The thing for me about Rothko is…well, pretty much everything. The meditative fields of colour with their feathery edges melting into the chromatic background, layers upon layers of thin pigment applied in broken brush strokes dancing across the canvas breathing it to life, the large scale of the work intended to envelop and entice its viewer into it’s abyss, the unabashed demand for complete absorption, contemplation and emotion from those who choose to see….a bit too much? I don’t think so. When I was in my early 20’s, a few years ago, I had the most profound experience viewing the Seagram Murals at the Tate Modern. I sat alone in a room of many for what seemed a very long time, floating in and out of the paintings,completely engulfed by their depth and intensity of colour. Transfixed by the ethereal nature of the work I cried…a lot, and then I left. The experience left an indelible mark on me and forever changed how I view and experience art. I recently returned, but this time was different. The melancholy was amiss…trust me I searched for it! The luminosity of the work struck me-I felt light, awake, joyful. I didn’t stay nearly as long, I didn’t need to. I got what I needed and left. Smiling, happy, excited. The paintings had shown me another dimension and I have come to realize that what the viewer brings is of equal importance to our understanding of the work. The paintings are not just a reflection of Rothko’s state of mind but also a mirror into the state of mind and heart of the viewer.