Color Field Study
10.02.2020
Before I began taking film and digital photography seriously, I spent most of my creative energy painting. In fact, painting is what first peaked my interest in pursuing art. I worked my way through watercolors and acrylic, before ultimately trying oil paint. I fell in love with it. I particularly enjoy experimenting with the interplay of color and texture: the vibrancy of the pigments, the translucent consistency, and the way in which the combination of the two could evoke emotion. One of my favorite artists is Mark Rothko. I love his color field paintings. Speaking about his work and artistic process, Rothko said, “I'm not an abstractionist. I'm not interested in the relationship of color or form or anything else. I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.”
While the intention of Rothko’s work is to communicate deep human emotion, without the formal elements, the result would not be as nearly impactful. Color communicates emotion just as much as representational subject matter. Color is merely an extension of light and light holds great power over our mood. Why else can overcast days make us rather dreary, while the sun’s rays bring such delight? Rothko’s application of paint contributes to the overall experience of his works as well. The innumerable thin layers of paint create such a depth that I have not experienced in many other works. This depth of field creates vast space for us to sit with ourselves and with our own emotions. The invitation is introspection and the response is placed in our hands, or mind rather.
Regardless of whether Rothko was correct in his summation, his works are powerful. I teared up after spending quite a bit of time staring into No. 61 (Rust and Blue). (You can see this work at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles.) His works are simultaneously something and nothing. The lack of representational subject matter give us the power to make meaning of it as we will. The color may guide us, but ultimately the vastness of the canvas leads us to contemplation and introspection.
On one of my more recent trips, I spent some time at Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado. The light changed drastically the few hours I was there: from blinding sunlight to dark and heavy cloud coverage. Upon going through my images, I was pleasantly surprised to see how my photograph unintentionally imitated one of Rothko’s paintings (see below).
Blue and Grey (2020)
Blue and Grey (1962)
Mark Rothko
Both works are, at first glance, flat; a result of Rothko’s minimal brushstrokes and my own lack of focus. And yet there is depth. In the photograph, you can just make out a landscape consisting of a bit of earth and sky. Blue and Grey (1962) has layer upon layer of paint, which contribute to the rich quality of the colors and the appearance of different planes on the flat surface. Although the works are lacking the sort of representational subject matter expected in works of art, the very absence of direct subjects create space for us to intimately relate to the works. Be it paint or photography, color and depth of field evoke an emotional response… as long as you are willing to accept the invitation to enter the expansive and contemplate what lies there.