It was just a long weekend, a Thursday to a Sunday.
Friday morning I got up and headed to the Rothko Chapel. There were one or two other people in the chapel at the time, one, to my annoyance seated on the forward bench right in from of the dark purple painting. I went around looking at the other paintings. I like to get close to paintings, I want to see the artist's brush strokes. This excites museum staff who are wary the close inspector is going to deface the paintings ot to breathe on the painted surface and cause some chemical reaction the the detriment of the painting. I knew that about museum staff and they did not know me and so told me not to get too close. I sat on a bench in front of one of the bluish side paintings. The person was still sitting on my bench in front of my big dark purple painting so I went around the octagon room to the other paintings, forewarning the staff that I just wanted to see the brushwork for a few seconds and wouldn't breathe. "You still can't get too close, sir." They were two women.
Finally the annoying person on the bench in front of the dark purple painting left and I took my rightful place. I stayed in front of that painting until lunch time, most of the time on the bench, some of the time sitting on the floor in front of the bench.
When I left the two staff women assumed I was gone for the day and wished me good day. I told them that I would be back after lunch. When I returned the bench in front of the purple painting was unoccupied and I plopped myself back down.
My memory is it was then, after lunch, perhaps owing to a change in the light coming from the sun roof opening above, that I first felt the purple painting change. The color changed and it vibrated. I could now pick out sections of the painting that, owing to Rothko's single stroke, horizontal brushwork cum paint drip, were painted lighter, others darker, it was a monochrome but it was not uniformly a monochrome, there were lighter and darker shades of dark purple. The subtle variations in light made by the brushwork caused the monochrome to come alive, that is the best way I can put it, the painting did not throb or pulsate, it was more subtle than that--the brushwork gave the painting life and I thrilled to it. It was an animate object.
When I left at around 4 pm that first day I had a satisfied warm glow to me and told the two staff women how much I liked the chapel and the paintings. They made small talk back and warmed to me. They had watched me now for several hours and were no longer concerned that I might deface the paintings. The next two days I was permitted to breathe.
Friday morning I got up and headed to the Rothko Chapel. There were one or two other people in the chapel at the time, one, to my annoyance seated on the forward bench right in from of the dark purple painting. I went around looking at the other paintings. I like to get close to paintings, I want to see the artist's brush strokes. This excites museum staff who are wary the close inspector is going to deface the paintings ot to breathe on the painted surface and cause some chemical reaction the the detriment of the painting. I knew that about museum staff and they did not know me and so told me not to get too close. I sat on a bench in front of one of the bluish side paintings. The person was still sitting on my bench in front of my big dark purple painting so I went around the octagon room to the other paintings, forewarning the staff that I just wanted to see the brushwork for a few seconds and wouldn't breathe. "You still can't get too close, sir." They were two women.
Finally the annoying person on the bench in front of the dark purple painting left and I took my rightful place. I stayed in front of that painting until lunch time, most of the time on the bench, some of the time sitting on the floor in front of the bench.
When I left the two staff women assumed I was gone for the day and wished me good day. I told them that I would be back after lunch. When I returned the bench in front of the purple painting was unoccupied and I plopped myself back down.
My memory is it was then, after lunch, perhaps owing to a change in the light coming from the sun roof opening above, that I first felt the purple painting change. The color changed and it vibrated. I could now pick out sections of the painting that, owing to Rothko's single stroke, horizontal brushwork cum paint drip, were painted lighter, others darker, it was a monochrome but it was not uniformly a monochrome, there were lighter and darker shades of dark purple. The subtle variations in light made by the brushwork caused the monochrome to come alive, that is the best way I can put it, the painting did not throb or pulsate, it was more subtle than that--the brushwork gave the painting life and I thrilled to it. It was an animate object.
When I left at around 4 pm that first day I had a satisfied warm glow to me and told the two staff women how much I liked the chapel and the paintings. They made small talk back and warmed to me. They had watched me now for several hours and were no longer concerned that I might deface the paintings. The next two days I was permitted to breathe.
