used as mediums.
One of the most influential artists of the Abstract Expressionist movement did not
consider himself an Abstract Expressionist. Mark Rothko did not wish to be categorized in any
group, and did not consider himself to be a part of the Abstract Expressionists, even though he
was one of the most prominent of the artists. Rothko found his way to expressionism by
exploring the past, desperately looking for a way to express himself in his dismal world. In the
1
progression of his works, one can see Rothko’s influence move from the Greeks and primordial
to expression and freedom. He traded his figures and myths for shapes and colors. Mark Rothko
was a sensitive, nervous man who did not fare well in the turmoil of his lifetime. His only
consolation was his art, which he continued to alter and perfect until his death.
2
2 EARLY LIFE
The Russian Pale of Settlement, also called the Jewish Pale, was the area extending from
the Baltic to the Black Sea in the end of the 19th and into the 20th century. Dubbed “the world’s
largest ghetto at the turn of the century,” 1 it was the home of nearly five million Jews who had
been forced there by the edict of the czar. The province of Vitebsk was in the northeast part of
the Pale, now the Latvian S.S.R. The largest city of Vitebsk was Dvinsk. 2 In this city in early
20th century Czarist Russia, Marcus Rothkowitz (changing name to Mark Rothko as an adult)
was born on September 25, 1903. Before the First World War, Dvinsk had a population of
roughly 90,000, with almost half being Jewish, and was a busy railroad junction as well as an
unusually developed industrial town. After the turn of the century, labor unrest was constant, but
Rothko’s father managed to make a comfortable living as a pharmacist. 3 The first revolution
broke out in Russia when Rothko was two years old. The revolution of 1905 succeeded only in
driving the Czar to further extremes and resulted in the city of Dvinsk being carefully watched
by the Czar’s secret police, or Cossacks. 4
The name Cossack is derived from the Turkic kazak, meaning ‘free man’, originally
referring to anyone who could not find his appropriate place in society and went into the steppe
(grasslands of Southern Ukraine), where he acknowledged no authority. By the end of the 15th
century the term applied to those (chiefly Russians and Poles) who went into the steppes to
practice various trades and engage in hunting and fishing among other crafts. 5 These peasant-
soldiers in Ukraine and in several regions in Russia held certain privileges, including exemption
from taxes and labor services, in return for rendering military services. Each man had to equip
1
Lee Seldes, Legacy of Mark Rothko (New York: De Capo, 1996), 10.
2
Ibid.
3
Dore Ashton, About Rothko (New York: Oxford UP, 1983), 6.
4
Ibid.
5
“Town Cossacks” in Encyclopedia of Ukraine, (Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies, 1984)
3
himself with a horse, arms, uniform, and supplies. 6 Originally autonomous, they were organized
on principles of political and social equality. By the late 18th c. the Cossacks had lost most of
their political autonomy and had been made the privileged military class, integrated with the
Russian military forces. Under the last czars they were often used to quell strikes and other
disturbances. 7
When the Cossacks came to break up strikes using merciless and violent methods, the
Jews were their first target. In 1903, Rothko’s birth year, there was a particularly violent three-
day pogrom in the Russian town of Kishinev. 8 Pogroms were violent mass attacks instigated by
the czarist government 9 and, between the years of 1902 and 1906, were occurring in other
Russian towns with increasing frequency. With slogans sanctioned by the czar like “Destroy the
Jews and Save Russia,” Jewish communities lived in fear. 10 Czarist Russia for Jews was a life of
extreme repression. In most towns, Jews were unable to move about freely and were restricted to
living in certain quarters. Advanced education was a privilege denied to all but a small
minority. 11 Jews in Dvinsk were a part of that tiny minority. Dvinsk had an educated Jewish
populace and was a place where progressive political views were common. 12 Dvinsk managed
to avoid the horrifying pogroms that took place in other towns of the Jewish Pale, 13 but were not
spared other frequent indignities all Jews in Czarist Russia endured. There were alarms and
threats as well as rapes and rampages by the soldiers. 14 While old friends of Rothko have
remained skeptical that Rothko ever encountered the rampaging of the Cossacks, Rothko most
6
“Town Cossacks”, Encyclopedia of Ukraine
7
“Cossacks” in The Columbia Encyclopedia, Encyclypedia.com; Internet; accessed 1 Feb 2010
8
Ashton, About Rothko, 6.
9
Seldes, Legacy, 11.
10
11
Diane Waldman, Mark Rothko, 1903 – 1970: A Retrospective (New York: H.N. Abrams, 1978), 19.
12
13
Ibid., 6.
14
Seldes, Legacy, 11.
4
often recalled his childhood situation as a Jew among hostile Russians. 15 Rothko came from a
family of emancipated Jews but his father still saw fit to send him to a Cheder, a religious school.
He studied the Talmud and learned Hebrew Scriptures. With the demands on young scholars and
the strictness of the regime, Rothko’s hatred for authority could have stemmed from his early
childhood. 16 Rothko often commented on never having a chance to be a kid, and with siblings
that were much older, he was robbed of playmates. His later interest in the artwork of children
could be an innate curiosity and respect of something he never got to experience himself.
When Rothko was seven, Rothko’s father, Jacob, decided it was best for his family to
escape to America, as so many other Russian Jews had done between 1881 and 1914. 17 Jacob
left in 1910 to establish himself and would call for the family later. The next year, Rothko’s two
older brothers, who were facing a general conscription in the czarist army, made the break to
America through the underground. Marcus stayed with his older sister and mother until 1913,
when Rothko’s father sent for the rest of the family. 18 They settled in Portland with family
members. Portland had only been settled sixty years earlier, and much of the population were
just as rootless has the Rothkowitzes. 19 However, when Jacob died only seven months after they
were settled in their new country, hardships came fast and hard for the family. While his two
older brothers were employed by their cousins, Rothko was enrolled in public school, where he
learned English with impressive ease. He also held odd jobs, working in a stockroom and selling
newspapers, and graduated high school at the age of seventeen. His family closely followed and
applauded the Russian Revolution, and Rothko found an outlet for his passionate temperament in
the stimulating discussions of social radicalism that were held in Jewish communities. His
15
16
Ibid., 7
17
Seldes, Legacy, 11.
18
19
Seldes, Legacy, 11.
5
brother has said that Rothko developed quite a skill as a debater, and Rothko had a reputation for
being a defender of labor and radical causes, with idols like Emma Goldman and William
Haywood. 20 He dreamed of being a labor leader and, along with other youths of his generation,
was inspired by the revolution to fight reaction and to stand for the working man’s rights.
During high school, Rothko showed interest in music and art, but the expectations of the
immigrant Jewish community were much higher than the arts. In 1921, Rothko and two other
Russian-Jewish immigrant friends were granted a scholarship to Yale. Rothko left for college,
hoping to find a respectable profession that his background and formation would honor. 21
Yale Years
Yale was not very welcoming to a young Jewish immigrant. The college was extremely
anti-Semitic, with a quota system that made it an extremely difficult task for an Eastern
European Jew to assimilate. There was no Jew on the regular staff until 1943, with the first
Jewish tenure granted in 1947. As a Jewish student, there were no membership offers from
clubs, fraternities, or societies. 22 Nevertheless, Rothko maintained an average GPA studying
biology, psychology, philosophy, economics, history, and even excelling in mathematics. His
scholarship was terminated in his second year, but Rothko continued his education, finding jobs
with his New Haven relatives to support himself. Surrounded by WASPs and typical Ivy League
scholars, Rothko’s social issues did not abate and was known as a rebel. Along with two
classmates, Rothko published a short-lived weekly pamphlet, Saturday Night Pest. The
publication was a response to Rothko’s disaffection with Yale and contained articles, comments,
editorials, and criticism on all things Yale. The paper had a liberal point of view and its
20
21
Ibid., 9.
22
Seldes, Legacy, 13.
6
propagandic nature was unusual for Yale in the twenties. 23 Essentially, Rothko left the school in
1923 and headed for New York, where possibilities were abundant and more opportunities were
available; a much more appropriate atmosphere for a young, politically outspoken Russian-
Jewish radical than Yale’s stuffy halls.
Beginning of Life as Artist
Rothko’s move to New York signified a turning point in his life. He had reached a
decision about his future, and it was not to be an engineer or writer, but an artist. His compelling
interest in art led him to a commitment in painting. He
remarked years later, “I became a painter because I
wanted to raise painting to the level of poignancy of
music and poetry.” 24 He eked out a living finding odd
jobs in the garment district, but by January of 1924, he
was enrolled in life drawing classes at the Art Student’s
League. Besides a brief stint in Portland in mid-1924,
where he studied acting in a theatre company, he stayed at
the Art Student’s League until May 1926. 25 The classes
were freely structured and taught by established artists
Mark Rothko like George Bridgman and Max Weber. For Mark, who already had a
Gethsemane, 1945
Oil on canvas substantial aversion to authority, the intensive yet laid-back atmosphere
54 3/8” x 35 3/8”
was a very comfortable fit. 26 During his years at the Art Students League,
23
Seldes, Legacy, 14.
24
Waldman, Mark Rothko, 22.
25
Oliver Wick, Rothko (Milan: Skira, 2008), 211.
26
Seldes, Legacy, 15.
7
the young artist took a few classes with Max Weber, a man who would be a tremendous
influence to Rothko’s early career.
Max Weber, like Rothko, was a Russian-born Jew who had come to America at the age
of ten. Weber was also a pupil of Matisse, who will prove to be highly influential on Rothko’s
later career. By the time Rothko encountered him, Weber had already picked up inspiration from
El Greco, Cezanne, and important players in the French avant-garde, and
had already been celebrated for his early works, which were primitive
with traces of tribal art and Cubism. During the 1920s, Weber had left
Cubism behind and started concentrating on expressionist figure studies
in landscape settings and still-lifes. Rothko studied under Weber in still-
life and life sketching, where Weber emphasized the expressive gesture
of the nude. Weber’s expressionist goal was apparent in his nudes. He Mark Rothko
Primeval
taught that the nude was to be the vehicle of the artist’s emotion and its Landscape
1945
environment was to be an evocation of the mood. 27 Years later Rothko Oil on canvas
would not accept the idea that self-expression was the proper function of art, but through Weber
he learned to respect the direct expression of feelings. 28 These expressionistic views can be seen
in Rothko’s early work but it is Weber’s Cubist work that was to leave an imprint on Rothko’s
later paintings. Rothko’s Gethsemane and Primeval Landscape, both 1945, contain emblematic
forms juxtaposed on a flat backdrop in a manner that recalls Weber’s combination of trompe
l’oeil technique and collage-like images. 29
27
28
Ibid., 19.
29
8
In his earliest sketches, Rothko’s figures in their
expressive distortions echo the work of Weber, but Weber’s
principles were more influential on Rothko as he experimented
with his own subjects. 30 Rothko’s young talent could be seen
in his works of the late twenties; in his conventional yet
sensitive urban scenes, spontaneous landscapes and studies of
nudes. 31 In his experiences at the League, Rothko had his first

