Mark Rothko Returns to the Tate Modern - Thank You!

On a recent visit to the Tate Modern, to see the Sunflower Seeds of Ai Wei Wei, I went up the escalators as I usually do, to stand outside the 'Body Art' section of Material Gestures sighing. I complained as I always do, as I approached; saying to whoever I am with, 'This is where Rothko used to be'. But to much to my surprise, and delight, all those minutes spent wishing seemed  to have had some effect on the mind of T.Modern. There, back in the heart of the gallery, were the beloved Seagram Murals, hung perfectly, in a dark chamber, just like they deserve. I had to fight back the urge to dance and give the security guard a kiss. Happiest moment in the Tate Modern for a long time. Thinking about Rothko reminded me of the very first thing I ever wrote on art for Exepose newspaper.
Its a gush-rush, but its for Rothko. So this is for him, and the curators of the Seagram Murals at the Tate. Thank You for affirming my belief in the possibility of wishes coming true.

A Rothko Moment. Centre Pompidou Paris, January 2010. Photo by Rachel Samuel (Babe/ Photographer)

The Article:

There is a moment in every art lover’s lifetime, when strolling through a gallery somewhere in the world; something about one single piece of art connects to a part of your brain that you didn’t even know existed. Something suddenly clicks, illuminates a dusty field of consciousness that makes you think ‘Wow!’ For me, this moment came stepping into ‘The Red Room’ at the Tate Modern and meeting the work of Mark Rothko head on.

If you haven’t seen one yet, I can’t express enough what an astoundingly amazing painter this man is. He paints in a sort of abstract-expressionist style, but really defies all categorization; he is an artist who stands in his own category, of ‘colour-genius’ or something similar. His paintings consisting of blocks of colour layered usually in overlapping rectangular shapes may not sound much on paper, but in reality a Rothko is captivating.

His works in red are arguably the most stunning, they pulse, they breathe, they are like the inside of a living being, yet a part unfixed by scientific fact. There is a tension within the soft edged rectangles, between nature and of the act of construction. The colours and brush strokes are undeniably vivid and painterly, but there is something through the colour, an energy trapped or perhaps expressed through the paint.

Rothko is one of the great Modernist painters, and of late has not been given wide enough acclaim in the public art sphere for his work. The removal of the moody ‘Red Room’ dedicated solely to Rothko at the Tate Modern a few years ago was a tragic event, especially to be replaced by a seemingly sadistic painter who indulges in painting in blood for shock-appeal. Although there are many great Rothko’s still standing in the walls of the Tate Modern in London and indeed in the Tate Liverpool, it is a great shame that this beautiful room was lost.

Personally for me, Mark Rothko will always be a painter who defines the beauty of what art is, and what art can do and I would urge anyone who has not spend at least five minutes staring into the depths of a Rothko to do so as soon as you can, it is a fascinating experience.