Max Weber
The Geranium, 1911 taste of the nature of artistic life in New York. He made friends with
Oil on canvas
39 7/8” x 32 ¼”
other students at the school and began attending gallery shows. From
the mid-1920s on, he spent most of his time checking out galleries and browsing museums, his
favorite being the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 32 At the age of twenty-five, Rothko had his first
big step towards becoming a legitimate artist. In 1928, Rothko was included in his first group
exhibition at the Opportunity Galleries in New York. Other artists included in the show were
Rothko’s friend Louis Harris and the artist Milton Avery, 33 who would prove to be a tremendous
influence on Rothko.
Milton Avery
Rothko’s first encounter with a committed professional artist had been with Max Weber,
who had exposed Rothko to some artistic expression, but Rothko, getting into his late twenties,
was beginning to seek more guiding principles which would help him to define his task as an
30
31
Ibid., 23.
32
Wick, Rothko, 211
33
Ibid., 24.
9
artist. He found what he was seeking one afternoon in 1928 when a friend from Portland,
violinist Louis Kaufman, brought him to the home of Milton and Sally Avery. 34
Milton Avery was everything that Max Weber was not. Weber was a loud, cynical man
with a forceful personality. Avery was calm; a composed man who practiced quiet self-
containment yet emanated sound confidence. 35 These were the traits, along with Avery’s gentle
accessibility, that drew Rothko to the esteemed artist. He was moving in spirals of confusing
creativity when the talented Avery stepped into Rothko’s life, thus becoming a beacon in
Rothko’s sporadic artistic journey. His steady devotion to his career and modest living as an
artist was inspiring, but it was his “naturalness” that Rothko truly appreciated. He described it
as, “…that exactness and that inevitable completeness which can be achieved only by those
gifted with magical means.” 36 The reclining beach figures and child portraits that Avery was
working on around this time portrayed a tenderness that Rothko valued highly, and his ability to
minimize the use of shapes and colors while maximizing their importance was an influential
technique that caught the attention of Rothko and other young artists. 37 It was through these
suggestive color harmonies and simplification of gesture that Rothko benefited, especially since
his lack of formal training in drawing hampered his skill for small details, such as fingers or feet.
Avery’s pastoral subject matter and themes were not shared by Rothko, but his simple
approach to the subjects of his paintings was admired by the novice, who was still trying to find
his own form of pictorial expression. Rothko was intent on trying to fulfill an intense desire to
establish a prevailing mood. His works during this period were mostly dark, moody,
expressionist interiors, but his watercolors began to show a clarification of purpose after meeting
34
35
36
Ibid., 22.
37
10
Avery. In Rothko’s subway canvases, one single specific theme is used in a group of works; a
technique Rothko had never used before. The collection of works does not constitute a true
series, but the effort to clarify his ideas in a number of related works was apparent. Avery’s
influence could also be seen in the elongated figures and muted colors Rothko used in his
subway scenes and other paintings in the early 1930s. 38
Avery exuded modest domesticity and lived within the
perceived world with great ease and success, something Rothko
longed for and appreciated. However, Rothko’s innate interest
in cosmology, and later, his emotional pull towards mythology,
leads him on an artistic voyage much different from Avery’s.
Nevertheless, the peacefulness of Avery’s studio, along with his
simplified and colorful depictions of domestic subjects, left a
Milton Avery lasting impression on Rothko, particularly his application of

Untitled (Seated Woman in Blue)
n.d. Oil on canvas, 24” x 20” paint and treatment of color, and was the inspiration and
direction for which Rothko was desperately searching. Rothko’s work began to diversify as soon
as Avery made an appearance in his life. 39
Around the same time, Rothko found a close friend in Adolph Gottlieb. Gottlieb was
near Rothko’s age and also a painter. The two shared an intense interest in finding an expressive
language of his own. The pair would meet at Avery’s studio, along with several other artists,
including Byron Browne, Louis Harris, and Wallace Putnam, for weekly life drawing sessions.
During this period, which started in 1928 and continued through the early 1930s, Rothko created
a number of nude studies. These meetings eventually included John Graham, Yankel Kufeld,
38
Ashton, About Rothko, 21-23.
39
Ibid., 23.
11
Louis Schanker, and Joseph Solman, and readings of T.S. Eliot and Wallace Stevens were added
to the agenda. 40 The weekly get-togethers would prove to be extremely influential on Rothko
and his artist friends. Rothko spoke on Avery’s powerful influence during the eulogy he
presented at Avery’s funeral in 1965, “…the feeling that one was in the presence of great events
was immediate on encountering his work. It was true for many of us who were younger,
questioning and looking for an anchor…” 41 While the coterie of artists met once a week at
Avery’s studio, Gottlieb and Rothko, along with Louis Harris, made the artistic couple’s home
an almost daily meeting place. Sally Avery recalls their routine of spending the days furiously
painting, then comparing, works. Avery was always ready and willing to hear the younger
artists’ criticism of his work, and these intimate experiences bolstered Rothko’s confidence. 42
The long, evening discussions touched on literature, philosophy, and politics. In 1932, Rothko
and Gottlieb began spending summer vacations sketching and painting with the Averys in
Massachusetts. These group holidays were an occasional occurrence throughout the 1930s. 43
40
Wick, Rothko, 211.
41
42
43
Wick, Rothko, 211.
12
3 GREAT DEPRESSION EFFECTS
As Adolph Gottlieb recalls, “In those days, painters were sort of silent men,” but Gottlieb
and his “very verbal and…continual raconteur” 44 of a friend, Mark Rothko, indulged each other
in their great need to talk. One of their favorite topics to rant about was the obnoxious and
opinionated art critics who liked to denounce “foreign” influences in American art. In the midst
of the Great Depression, there was a united front from American Scene painters calling for an
American art that the man on the
street could identify with. One
such painter, Thomas Hart
Benton, converted from
abstractionism after World War I
and attacked European sources,
asking American artists to
separate their art “from the
Thomas Hart Benton, Cut the Line hothouse atmospheres of an imported, and, for our
Oil on board, 1944
country, functionless aesthetics.” 45 His violent turn
against avant-garde was prompted by the country’s political, social, and aesthetic conservatism,
its isolationism and chauvinism, and its mood of profound despair that was born in the war and
deepened by the Depression. 46 While some American painters, like Arthur Dove and Stuart
Davis, along with a few Europeans, like Josef Albers and Hans Hoffman, continued to work in
advanced styles, most painters were content with the theme of everyday reality, their works
44
45
46
13
depicting the poverty and disillusionment of urban masses or celebrating rural life. Thomas Hart
Benton had set the standard for American painting, and Regionalism, American Scene painting,
and Social Realism prevailed in the American artistic climate until World War II, producing
works that were often topical, journalistic, and illustrational. 47 Gottlieb and Rothko responded
by refusing American Regionalism, along with total abstraction and Cubist decoration. They
preferred the moody European Expressionism over the patriotic yet propagandistic American
Scene art. 48 They exposed themselves to many kinds of painting by reading art journals and
looking over reproductions of works by Picasso, Derain, and the French Surrealists. They were
also paying attention to the Italian painters, who would often be reviewed in art periodicals. A
few of Rothko’s gouaches between the late 1920s and early 1930s recall the metaphysical
paintings of Carrà, and the whitened tones used by some Italian painters (Morandi and de Pisis)
appear in his street scenes and still-lifes. 49
During the 1930s, Rothko produced a number of
haunting images of the New York subway,
where he uses windows, portals, and walls to
serve as structural and expressive devices of
confinement. He portrays the subway as an
eccentric place, containing a dramatic contrast

Mark Rothko
Entrance to Subway, 1938 of perspective extremes. Walls and railings are represented
Oil on canvas, 34” x 46 ¼ ”
as flat screens while tracks recede sharply, and the figures
seem to represent commuters, shoppers, or schoolchildren,
but they are largely attenuated, faceless, and flat. He was rejecting conventional modes of
47
Waldman, Mark Rothko, 23
48
49
Ibid..
14
representation and stressed an emotional approach to the subject – an approach he admired in
children’s art – and adopted a style characterized by deliberate deformations and a crude
application of paint. Rothko’s street scenes and subway pictures have been compared to
Depression-era realist painting, but this resemblance is likely based on the perception of a shared
urban motif. Rothko did not like to portray realistic scenes of city life, but was more interested
in conveying the perceptual experience of architectural space. He used abstract compositional
arrangements to explore the relationship between the painting and its viewer. 50
Artists’ Union
Rothko and Gottlieb were also keeping
a close eye on social and political events. The
entire country was frantic over the stock-
market crash in 1929 that resulted in the Great
Depression. There was an atmosphere of
Mark Rothko emergency throughout the country, but there was

Subway (Subterranean Fantasy), 1936
Oil on canvas, 34 5/16” x 46 ½”
plenty to worry about all over the world during the
1930s, and Rothko and his painter buddies were paying attention: the northwestern province of
China was invaded by Japan in 1931; the Nazis became an ever-growing threat as Hitler became
a chancellor of Germany in 1933, then repudiated the Treaty of Versailles in 1935, annexed
Austria and occupied Czechoslovakia; and Mussolini consolidated his power. 51 The world was
at a universal unrest, but Rothko and his peers had an abundance of distractions in their own
New York neighborhoods. From bread lines to soapbox orators, signs of the grim reality seemed
50
Donna Mann, Mark Rothko Exhibition (National Gallery of Art: Yale UP), 1998.
51
15
to be on every corner. Unemployment rose to an overwhelming 37% for all nonfarm workers.
Bohemian artists in New York were no exception. Rothko (who had married in 1932 and now
had a family to support) and many others found themselves without means by 1934. An attempt
to pull the economy out of its enormous slump was initiated by Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933
called the New Deal. The New Deal was a program that was created to stimulate the economy
through social and economic reforms, and Roosevelt pushed his project hard and quick, which
resulted in reforms that were unclear, contradictory, and administered poorly. Included in the
Deal were the creation of two federal art programs administered by the Treasury Department –
the Public Works Art Project and the Section of Painting and Sculpture. The purpose of these
ventures was to support art and artists during the Depression, but the forces of bureaucracy and
individualism in art were in conflict. Both organizations favored the representational styles
generally associated with American Scene painting or Regionalism, and the minor artists they
employed were encouraged by the government to create works within those themes rather than
exercise their own personal expression. This government policy and the indifference of the
artists it employed outraged the young, politically active, mostly immigrant group of artists that
supported social progressivism. 52 Artists felt their civil liberties were threatened, and these more
progressive artists rallied together and formed organizations that protested the conservative bias
of the government’s programs and demanded more effective programs for the unemployed. One
such organization, organized in New York with local chapters elsewhere, was the Artists’ Union.
With more than two-hundred participants in the inauguration of the Union, it did not confine
itself to the problems of artists but other areas of labor as well. 53 The Union held monthly
meetings and began a publication in November of 1934 called Art Front. Max Weber
52
53
Ibid, 30.
16
contributed to the journal once, saying, “My heart is full; welled to the brim with resentment for
I see clearly – as other artists who are socially conscious – how Nazism, chauvinism and fascism
are worming into the life of art and artists…” 54 Rothko regularly attended the meetings, heavily
supported the Art Front, and was active in demanding the municipal gallery, but he also
struggled with forces within the Artists’ Union that mistook provincialism for a new brand of
American art. 55 Rothko was passionate about the political situation and did not react to chaotic
political events lightly. Politically, he was at conflict with himself: as an artist, he hesitated to
join any group, but his individual liberties were at risk and he felt obliged to support group
activities in the name of social justice. Artistically, however, he knew exactly where he stood:
he hated everything that smacked of social realism. 56 Rothko’s friend and writer H.R. Hays
confirms that Rothko, “had no objection to picketing for the immediate preservation of jobs but
he strenuously opposed the injection of politics into art which he felt simply resulted in bad
art.” 57 During this time, Rothko and others formed a smaller, more intimate circle of artists who
shared the same political and artistic convictions, called The Ten.
The Ten
The Ten began as a group of artists, most Jewish and several Russian born, who were in
an exhibition together in December of 1934 at Gallery Secession. The original members of the
group, which sometimes called itself, “The Ten Who are Nine,” included Rothko and Gottlieb,
Louis Harris, Joseph Solman, Ben-Zion, Ilya Bolotowsky, Yankel Kufeld, Louis Schanker, and
Nahum Tschacbasov. Late joiners were Lee Gatch, John Graham, Karl Knaths, Ralph
54
55
Ibid.
56
Ibid.
57
17
Rosenborg, and David Burliuk. 58 Gottlieb describes this rebellious and progressive group as,
“…outcasts – roughly expressionist painters. We were not acceptable to most dealers and
collectors. We banded together for the purpose of mutual support.” 59 After showing in the
Gallery Secession, the group decided to form its own exhibiting society, hoping to persuade
different galleries to hold their shows (one of them being the Municipal Art Gallery that Rothko
and others had fought for), which they succeeded in doing for the next five years. The group
held monthly meetings at each other’s studios, where discussions grew heated and lasted through
the night. Rothko was said to be the most articulate participant with enthusiastic interjections.
Subjects varied (the 1930s brought many topics of discussion), but most debates were focused on
the perplexing artistic issues emerging in the chaotic world. The entire group paid close
attention to what was going on in Europe with Picasso, Matisse, and the German Expressionists,
took notice of exiting exhibitions at the Met, and tried to find a middle ground between social
realism and abstraction. The Ten also had an influence on the Artists’ Union, particularly its
publication, Art Front. As a representative of The Ten, Josef Solman wrote a manifesto
complaining about the appearance of the journal (“…it should look like an art magazine and not
only a union newssheet.” 60), and accusing the editors of being unaware of the educational value
of the Met. The editorial board’s response to Solman: an invite to join the board. 61 Solman
took advantage of his position and, in one of his first acts, published a lecture by Fernand Léger
given at the Met, which also happened to be one of The Ten’s favorite topics of discussion.
Léger’s lecture focused on artists of the past fifty years and their struggle to free themselves from
restraints, one of them being subject matter. He continues to explain that the Impressionists have
58
59
60
Ibid, 34.
61
Ibid.
18
freed color and he and his peers have “carried the attempt forward and freed form and design.” 62
His proclaims that subject matter is dead and color and geometric form have their own reality,
“independent and plastic.” Léger’s central theme was that the question, “What does that
represent?” was no longer relevant. He concludes in the defense of painters and their craft,
“There was never any question in plastic art, in poetry, in music of representing anything. It is a
matter of making something beautiful, moving or dramatic – this is by no means the same
thing.” 63 This theory stayed with Rothko for the rest of his career. Through the evolution of his
works, we can see his increasing use of color and form.
WPA
In response to the national outcries for a better government program of recovery, the
Works Progress Administration was formed in August of 1935. It was the most extensive and
most effective of all the New Deal art relief programs and engaged artists without bias in regard
to style. 64 Rothko, together with Harris, Solman, Ad Reinhardt, and many others, was hired in
the easel-painting division, earning close to $100 a month; a small stipend but still the main
support for most artists. Most of the works created at this time disappeared into schools,
hospitals, and institutions throughout the federal bureaucracy. During its existence, more than
100,000 paintings and murals and over 18,000 sculptures were created. There were about 2,000
New York artists involved in the program, and to them it was more than a paycheck. 65 While
there was pandemonium going on around them, the artists found a new unity, which was a
welcome break from the feeling of isolation, with which so many artists were struggling. It was
during this time that Rothko met Willem de Kooning, Jackson Pollock, and Arshile Gorky. New
62
63
Ibid.
64
65
Seldes, Legacy, 16.
19
York became America’s safe-haven for the revolutionary, just as Paris had nurtured foreign
artists along with its native French masters. Seedy downtown lofts and greasy all-night diners
were the American equivalent to the Parisian studios and cafés where the painters and sculptors
would share discoveries and debate ideas. Like their European counterparts, these meetings
helped the Americans develop strength and an independent spirit. 66 During this time, no one
sold anything but the Project had its own gallery that regularly exhibited artists’ work. It was
while Rothko and the others were involved in the WPA that The Ten was formed.
Child Art
Until Rothko became a financially successful artist, he supported himself by teaching at
the Brooklyn Center Academy, a job he retained from 1929 until 1952. While some friends
maintain that Rothko did not enjoy teaching, he took an intense interest in children and their
artwork. In 1936, he began writing a book about similarities in the art of children and the work
of modern painters. The book was never completed, but in his manuscript he concluded that
“child art transforms itself into primitivism, which is only the child producing a mimicry of
himself.” Rothko claimed he never had the chance to experience childhood, growing up in strict
religious schools in Russia then working at a young age after his father died in America. His
interest in children’s art might have stemmed from his lack of childhood experience, making him
curious about the naivety of children and their creative expression. While studying under Weber,
he had learned to respect the direct expression of feelings evident in the work of children, and his
job at the Academy gave him the opportunity to study the work of children and show how art can
release and inspire personal expression, which is important, especially in children. Rothko
maintained that art is man’s expression of his total experience of the world, and, accordingly, he
believed children’s art was like a barometer of truth. Rothko stressed the emotional approach to
66
Sam Hunter, Modern Art (New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 2005), 266.
20
the subject, and he admired this approach in children’s art. 67 The art program at the Center
Academy had made the public aware of children’s art by which they could learn “the difference
between sheer skill and skill that is linked to spirit, expressiveness and personality.” 68 In older
methods, children were given examples of works and asked to create an exact replica, which
gave the child the opportunity to perfect themselves…in imitation. Rothko argued that in his
approach, “the result is a constant creative activity in which the child creates an entire child-like
cosmology which expressed the infinitely varied and exciting world of a child’s fancies and
experience…” 69 He also observed that “the fact that one usually begins with drawing is already
academic. We start with color.” 70 His rebellion against the old academic method is
characteristic of his anarchist personality, but his curious attraction to the work of children
seemed to be spurred by his own urge to contemplate the nature of art. In his first one-man show
in Portland, Rothko showed his art next to work from children in his classes. It was clear that he
believed whole-heartedly in the values inherent in the work of the uncorrupted. 71
67
Mann, Mark Rothko Exhibition.
68
69
Ibid., 20.
70
Ibid., 20.
71
Ibid., 26.
21
4 SURREALIST YEARS
A fellow painter and writer for Art Front, Jacob Kainen, praised an exhibition of The
Ten in February of 1937. He commented on their attempt to reduce the interpretation of nature
or life in general to the rawest emotional elements; noted their complete and utter dependence on
pigment; and acknowledged their intensity of vision. 72 It is these three aspects of art, along with
the introduction of Surrealism and the oncoming of World War II, that shaped the works of
Rothko and his fellow artists over the next decade.
Rothko’s most recognized works are those that were produced in the late 1930s and
1940s, which was considered his ‘transition’ period. Rothko’s ‘transition’ period, also referred
to as his Surrealist years (1938 to 1946) coincided with the eve and aftermath of World War II.
In 1938, the same year he legalized his citizenship for fear of Nazi influence and deportation of
Jews, and a year after separation from his wife, Rothko decided to turn his back on modern urban
reality and thrust himself back into the unconscious. Rothko leaped from the present to the past,
from contemporary urban environment to a remote mythic world. 73 The resurrection of myth
during the late 1930s, experienced by many artists, was to have special consequences for him.
The Surrealists exhibitions in the 1930s introduced the idea of returning to myths and origins; an
idea that freed Rothko and allowed him to be mobile in the realm of the imagination. 74 Rothko
was sensitive to the world situation and felt the descending chaos, and his work of the late 1930s
reflects his preoccupations. He had an increasing need to find the pictorial language to express
his intimations of disaster; his increasing interest with the life cycle, and his growing awareness
of the tragic, in which death played a major role. 75 His subway scenes of the late 1930s relay
72
73
Robert Rosenblum, Mark Rothko: Rothko’s Surrealist Years (New York: Pace Gallery, 1981), 6.
74
75
Ibid., 39.
22
tragedy and human fate through his stylistic simplifications, which stress individual isolationism;
the beginnings of his mythic explorations can be seen in some works of the subway series. 76
Rothko needed a new way of controlling and ordering his experience in a time he found to be out
of joint, and the atmosphere of removal was essential in order to formulate his point of view of
existence. The myth for Rothko was the source of a dramatic confrontation between nature,
ruled by law, and the human imagination, free in its expression. 77 Several influences pushed
Rothko deeper into his obsession with tragedy, myth, and origin of life: his reading of Nietzsche,
a hero of the anarchist vanguard in the 1920s; his interest in personal archeology, which resulted
in his reading of the ancient Greeks, specifically Aeschylus; and, of course, the arrival of
European refugees (artists, musicians, poets) pouring into New York from Paris in 1939,
escaping the nightmares of the Holocaust and the looming war.
Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche, by the 1930s, was known for his appropriation and
misrepresentation by Nazi academics, a hard blow to his reputation. His courage in examining
the irrational realm, however, did not fail to incite poets, painters, and composers in the late 19th
century. His appeal to the darker region of emotions hidden away in the psyche and his
artistically heightened exposition of psychological phenomena alerted the burgeoning
modernists. Rothko’s interest in Nietzsche was sparked by his interest in anarchism. Anarchists
who were influential to Rothko, including Emma Goldman, often referred to Nietzsche’s
writings and his insistence on the freedom of superstition. To Rothko, the renewed interest in
myth found its definition in Nietzsche’s very first book – The Birth of Tragedy. 78 Rothko found
a connection with Nietzsche when he realized they shared an immense emotional stimulation
76
Ashton, About Rothko., 50.
77
Ibid., 41.
78
23
when listening to music. Rothko turned to music for solitude, inspiration, and contemplation,
and was particularly attuned to Nietzsche’s vision of the importance of music. Nietzsche’s flow
of thoughts in The Birth of Tragedy went from music to myth, as was the natural trajectory of
Rothko’s own thoughts. 79 Nietzsche later criticized his early work, calling it “rhapsodic.” He
claimed that it was “‘music’ for those dedicated to music, those who were closely related to
begin with on the basis of common and rare aesthetic experiences…” 80 Rothko, by the nature of
his inmost sensibilities, was closely related.
Rothko also shared with Nietzsche a desired knowledge – the “direct knowledge of the
nature of the world unknown to his reason.” 81 In examining the existence of such direct feelings,
Nietzsche applied his definition of ancient tragedy – a fusion of the Dionysian with the
Apollonian. The Dionysian represented the spirit of music with its direct knowledge of
creation’s sources while the Apollonian was the daylight revealing “the beautiful illusion of
dream worlds in the creation of which every man is truly an artist.” 82 Rothko and Nietzsche
claim to have felt, rather than thought, in the presence of music. Therefore, Nietzsche insisted
that the Dionysian restored man to nature and “he feels himself a god…He is no longer an artist,
he has become a work of art.” 83
Rothko began to move toward a distancing from the “everyday” world, and his works
began to reject the modern tradition in visual art. He claimed to see a materialist bias in the
tradition, and formed a deep disregard for its sources. In an effort to escape a world in which he
never felt comfortable, Rothko entered a psychological state in which he accepted and welcomed
79
80
Ibid.
81
Ibid.
82
Ibid.
83
Ibid., 54.
24
Nietzsche’s firm denunciation of the “theoretical man.” 84 The theoretical man was an idea that
seemed to dominate the modern world and, through his works, Rothko endorses Nietzsche’s
contrasts of the theoretical man and the artist. Nietzsche observes that while the theoretical man
finds an infinite delight in whatever exists, the artist will always cling to what is still covered
after the uncovering. Rothko’s later compositions (discussed later in the work) can be seen as
“what still remains covering.” As Nietzsche moved toward clarity and calmness, so would
Rothko, or at least he would attempt to do so. Rothko said, “The progression of a painter’s work,
as it travels in time from point to point, will be toward clarity.” 85 This clarity Rothko strived for,
however, was slow in coming. 86
Ancient Greeks
Like Nietzsche, Rothko also turned to the ancient Greeks for answers and direction.
During his ‘transition’ period, Rothko was preoccupied with personal archaeology as he
wandered towards his “self.” He read the ancient Greeks, especially Aeschylus, which played an
important role in Rothko’s psychological evolution. Several of Rothko’s paintings of his
Surrealist period were based on the Agamemnon trilogy. Rothko returned to the Greek tragedies
when the state of the world was as menacing as in ancient times. In his early works, Rothko
conveyed melancholy responses to the human situation, but the need for a more remote
inspection was apparent. He read Aeschylus from a need to be moved, and this need transformed
into a moving encounter with King Agamemnon. 87 Rothko, an extremely sensitive artist who
had a difficult time comprehending the destruction surrounding him, found an answer to his own
artistic dilemma in Aeschylus, who understood human frailty and meditated passionately on war
84
85
Ibid.
86
Ibid.
87
Ibid, 43.
25
and death. Remembering the violence he encountered during childhood, to which he was
sensitive as a man, Rothko was searching for a way to accurately depict his sentiments on the eve
of the Second World War, his reading of Aeschylus being influential in his search. The
undertones in Aeschylus are born in images, often the image of the bird. 88 What stirred him in
Aeschylus was the way in which the images lightened but did not banish the underlying tragedy.
Rothko’s birds that he began to portray on canvas were not the
typical Surrealist symbols, but birds of the Greek and Old
Testament configuration. The birds were images of the soul; stand-
ins for the invisible; embodiments of dreams of freedom and
wholeness. Reading of the Greeks and his search for the ancient
and mythical led Rothko to the Spirit of Myth idea. A reproduction
of his work, The Omen of the Eagle in 1942, was released with a
statement from Rothko:

Mark Rothko
The Omen of the Eagle “The theme here is derived from the Agamemnon Trilogy of
1942
Aeschylus. The picture deals not with the particular anecdote, but rather
with the Spirit of Myth, which is generic to all myths of all times. It
involves a pantheism in which man, bird, beast and tree – the known as well as the knowable – merge into
a single tragic idea.”
This “single tragic idea” turned out to be Rothko’s most persistent quest; one that was neither
direct nor easy. In his first works from this period, he attempts to transform the visible and
present into the direct and unmediated “Spirit of Myth.” 89 His subway scenes are good examples
of his portrayal of isolated souls in scenery flats, but by 1938, he abandoned the subterranean
illusion and began meditating on the freedom of fantasy. 90 In 1940, Rothko quit painting for the
88
89
Ibid, 45.
90
Ibid, 50.
26
year and focused on his reading of Freud and Frazer. He also changed his name from Marcus
Rothkowitz to Mark Rothko.
His paintings during his Surrealist years he called dramas. He conceived of his “pictures
as dramas; the shapes…are the performers.” 91 Rothko felt he created an atmosphere that was
“tragic and timeless,” and allowed his ‘actors’ to move dramatically without embarrassment and
execute gestures without shame. 92 In the journal Possibilities, he explained that the “shapes have
no direct association with any particular visible experience, but in them, one recognizes the
principle and passion of organisms.” 93 He continues to refer to his paintings in a similar manner
throughout his career, calling his paintings “an unknown adventure in an unknown space.” 94 It
seemed Rothko had created an environment where his creations could exist in a peaceful truth; a
place where Rothko and his friends were forever searching.
European Masters – Fall of Paris
In 1939, streams of refugees poured into New York, and, with the fall of Paris in 1940,
Manhattan became the adopted cultural capital of the world, a temporary refuge for many
celebrated artists, writers, and musicians. 95 The New Yorkers found themselves in the center of
the international art scene and physically surrounded by Mondrian, Matta, Duchamp, Léger,
Masson, Chagall, and Breton. For several years, the New York artists had despaired of their
situation in a country that increasingly endorsed a nationalistic art pretending to epitomize a new
aesthetic; they reacted actively to the arrival of the European masters. 96 While there was much
to be learned firsthand by these seasoned European professionals, the New York artists had
91
Irving Sandler, Mark Rothko Paintings: 1948 – 1969 (New York: Pace Gallery, 1983), 6.
92
Ibid.
93
Mann, Mark Rothko Exhibition
94
Ibid.
95
Seldes, Legacy, 17.
96
27
already built enough backbone to take what they needed from their superiors, while rejecting
some of their retrograde, academic forms that reminded the Americans of little more than
Regionalists or Social Realists paintings. 97 When American abstract artists sought new means to
express their flight from the crude material values of contemporary life, they were driven not into
an art of private dreams, but instead into an art of immediate sensations. 98 They eagerly
followed Matta in his exploration of automatic drawing, and
drew from the nonobjective, biomorphic Surrealism of Miró
and Masson. These artists tapped into the inner wells of
feeling from which the Americans wanted to extract their art
while also yielding freshness and individuality. 99 Personal

Mark Rothko, Rites of Lilith
contact with the Surrealists provided Americans direct access 1945, Oil on canvas,
81 5/8” x 100 5/8”
to their work. It was an exhilarating time for the artists: a
moment in history that gave them the freedom and challenge they needed to cut the cord that tied
them to provincial American art.
Surrealism first appeared in Paris in 1924 in reaction to the widespread atrocities
witnessed during World War I. Escaping the horrors of war, Surrealists created absurdities for
their own sake and invoked wonders to combat the harsh realities war had imposed on humanity.
The function of the Surrealist artist or poet was to employ symbols that corresponded to myths,
parables, and metaphors of the past. Their aim was to stimulate the senses to arouse multiple
emotions, differing according to the viewer. The unconscious took the role of being the essential
source of art instead of the events in the external world. Surrealists did not turn their back to the
reality of the world, but retained elements of the external world in their work by unifying it with
97
Hunter, Modern Art, 267.
98
Sam Hunter, American Art (New York: H.N. Abrams, 1972), 164.
99
28
the dream form to become one reality, called “surreality.” The Surrealists used these techniques
to develop art that was fantastic, accidental, and illogical. 100 Americans were quick to seize on
this alternative and used it to enlarge the expressive possibilities of their art, eventually
subordinating Surrealist intuitions completely into their own artistic needs and purposes. 101
Devoted to themes of myth, prophecy, archaic ritual, and the unconscious mind, Rothko’s
paintings of the 1940s are characterized by the biomorphic style stimulated by the Surrealists. 102
Rothko’s reach back to the primitive inspired several new styles for him. On one level of the
primitive, Rothko projects himself back to the beginning of not only his biological life, but of all
life in the cosmos. He depicts microscopic creatures and dividing cells. He also regresses back
to the ancient Greeks, in his portraits with fragments of birds, heads, hands, and other random
parts. 103 He derives these from Greek bas-reliefs, employing Greek tragedy as his source.
Tragedy as a richly suggestive subject in itself, inspired by his reading of the Greeks, began to
emerge in his sketches and paintings. The overtones of his meditation on tragedy occur in the
increasing flatness of his compositions. 104 Many of his paintings take on the frieze form, planes
of color in the background of his archaic figures. It has been said that the bands represent
geological strata – possibly a metaphor for the unconscious. 105 Formalist critics see these
horizontal divisions as the source of his later abstractions with their two, three, or four levels of
division. At the time, they provided Rothko with the means to pictorialize his intuitions of
layered time: of the metamorphic character of myth, of the clear structure of Aeschylean
drama. 106 In works such as Gea and Pagan Void, 1945 and 1946 respectively, the notion of
100
101
Hunter, American Art, 165.
102
103
Rosenblum, Surrealist Years, 6.
104
Ibid., 59.
105
106
29
origin is explored on three registers, including natural or organic cycles of life, mythological
accounts of In works such as Gea and Pagan Void, 1945 and 1946 respectively, the notion of
origin is explored on three registers, including natural or organic cycles of life, mythological
accounts of such cycles, and finally the Abstract Expressionist imperative to take painting back
to its own origins. 107 One such cycles, and finally the Abstract Expressionist imperative to take
painting back to its own origins. 108 One of the most ambitious and successful of these
metamorphic images is the 1944 Slow Swirl at the Edge of the Sea. Diane Waldman suggests
that the large oil painting may be a symbolic portrait of the artist and his wife-to-be, Mary Alice
Beistle, whom he married later the same year. However, the male-female couples is so heavily
mythologized that it an evoke endless duos of universal Adams and Eves, or biological diagrams
describing sexual differentiation, or even nature deities from a
primitive culture, similar to the Navaho sand painting of the Sky
Father and the Earth Mother. Slow Swirl creates a personal
world of mystery and solemnity, allowing the viewer to feel the
timeless nature of sand, sea, and sky as a setting for the magnetic
forces of coupling and sexuality that echo backward from a pair

Mark Rothko
Slow Swirl at the Edge of the Sea
1944 of modern human beings to deep roots in biology, myth and
Oil on canvas, approx. 6’ x 7’
magic. Everything from the muted colors to the shimmering
spider web of delicate angled, rounded lines invokes a universe of unformed images. With its
stark confrontation, its ritualistic symmetry, its exquisitely changing nuances of vibrant shape,
107
David Joselit, American Art Since 1945 (London: Thames & Hudson: 2003), 21.
108
Ibid.
30
tone, and feeling, Slow Swirl offers the fullest synthesis of Rothko’s ambitions up to 1944, as
well as the richest prophecy of the abstract work to come. 109
Rothko’s flight back to the vital sources of life, art, and myth during a time of
unthinkable terror was not a new path. Symbolists of
the 19th c. shared the same aesthetic goals, attempting
to conjure up the most elusive, mysterious states of
feeling through a vocabulary of shapes, colors, and
tones, which avoided any contact with the crude
realities of the contemporary world and its material

Sky Father and the Earth Mother
contents. 110 Artists on the eve of the First World War Navajo Sand Painting
1941
turned toward the primitive in their rejection of the
unbearable present of modern history, in favor of a prehistoric world where all might begin
again. Author Robert Rosenblum makes the direct connection between Rothko’s work and war,
suggesting that the artist’s pictorial format of a numbing, atmospheric void represents an image
of the world after Hiroshima, when all of matter, man, and history might be annihilated. 111
Another technique used by the Surrealists that inspired Rothko and others was automatic writing
– letting the brush meander without conscious control in an attempt to release the creative forces
of the unconscious.
109
110
Ibid.
111
Ibid., 7.
31
Rothko loosened up his technique and began to develop a more abstract imagery.
In his watercolors, Rothko explored the fluidity of the medium to evoke the vision of primeval
life. 112 The fluid watercolor medium released the linear impulse with which the Surrealists had
limbered up their conscious. 113
It is inevitable that many of the works from this period are intriguing as prefigurations of
the later Rothko. One may trace the evolution toward the elemental format of floating horizontal
strata that give the impression of something akin to this planet at its beginning, or even after its
apocalyptic end. One may also follow the gradual mastery of fluid and translucent techniques,
whether in oil or watercolor, that make the viewer sense that the nature of organic process has
been seized and the image is somehow changing before one’s eyes, reforming its shapes and
altering its colors against a deeper, concealed structure that conveys a total, ultimate stillness. 114
Rothko’s Surrealist period is high in seriousness; its search for forms and symbols that could
awaken a sense of awe and tragedy not only assured the emotional gravity of the abstract art that,
after 1947, absorbed these mysterious hieroglyphs, but also revealed Rothko’s place in a long
tradition of modern artists who grappled with an encyclopedic repertory of symbols culled from
biology and anthropology in a heroic effort to convey the ultimates of life, death, and faith. 115
112
113
114
115
Ibid., 9.
32
Miró
A major inspiration for
Joan Miró, The Family, 1924

Rothko’s Surrealist period was Surrealist artist Joan Miró.
His work, The Family, of 1924, proved to be extremely influential in Rothko’s works from this
period. Its format, a wide field clearly divided by a horizontal line, recurs throughout many of
Rothko’s works. An even more perceptible element seen in Miró’s work that Rothko draws on is
the translucent creatures that do not adhere to any specific biological or historical period.
Biological forms with squirming cilia share space with modern pipe-smoking figures. Certainly,
Miró’s central figure of Mother Nature provided Rothko with a prehistoric deity who often
presided over the mythic lands he conjured up for a throng of images that usually went untitled.
When named, the figure usually turned out to be the Jewish female demon, Lilith. While Miró’s
works were usually ones of clarity, light, shadow, and contour, Rothko hid in his own hazy
atmosphere with blurred shapes and frail forms. 116 However, reaching common ground even for
a few works, Miró managed to make a lasting impression on Rothko and his creations.
In his group of works of roughly 1944-1946, Rothko enthusiastically used accents of
dramatic color, mostly red, that bear associations with primitive ritual. He also experimented
with saturated blocks for the first time, using them to symbolize recession. In 1945, Rothko got
his first one-man show at the popular gallery Art of this Century, run by Peggy Guggenheim. He
116
33
hoped he would finally find critic acclaim, but the show hardly made a stir. The daily
newspapers ignored it and the art journals reviewed him only briefly. In response, Rothko
prepared a statement explaining his unexplained territory for an exhibition a month later. He
opened with his usual insistence that he adhered to the material quality of the world and the
substance of things, continued on with his recourse to
philosophical events being discussed in New York, and finished
with his separation from Surrealism on the basis of humanism. 117
Rothko was known for his speeches and writings about his work.
Rothko contributed often to art journals and publications. Rothko
Mark Rothko often offered carefully composed statements of his beliefs to two postwar
Untitled/No. 9
1948 publications, Possiblities and The Tiger’s Eye. 118 His public statements
Oil on Canvas
of the late 1940s were usually on invocations of tragedy and sublimity. 119 Moreover, he was in
the habit of trying to control everything connected to his work, including written commentary.
Rothko’s show at Art of this Century was introduced with an unsigned forward, possibly written
by Guggenheim’s assistant, but most likely articulated by Rothko. 120 Rothko was also infamous
for his fussy insistence on controlling the installation of his paintings in galleries and exhibitions
to a painstaking precision. He even forbade his works from being included in a show overseas
because he was unable to travel with the works and insure their proper installation. However, his
concern over the precise environments in which his work was to be displayed and his continual
anxiety over misinterpretation of his work only supported the idea that success of a Rothko
painting not only hinges on the details of pigment but also on the nature of the viewing encounter
117
118
Ibid., 98.
119
David Hopkins, After Modern Art: 1945-2000 (New York: Oxford UP, 2000), 16.
120
34
itself, as if the work is only successfully completed when it generates a particular, perhaps
profound, effect in a properly receptive viewer. 121
In 1946, Betty Parsons opened her gallery and signed three painters: Jackson Pollock,
Clyfford Still, and Mark Rothko, all of whom had exhibited in Peggy Guggenheim’s Art of this
Century. The gallery was friendly and informal almost to a point of unprofessionalism: contracts
were based on one’s word or poorly typed, records of sales were hit-or-miss, and the prices were
only in three figures. Parsons remembers “skating on thin ice…and every time we were about to
fall through, we would hope to sell another painting.” 122 Later that summer, Rothko was ecstatic
to learn that both the San Francisco Museum of Art and the Santa Barbara Museum of Art
mounted exhibits of his surrealist seascapes. The museum in San Francisco was considering
purchasing a painting, and Rothko was thrilled to be on the West Coast. He wrote to Parsons
“…I cannot describe the adulation I have received from the artists in San Francisco.” 123
Returning to New York, was soon to embark on the great adventure of his life: his work would
take a turn towards surrealistic abstraction. 124
121
Ed. Glenn Phillips and Thomas Crow, Seeing Rothko (Detroit: Getty Trusts Publications, 2005), 1.
122
Seldes, Legacy, 23.
123
Ibid., 23.
124
Seldes, Legacy, 24.
35
5 POST-WAR PERIOD
By the mid – 1940s, the majority of Rothko’s work included biomorphic forms dancing
before a background of horizontal bands that resemble the layers of a submarine universe. These
transparent watercolors of this period mark a turning point in the artist’s career. 125 Rothko wrote
that changes in his style or its “progression” were motivated by a growing clarification of his
content, and content was primary. 126 There was despair among painters in New York in the
early 1940s; not only an aesthetic despair, but one born of events, among which one could
include aesthetic events. 127 Living in New York during this period was a mixture of the mythical
and the contemporary. On a daily basis, newspapers and radios chronicled events of evil. The
United States became host to a growing number of refugees, which forced Americans to face the
reality of the Nazis and their war, yet the remoteness and monstrosity of these events in Europe
and the Pacific gave them an unreal, symbolic character. 128 However awful and evil these
horrific events were for the artists, the war also helped them in perfecting their methodology and
in their search for significant content. This led them to rely on the automatic process itself, the
graphic equivalent to free association. This methodology gave precedence to process over
conception, which allowed a way of transforming color and drawing into a visual metaphor of
the transient, ambiguous, and tragic nature of the human condition. 129 Rothko felt that if art
were to express this tragic nature, new subjects and a new idiom had to be found. On using
myths and symbols, Rothko said, “It was with the utmost reluctance that I found the figure could
125
126
Sandler, Mark Rothko Paintings, 6.
127
128
129
36
not serve my purposes…But a time came when none of us could use the figure without
mutilating it.” 130
Abstract Expressionism
The postwar period was confusing and left artists with an uncertainty about their place in
the art world. Gottlieb, Rothko, Still, and a few others were considered little more than
promising yet somewhat unsophisticated students of European modernism. By newspaper
accounts, their work was crude and unfinished, and their abstract styles had struck out at such an
advanced age that there was little hope for a mature and rich originality. American artists were
emerging from their preoccupation with social themes of the Depression era, and were
confronted with the achievement of international modernism that intimidated them by its
completeness. Nevertheless, in an atmosphere of postwar social crisis, a loose new artistic
movement arose in New York City; one of newfound native energy and confidence. A mood of
continuous discovery was to change the character of American painting, and this episode is one
of the most fascinating and vital developments in American cultural life of the century.
Signature styles of new art included primordial elements of color, energy, atmosphere, and
nothingness. 131 The artists responsible for the new and original American art of the postwar
period have been called Abstract Expressionists, the New York School, or Action painters. None
of the terms is entirely adequate, but taken together they refer to the certain characteristic aspects
of the artists’ evolving work: the connecting of constructed and fluid elements of abstract form
with intense personal emotion; the oblique reflection of a metropolitan locale, of its energy,
dynamism, and human degradation, its visual confusion and aseptic, functional order; and most
130
131
37
significantly, the concept of the work of art as liberating and vital action to which the artist is
committed with his total personality.
The principal leaders of the new movement in painting were Jackson Pollock, Willem de
Kooning, Clyfford Still, Rothko, Arshile Gorky, and Hans Hofmann, among others. 132 These
artists abandoned mythic and primitive content in favor of purely abstract idioms, as they
discovered new resources for painting in elucidating the creative act as primary expressive
content. There was a shift in emphasis from what was taking place in the artist’s mind to the
image that was developing under his hand. Their work embodied a new time sense, insisting that
the painting be experienced urgently as a unified action and an immediate concrete event.
Therefore, the painting came to symbolize an incident in the artist’s drama of self-definition
rather than an object to be perfected or a structure made in accordance with prescribed rules.
The term “Action Painting” thus implies engagement and liberation from received ideas of
method and style. 133 While Rothko is considered to be the most original of pioneer abstract
artists, he never considered himself to be part of the movement and was never willing to
categorize himself or his work as Abstract Expressionism, or any other term used to describe this
period of American painting. His self-image as an artist was not that of a formal problem-solver
or self-revealing Expressionist but of a contemporary seer who, on the authority of the inner
voice, envisions and reveals new truths about the human drama. 134 Style among Abstract
Expressionists was closely aligned to individuality, and Rothko’s own signature motif consisted
of two or more rectilinear clouds of color in a vertical canvas. 135
132
Hunter, American Art, 190-191.
133
Ibid, 194.
134
135
Joselit, American Art, 14.
38
Multiforms
By 1946, Rothko began to question the role of his mutilated figures, hybrids of animals and
humans, and primitive forms. He decided that specific references to nature and existing art
conflicted with the idea of the “Spirit of Myth”, or what he began to call “transcendental
experience.” 136 Transcendental experience generated through the creation and apprehension of
art is analogous to that generated through religion. Because such an experience is “real and
existing in ourselves,” it is intense, dramatic, and human; it calls to mind death. 137 Like other
artists in his generation, Rothko struggled with categorical
distinctions between abstraction and representation and his
ambition to invest nonfigurative art with transcendent content that
would rival the elemental role of mythic and ritual in archaic
culture. 138 Conventional subjects were to be replaced by Rothko’s
own self-transcendent experience as revealed through art, painting,
and the inherent expressiveness of color. 139 By the late

Mark Rothko
Untitled
1940s, figurative association and references to the
1948
natural world disappeared from Rothko’s paintings.
Linear elements were progressively eliminated as asymmetrically arranged patches of color
became the basis of his compositions.140 He maintained that “the elimination of all obstacles
between the painter and the idea and between the idea and the observer” would allow the viewer
a better understanding of the work and, therefore, permit the artist to achieve clarity. In their
manifesto in the New York Times, Rothko and Gottlieb wrote: “We favor the simple expression
136
137
Ibid., 12.
138
139
Sandler, Mark Rothko Paintngs, 12.
140
39
of the complex thought. We are for the large shape because it has the impact of the unequivocal.
We wish to reassert the picture plane. We are for the flat forms because they destroy illusion and
reveal the truth.” 141 By 1947, Rothko had virtually eliminated all elements of surrealism or
mythic from his works, instead creating nonobjective compositions and indeterminate shapes. 142
These visual elements of luminosity, darkness, broad space, and the contrast of colors were
linked, by Rothko, to themes such as tragedy, ecstasy, and the sublime. He also stopped titling
his works for the most part, using numbers or colors in order to distinguish one work from
another. With the abandonment of lines, he also left behind
explanation, claiming that “silence is so accurate.” He feared that
words would only paralyze the viewer’s mind and imagination. 143 He
had a growing conviction that words could not substitute for a painter’s
making his paintings. Along with Clyfford Still, he had begun to make
an issue of the uselessness of words and the triviality of art criticism.
Their defiance of what they saw as the vulgarity of the art world is
hinted at throughout the late 1940s, becoming more arrogant in the
Mark Rothko 1950s. 144

No. 11/ No. 20
1949 In his multiforms, which was the term used to describe his
Oil on canvas
paintings from 1947-1949 to distinguish them from his later works of
similar compositions, Rothko relied on large shapes to convey emotional states. Soft, indistinct
edges formed from paint soaking into the canvas and whitish outlines surrounding the shapes
replaced the wriggling personalities of the earlier biomorphic motifs. He felt the blurring of
141
142
Ibid.
143
Ibid.
144
40
demarcations dislodged the shapes, causing them to hover. Rothko created a new technique of
dissolving colored paste in thin washes, leaving the canvas weave exposed and aesthetically
active. This technique influenced a significant new direction of abstract painting. 145 He was
able to fuse the forms to the flatness and format of the canvas with his diluted pigments, mostly
using sponges and rags to allow the paint to bleed and blur properly. 146 At times, paint can be
seen running upward across the surface; this is because the artist often inverted a picture while
working on it, sometimes changing the final orientation at a late stage. 147 He liked how this
method turned his canvas into an allover field of oneness, spreading rectangles to the edges of
the canvas to create a wholeness of his work. 148 His love of thin, radiant color and his conviction
that color constituted a self-sufficient medium powerful enough to express any idea or emotion
allowed Rothko to create works that expressed his transcendental vision. 149 His work began to
reveal a greater breadth of composition and scale and a heightened attention to color. He also
began to display his paintings without confined frames. 150
Color Blocks
Toward the end of 1949, Rothko progressed from his irregular washes of color, finding
them too diffuse and drifting. He had introduced a compositional format that he would continue
to develop until the end of his career. He reduced his former amorphous areas into a few softly
painted and edged rectangles of atmospheric color, symmetrically above each other on a more
opaque vertical field. 151 In these works, large scale, open structure and thin layers of color
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
41
combine to convey the impression of a shallow pictorial space where color attains an
unprecedented luminosity.
By 1950, Rothko had reduced the number of floating rectangles to two, three, or four and aligned
them vertically against a colored background. This was to be known as his signature style, and
from this time on, he would work almost invariably within this format, suggesting in numerous
variations of color and tone an astonishing range of atmospheres and moods. In his large
floating rectangles of color, he explored the expressive potential
of color contrasts and modulations. These paintings of the early
1950s, often referred to as his “classic” style, are characterized
by expanding dimensions and an increasingly simplified use of
form, brilliant hues, and broad, thin washes of color. 152 The
abstractions were at once unprecedented and the culmination of
Mark Rothko a long development, anticipated not only by the

Untitled (Blue divided by Blue)
1966 abstractions that immediately preceded them but by the
banded backgrounds of the Surrealist pictures and even by his insistent regularity of his subway
scenes of the thirties. 153
During this period, Rothko’s paintings increased dramatically in size. He scaled his
canvases to human size, intending the works to envelop the viewer, not to be “grandiose” but
“intimate and human.” 154 In a lecture at the Pratt Institute, Rothko told the audience that “small
pictures…are like novels; large pictures are like dramas in which one participates in a direct
152
153
Sandler, Mark Rothko Paintings,6.
154
42
way.” 155 He desired an intimacy with his “bigness.” His goal was to detach observers from their
mundane environment and attachments which prevent self-transcendence and at the same time to
convey this experience dramatically, purely with color. He intended for his canvases to be
backdrops in front of which observers are transformed into live actors. This evolution of
Rothko’s painting can be interpreted in dramaturgical terms as the assimilation of myth inspired
by action – the shapes as performers against banded backdrops – into the scene – the horizontal
rectangles as a kind of stage set. Rothko wanted an immediate and intimate communion between
the painting and the viewer. He was obsessed with the observer’s response to his work. 156
Rothko generally avoided explaining the content of his work, believing that the abstract image
could directly represent the fundamental nature of “human drama”, but most did not see art his
way. Because they were nonobjective, his “classic” abstractions only succeeded in bewildering
the viewer and most art critics. 157 It was equally discouraging that an exclusive emphasis was
given to painters like Gorky and de Kooning, distracting critics from paying sufficient attention
to the less aggressive type of chromatic abstraction emerging from the hands of Rothko, Still and
others. 158 Even so, Rothko maintained a commitment to profound content, and he believed in the
potential of his works to reveal metaphysical or symbolic meaning. 159 Through it all, he
managed to preserve the original insights drawn from Nietzsche, and he still saw his art as an
effort to express his sense of tragedy. 160
Painting was Rothko’s means, his only means to convey what he called human values that
were experienced as passing beyond. The problem of modern painting, as Rothko understood,
155
156
157
Ibid., 8.
158
159
160
43
was how to transcend consciousness of self. 161 The urge for self-transcendence had not lessened;
the same impulse that prompted earlier artists to invent monsters and gods motivated Rothko to
seek self-transcendence through nonobjective painting. 162 In 1950, an experienced painter-
turned-art historian, William Seitz, attempted to explore the foundations of the movement called
Abstract Expressionism through examining the works of several artists, one of whom was
Rothko. Seitz had his preferences, and Rothko seemed to him to be the most extraordinary of
painters. His conversations with Rothko were intense and helped inform his view of certain
aspects of the movement, such as the way American painters approached the notion of the
transcendental. He noted the importance of the matter itself and the artists’ commitment to
process, then carefully defined the way these painters used the word transcendental to “indicate
values, which, though subjective, are not merely personal. They are ideal or spiritual, but still
immanent in sensory and psychic experience.” 163 Rothko, above all, was concerned with such
values, and in his instinctive drive toward an absolute, Rothko was struggling to elicit means
unmediated by discursive language, or its formal equivalent in painting. 164 In his multiform
paintings, reds are moving both inward and to the surface without visible boundaries, and are
sent floating behind a rough rectangle of blue. Shapes that are deliberately stripped of
boundaries are posited in order to speak of verticality, or of the masking of space by means of
light. The experiences Rothko has known in the act of painting and in his moving around from
point to point are given their equivalents in reductions to essences. The rectangular shapes
disembody the “meanings” known to Rothko in his mythic phase, but they are meanings
nonetheless. By 1950, Rothko was absorbed by an enormous will to work toward transmitting
161
162
163
164
Ibid, 122-126.
44
the unnamed passions with which he had lived for so long, and for so long sought to express. He
assumed that, as he felt the difference between one canvas and the next, so would the viewer.
Since he had reduced his composition to just a few divisions of color, color would be the carrier
of the mood. For him, each canvas was different from the last. For those who could live in the
painting itself, like the phenomenologists, it was not difficult to understand Rothko’s continuing
struggle to make more and more precise the nature of his experience. He would repeat the
Existentialist notion that “a painting is not about experience, it is an experience.” 165 Despite the
fact that his fame was growing and his financial situation was
improving, Rothko secluded himself in his studio where he
worked on his huge canvases for most of the late1950s. In this
cramped space, he could only have a few large works out at a
time; one that was kept against a wall was one of his earliest
large abstractions, Number 22. This early work was consumed
with huge areas of floating yellow and orange, interrupted by

Mark Rothko, Number 22
1950, Oil on canvas, 117 x 107 1/8
only a red band hugging the canvas from side to side. Rothko
had not quite reached the ambiguity he would shortly perfect, and he had scored the red region of
the painting with scraped lines in order to call attention to the picture plane and its function as
the final determinant of image. The painting, by its scale alone, could be equivalent to an epic
drama, and while most thought it was an optimistic piece with its bright reds and yellows,
Rothko emphasized it was instead supposed to be the embodiment of tragedy. 166 The time it
takes to reach a visual resting point in scanning the canvas is enough to endow it with faintly
disturbing qualities that Rothko could see in terms of tragedy. Even yellow, with its
165
166
Ibid. 135.
45
conventional association to sunlight, would undergo Rothko’s transformation of meaning.
Rothko admitted that behind his final surface of rectangles lurked hidden events. He recalled the
classic technique of chiaroscuro, having been moved by old masters like Rembrandt and Fra
Angelico. Where there was a plane, there was a shadow; in each
case an underpainting was meant to be sensed as the shadow while
the oscillating surface was meant to be sensed as light. 167 Rothko
was attempting to generate light by overpainting, masking,
thinning, and thickening the work. Reaching for these rare effects,
Rothko managed to invent juxtapositions that were
Mark Rothko, Number 61 unprecedented. 168 The language of feeling that Rothko developed
1953
through the weighing out of measures of color intensities depended
as much on an occult vision of shadows as it did on light. These
masked chiaroscuro effects established moods to which Rothko
would give their weight, and each painting was weighted and
balanced differently. In his 1953 Number 61, Rothko weights the
canvas by brushing a brownish-red over a blue background. It is
read as density and transparency, but mostly as a darkness against
which the scraped and airy blue horizontal beneath it plays, opening
Mark Rothko, Whites and
out into an azure of infinity and seeping into the darker blue below. Greens in Blue, 1957
These weighted and balanced densities have a kind of lyrical grandeur, but another work keyed
to blue, in Whites and Greens in Blue of 1957, the feeling is enormously different. There is little
exuberance and the three forms lying on a blue background have a sort of finality. The
167
168
Ibid.
46
unpainting is controlled within the tightly organized central scheme. At the time this painting
was completed, Rothko claimed he had created the most violent painting in America, without
offering further explanation. His claim is taken to mean that by a supreme effort of will he had
harnessed turbulence and was painting the paradox of violence; that the colors that produced
immeasurable tensions among themselves were conceived as symbols. Refined a thousand times
and all echoes of the everyday world removed, for Rothko, they were equivalents of complex
emotions. 169 There is a sense of aura in these paintings, which recall his earlier obsession with
the subtle, invisible emanation or exhalation. He was already endeavoring to paint the
suspended, infinitely extensible air that hung about his mythic visions of the 1940s, and if he was
to find the doorway of which he spoke, leading beyond the everyday, he would need to be able to
conjure up his aura. After all, the idea of the aura is that it must be more than perceived, as were
his paintings. 170 His painting was to be immediately perceived while at the same time unfolding
its communication in time. A slow rhythm of apprehension would be established as light from
outside would slowly reveal the light within. 171 Rothko’s paintings of the 1950s continued, with
each canvas expressing in its own unspoken language an aspect of vision of the entire human
drama; of the single idea that would represent all the ideas of human feelings. 172 At the same
time, Rothko was concerned that his abstractions were comprehensible to anyone else. He was
skeptical, and this caused him great anxiety and was constantly exacerbated by the hostility they
elicited. 173
In a speech at the Pratt Institute in 1958, the first time he spoke out about his paintings and
objectives as an artist since 1949, he denied any concern with self-expression. Art was not self-
169
170
Ibid., 139.
171
Ibid., 141.
172
Ibid., 143.
173
47
expression, as he had thought in his youth. 174 His aim was to formulate a message which
transcended the self and was about the human condition in general. He denied his purpose to
make formal innovations, even though he “used colors and shapes in a way that painters before
have not.” He described his process by revealing his seven components of his work: above all,
his paintings had to possess intimations of mortality; he included sensuality – a lustful relation to
things that exist; tension; a modern ingredient was irony – the self-effacement necessary for an
instant to go on to something else; to make the awareness of death endurable; the ephemeral and
chance; and finally hope. He enumerated these elements of human content as if they were
measurable quantities. 175
In the early 1950s, Rothko was invited to teach a few summer semesters at the newly
reorganized California School of Fine Arts. Rothko offered studio instruction as well as lectures,
and the students came to admire him and treated him like a master. His work was known to them
from the preceding year’s retrospective at the museum, and students were all too eager to submit
to Rothko’s meditative approach. Many of the students were young men who had returned to
school on the GI Bill, and were ready to believe that there could be a totally new expression in
painting. Most were quite willing to hear Still, who also taught at the school, denounce the
European forebears and exhort them to follow their intuitions. Rothko was stimulated by the
school’s atmosphere, a slightly hysterical environment where students and teachers knew they
were making history. Rothko was described as a “very inspiring teacher,” 176 and as Douglas
MacAgy, the man whom invited Rothko to teach, put it, if one subscribes to the notion of
painting as a symbolic act, then one can understand what Rothko means when he says a painter
commits himself by the nature of the space he uses. MacAgy was one of the few who
174
175
176
Ashton, About Rothko, 102
48
understood that the “theatre of Rothko’s imagination” displays the basic assumptions from which
philosophies are formed. He continues to say that although the work is visual, presented through
sight, the experiences transcend the limits imposed by visible particularities. This was,
undoubtedly, one of Rothko’s principles. 177
Murals
For several years, Rothko’s desire to immerse himself in the spaces his paintings proposed
became more and more imperious until he realized that in order to satisfy his desire, he had to be
literal; canvases that would surround the viewer as murals. His opportunity to move into his
“jointed scheme”, as he called it, occurred in 1958, when Philip Johnson invited him to paint
murals for the Four Seasons Restaurant in the Seagram Building. During this time, he was
having an intense debate with himself about the meaning of art. He sought out friends who were
also exploring themselves and struggling with searching questions. One of his most stimulating
associations was with the poet Stanley Kunitz, who describes Rothko as “a primitive, a shaman
who finds the magic formula and leads people to it.” Kunitz and Rothko shared the same vision
of the contemporary world as fraught with distressing problems. They also discussed the moral
dimensions in poetry and painting. They agreed with the idea that moral pressures were exerted
in poetry and art, and that there was an effort to seek unity in the variety of experience; art
constitutes a moral universe. These wandering conversations between painter and poet fed into
Rothko’s enterprise. They gave him confirmation of his intuitions.178 As Rothko continued to
work on his Seagram murals, he stressed vertical elements, no doubt because of the architectural
nature of this endeavor. 179
177
178
Ibid, 151-153.
179
Ibid, 153.
49
As he worked painting by painting, he held in his imagination the effect he wished to receive
when they would finally find their form as an ensemble. By 1959, he was deeply immersed in
the problem of making his scheme conform to his inner vision. His theatrical use of fiery reds
reminded one of the flickering of candlelight, and the burning quality was heightened
deliberately as Rothko mixed raw pigments into the final surfaces of
the canvas. In these panels, Rothko changed his motif from a closed
to an open form, suggesting a threshold or portal. 180 The portal-like
shapes are not echoes of real architecture, but the vanishing, never-to-
Mark Rothko, Untitled

be entered portals of the Law. 181 The study of proportions in
(Harvard mural sketch)
Rothko’s mural cycles was not so much rooted in practical needs
of the Seagram restaurant as in Rothko’s need to understand
the abstract notion of proportion. 182 In fact, Rothko’s
paintings never found a home in the Seagram Building. He
installed his works in an interior space of his own, one in
which no other location could compare. 183
Soon after Rothko completed the Seagram works,
Wassily Leontief, a Nobel Prize winning economist who had Mark Rothko, Untitled,
Mural for End Wall, 1959
admired Rothko and been a friend for years, approached his
colleagues of the Society of Fellows at Harvard University with a proposal that Rothko be
commissioned to create murals for their future quarters. Most of the men were baffled by
Rothko’s work, but Leontief managed to persuade them with his enthusiasm. Rothko went
180
181
182
Ibid., 156.
183
Ibid.
50
through the ceremonious interview with the Fellows and a private interview with Harvard’s
president. Rothko was eager to get another opportunity to create his own environment via
painting in a public place since his first mural commission was never made public. The
possibility of “translating pictorial concepts into murals which would serve as an image for a
public place” 184 excited Rothko. Even when the room the murals were intended for changed
from the Fellows penthouse to an official dining room, Rothko remained calm. His reaction to
the modification reflected his general attitude of the late 1950s and early 1960s; he was more
confident and had experienced several moments of inner satisfaction. 185
Rothko’s last commission was in 1964 by Dominique and John de Menil. The De Menils
were patrons of art, favored the avant-garde, and also the chief benefactors of the University of
St. Thomas, a Catholic institution. Dominique de Menil proposed that Rothko execute a set of
paintings for the interior of a chapel to be built for the university in Houston, Texas. Rothko was
given the opportunity to finally realize his dream in full: to shape and control a total
environment. The environment was to encompass a group of fourteen paintings especially
created for the meditative place. The paintings created by Rothko from 1964-1967 for the
project represent the fulfillment of the artist’s lifelong ambitions as well as a breakthrough in
twentieth-century art. Rothko had the opportunity to determine the architectural setting and
lighting in which the paintings would appear. By doing this, Rothko found the catalyst for a new
mode of pictorial dynamics based on the interaction of paintings, architecture, and light
previously unknown. 186 While much of Rothko’s work is unprecedented, the Rothko Chapel
was the culmination of the artist’s aspirations as a painter. The Rothko Chapel is a marriage of
religion, art, and architecture, functioning as a chapel, a museum, and a forum. The Chapel
184
Ashton, About Rothko¸158.
185
Ibid, 158.
186
Sheldon Nodelman, The Rothko Chapel Paintings (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1997), 33.
51
provided diverse programs, stressed the importance of human rights, and hosted events that drew
such icons as Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama. The Rothko Chapel serves as a sanctuary to
everyone, regardless of faith, religion, or denomination. It provides a temporary place for major
religious holy days and celebrations for communities that have not yet found a place of their
own. 187 Unfortunately, Rothko never got to see the opening of the cathedral. It opened its
doors in 1971, a year after the artist’s death.
Darkened Works
Rothko’s work began to darken dramatically during the late
1950s; a development related to his Seagram murals, in which he used
a palette of red, maroon, brown, and black. 188 By 1957, his work began
to take a serious direction toward “a clear preoccupation with death.”
His works in the late 1940s and early 1950s were preoccupied with the
theme of tragedy, but Rothko’s conception of tragedy was not always

Mark Rothko
Untitled (Black on Gray)
1969/1970 bleak. The earlier “classics” were tragic because they evoked the
sensual world and its dissolution into the spirit, or death, but this awareness of death gave rise to
an urge for life. However, by the late 1950s, life, as well as death, was barely endurable. The
artist’s growing anguish caused him to darken his palette, making his atmosphere oppressive and
difficult to breathe and stretch, figuratively. 189 In 1958, author Dore Ashton accounted for his
change in tone, suggesting that the general misinterpretation of his earlier works of yellow,
orange, and pink exasperated the artist, who turned to a dark palette so his images could speak
“in a great tragic voice.” 190 With some exceptions, the darkened palette continued to dominate
187
“About the Chapel,” The Rothko Chapel.
188
189
190
Ibid.
52
Rothko’s work well into the 1960s. He developed a technique of painstakingly overlaying colors
until, as Ashton recalls, “his surfaces were velvety as poems of the night.” 191 One of the
exceptions during this dark period was a series of works where Rothko used a softer range of
pinks and blues, recalling his smaller works from the mid-1940s. In a series of brown, black and
gray paintings produced from 1969-1970, he divided the composition horizontally and framed
the image with a white margin formed by applying masking tape before painting the canvas. The
sharply defined edge establishes a complex interplay between the work and viewer, an effect
Rothko constantly attempted to achieve. The viewer is drawn into the painting by its sensuous
surface, yet kept at a distance by the stark framing device. 192
While Rothko pinched pennies for most of his life and career, he did succeed in selling
several paintings in the early 1960s, fetching high dollar amounts. In the
early 1960s, an Italian collector offered $100,000 for the Seagram murals.
He backed out on his offer before Rothko could accept, but bought two
other works for $20,000 each. In 1962, a large Rothko was sold for
Mark Rothko $30,000. Money was finally pouring in for Rothko, and his high income
Number 1
1964 made his gallery representations impractical. In one year, Rothko could
sell five paintings from his studio for the same amount he could sell ten from a gallery, and did
not have to pay the one-third commission. He became a well-known artist, receiving invites and
requests to attend parties and events. The Rothkos even attended President Kennedy’s
inauguration dinner, sharing a table with Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson. Even so, Rothko was
acutely depressed. 193
191
192
193
Seldes, Legacy, 49-50.
53
At different times during the 1950s and 1960s, Rothko produced a substantial number of
small works on paper. While some were studies for his murals, others were simply smaller
variations of employing a similar dynamic of form and color. 194 One series of his works on
paper were dark, foreboding works of blacks, purples, and browns with a decisive line separating
two rectangular areas, in which, as he said, “the dark is always on top.” He himself was startled
by these works and wondered if it were agony or persuasiveness they represented. 195 Many of
them were mounted on panel, canvas, or board in order to simulate the presence of unframed
canvases. The smaller format especially suited the artist in 1968, when his physical activity was
dramatically affected by a serious aneurysm. He continued to work predominantly on paper
even after he returned to a relatively large format in 1969. 196 Late in his career, he felt estranged
from the art world and its young generation of artists. Chain smoking, highly nervous, thin, and
restless, Rothko spent his last years talking intermittently with close friends. He spoke of his
aesthetic despair and the hollowness of his fame. He was convinced that on the whole he had
never been properly understood. 197
There were many paintings from the last two years of Rothko’s life; some reverting to his
older version while most were new departures for another destination. In some, he initiated the
glaring white border, emphasized by the perfect angles that held in loosely painted interiors.
Sometimes during these last years, there were paintings in oil in which Rothko used only
gradations of black invoking his magical sheens. At the end of his life, Rothko had no need for a
range of colors; there was only one kind of light. 198 The restrained palette in most of his last
painting is related to Rothko’s earlier technique of oppositions, but now the effect was heavy and
194
Seldes, Legacy, 49-50.
195
196
197
Ashton, About Rothko¸188.
198
Ibid, 189.
54
airless. 199 In many pictures painted in the last two years of his life, particularly in the hopeless
“black” ones, there is little but the intimations of mortality. 200 Rothko discovered in his large
paintings a “door into an internal realm.” This interior realm is perhaps where Rothko wished, or
could only, live, and what he hoped to express. If his last two years were hellish, his paintings
reflected them faithfully. It would be futile to see them as anything other than a mournful
reckoning of his life’s preoccupations, birth, dissolution, and death. 201 Physically ill and
suffering from depression, Rothko committed suicide on February 25th, 1970. At the time of his
death, he was widely recognized in Europe and America for his crucial role in the development
of nonrepresentational art. His vibrant, disembodied veils of color asserted the power of
nonobjective painting to convey strong emotional or spiritual content. With an unwavering
commitment to a singular artistic vision, Rothko celebrated the near mythic power art holds over
the creative imagination. 202
Rothko’s death was the end of his life, but it was not the end of his struggles. The long,
vicious settlement of his estate became the subject of the famous Rothko case. After his death,
Rothko’s three trusted friends, Professor Morton Levine, painter Theodoros Stamos, and
accountant Bernard J. Reis, as named in Rothko’s will, acted as executors of the estate. They did
not do so honestly. They sold his entire legacy of 800 paintings for a fraction of their real worth
on terms suspiciously unfavorable to the estate. Later, when the details of the dealings became
known, the subsequent lawsuit brought on by Rothko’s daughter would drag in and out of the
courts and press for years. 203 However, not all publicity after his death was bad. In early
November, 2005, Rothko’s 1953 oil painting, Homage to Matisse, broke the record selling price
199
200
201
202
203
Seldes, Legacy, 9.
55
of any post-war painting at a public auction, fetching $22.5 million. In 2006, Rothko’s son
Christopher edited a previous unpublished manuscript by Rothko about his philosophies on art,
entitled The Artist’s Reality, published by Yale University Press. In May, 2007, a Rothko
painting broke record sales again, selling a 1950 painting, White Center (Yellow, Pink and
Lavender on Rose), for $72.8 million at Sotheby’s New York. More recently, a play based on
Rothko, “Red,” written by John Logan, opened at the Donmar Warehouse in London on
December 3, 2009.
56
6 CONCLUSION
From the very first Rothko set forth an “Americanist” view that individuals are a product
of their mental environment and heritage. Mark Rothko was no different. A Russian-Jew who
was transferred to America, Rothko never felt fully comfortable with himself. Choosing a career
as a painter, Rothko found an outlet through which to express his anguish. Rothko grew up in
the midst of the Russian Revolution, experienced effects from the First World War, and managed
to scrape by through the Great Depression and World War II. These effects of war effected and
defined his career. Whether it was growing up in suppressed Russia, starving through the Great
Depression, or suddenly being among European artists who fled to America to escape the war,
Rothko lived most of his life in some state of war or hardship. Because of his volatile
surroundings, Rothko dedicated his life and work attempting to evoke the totality of the human
experience. In order to do this properly, Rothko had to slip back through time as so many artists
had done before, summoning up origins from the past. Rothko found his signature style,
the1950s motif of soft, rectangular forms floating on a stained field of color, which are
characterized by meticulous attention to color, shape, balance, depth, composition and scale,
through influences of Nietzsche, Greek tragedy, and his Russian-Jew heritage.
Active in political issues and debates, Rothko maintained the social revolutionary ideas of
his youth throughout his life. He expounded his views in numerous essays and critical reviews.
He fully supported the artist’s total freedom of expression, which he felt was compromised by
the market. During times of war and struggle, American Scene art, which Rothko had an
aversion to, was in high demand. This put him at odds with the art world, and he never seemed
to recover. Enjoying moderate fame and a meager living, Rothko’s life as an artist never seemed
settled or fulfilled. During his lifetime, Rothko strived to be a leader and example, but never got
57
adequate recognition from critics or the public he felt he fully deserved. Even though he was a
prominent leader of the New York School and now considered the most renowned of all Color
Field painters, Rothko felt that he had accomplished little. The period in which he lived offered
him plenty of inspiration, albeit mostly negative. Rothko focused on the tragic throughout his
lifetime; he was constantly being faced with Depression and war issues. While the war did bring
him several influences from European masters who helped define his work, it still did great
damage to the sensitive artist emotionally.
Rothko was a product of his violent, unsteady environment, which made him a nervous,
anarchic revolutionary who felt that the answers to life were in the past. While Rothko’s work
focused on the tragic, his life seemed to be a tragedy in itself. Rothko’s personal life left much
to be desired. He separated from two wives and lived most of his later life in lament and
anguish. Believing that he had nothing more to offer the art world, and assuming he had lived
his life in vain, Rothko left the world in true “tortured artist” fashion: he took his own life.
Contrary to what Rothko might have thought, his influence on the art world was and is
substantial, and his contribution to art has been nothing less than educational and inspirational.
58
REFERENCES
“About the Chapel.” The Rothko Chapel. 2004. Web. 12 Nov. 2009.
Ashton, Dore. About Rothko. New York: Oxford UP, 1983. Print.
"Cossacks." Encyclopedia of Ukraine. Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies, 1984. Web. 1

Feb. 2010.
Hopkins, David. After Modern Art: 1945-2000. New York: Oxford UP, 2000. Print.
Hunter, Sam. American Art of the 20th century. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1972. Print.
Hunter, Sam,. Modern Art. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2005. Print.
Joselit, David. American Art Since 1945 (World of Art). London: Thames & Hudson, 2003. Print.
Mann, Donna. “Mark Rothko Exhibition.” National Gallery of Art. 3 May 1998. Web.
10 Nov. 2009.
Nodelman, Sheldon. The Rothko Chapel Paintings: Origins, Structure, Meaning. Austin:
University of Texas Press, 1997. Print
Phillips, Glenn, and Thomas Crow, eds. Seeing Rothko (Issues and Debates Series). Detroit:
Getty Trust Publications: Getty Research Institute, 2005. Print.
Rosenblum., Robert,. Mark Rothko: Rothko's Surrealist Years. New York: Pace Gallery
Publications, 1981. Print.
Sandler, Irving. Mark Rothko Paintings, 1948-1969. New York: Pace Gallery Publications, 1983.
Print.
Seldes, Lee. Legacy of Mark Rothko. New York: Da Capo, 1996. Print.
Waldman, Diane. Mark Rothko, 1903-1970 a retrospective. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1978.
Print.
Wick, Oliver. Mark Rothko. Milan: Skira, 2008. Print.
59
VITA
Elizabeth Doland is an art history major, graduating from Louisiana State University in
2007. She began her college career after high school in 2003. In her first two years of college,
she studied graphic design at McNeese State University in her hometown of Lake Charles,
Louisiana. After switching majors from graphic design to art history, she transferred from
McNeese to Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where she continued her
education in the art program, earning her Bachelor of Arts degree in December of 2007. She
enrolled in the Graduate Program at Louisiana State University, opting to earn her Master of Art
in Liberal Arts, allowing her to study not only art but English and philosophy as well. She will
earn the degree of Master of Arts in Liberal Arts in Spring of 2010 from Louisiana State
University.
60

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The effect of war on art: the work of Mark Rothko

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Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the

The Interdepartmental Program in Liberal Arts

3 GREAT DEPRESSION EFFECTS………………………………...13

war-torn environment, of which his work was a true reflection.

disappear while forms, shapes and colors were used as mediums.

by the Czar’s secret police, or Cossacks. 4

clubs, fraternities, or societies. 22 Nevertheless, Rothko maintained an average GPA studying

Jewish radical than Yale’s stuffy halls.

Beginning of Life as Artist

interest in art led him to a commitment in painting. He

remarked years later, “I became a painter because I

wanted to raise painting to the level of poignancy of

music and poetry.” 24 He eked out a living finding odd

jobs in the garment district, but by January of 1924, he

was enrolled in life drawing classes at the Art Student’s

League. Besides a brief stint in Portland in mid-1924,

where he studied acting in a theatre company, he stayed at

the Art Student’s League until May 1926. 25 The classes

were freely structured and taught by established artists

influence to Rothko’s early career.

El Greco, Cezanne, and important players in the French avant-garde, and

Cubism behind and started concentrating on expressionist figure studies

in landscape settings and still-lifes. Rothko studied under Weber in still-

l’oeil technique and collage-like images. 29

expressive distortions echo the work of Weber, but Weber’s

principles were more influential on Rothko as he experimented

with his own subjects. 30 Rothko’s young talent could be seen

in his works of the late twenties; in his conventional yet

sensitive urban scenes, spontaneous landscapes and studies of

nudes. 31 In his experiences at the League, Rothko had his first

subway scenes and other paintings in the early 1930s. 38

Avery exuded modest domesticity and lived within the

perceived world with great ease and success, something Rothko

longed for and appreciated. However, Rothko’s innate interest

in cosmology, and later, his emotional pull towards mythology,

leads him on an artistic voyage much different from Avery’s.

Nevertheless, the peacefulness of Avery’s studio, along with his

simplified and colorful depictions of domestic subjects, left a

Milton Avery lasting impression on Rothko, particularly his application of

as Avery made an appearance in his life. 39

American art that the man on the

street could identify with. One

such painter, Thomas Hart

Benton, converted from

abstractionism after World War I

and attacked European sources,

asking American artists to

separate their art “from the

appear in his street scenes and still-lifes. 49

During the 1930s, Rothko produced a number of

haunting images of the New York subway,

where he uses windows, portals, and walls to

serve as structural and expressive devices of

confinement. He portrays the subway as an

eccentric place, containing a dramatic contrast