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Tag Archives: mark rothko


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riding wild horses. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

david, mark and i stood by the dyed harbor in the wind. mark commented that he did not have a painting of st patrick’s day green, rusty brown, cement beige. we told him that he did now. because we had made it so – as we stood there – “totally looks like a mark rothko,” we opined as we viewed the photograph i had just taken. mark laughed – in that other-dimension way we imagined. i reminded him of green and maroon – and my dedication to this painting at the milwaukee art museum. he was amused and agreed that emerald, rust and cement was – maybe – a worthy addition.

david just finished a piece he painted for me. it is stunning, both visually and emotionally. a really large canvas, it will find a home in my studio, where i can be reminded of the freedom – of space, of life, of voice, of love – it represents.

i have always wanted a horse and so he gave me one. this painting. and you can see – by the repose of my face – how undeniably happy it makes me, the peace it bestows, breathing the very air of all the universe.

it is said that mark rothko sought to make paintings that would bring people to tears. “i’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions – tragedy, ecstasy, doom and so on.” as an artist, i cannot imagine any other reason to create other than to tap in, to elicit, evoke, to acknowledge human emotions.

when i stepped onto the floor of the basement – off the last wooden step – i stared at the painting in progress. it was potent for me. it was a painting of an arrival, of sorts. though David’s title is in dreams she rides wild horses, the reality for me is the wild horse of voice. it is the gallop of speech, the beginning of the release of silence, the horse i never yet had. i wept as i told him.

mark appeared suddenly, standing on the basement floor with me. he stepped under one of the studio spotlights and called over to d, “good work, robinson. way to make her cry.”

d looked surprised and glanced at me calling back, “thanks, rothko!” before i wrapped my grateful arms around him, “yeah, good work, robinson.”

*****

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idris, richard, mark and ellsworth. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]o

we walked out of the parking garage and up the grassy hill to the path along the lakefront. a perfect day outside, we strolled as long as hunger allowed us and then we turned around, completely sated by art and fresh air, heading for the public market and bowls of gumbo at the fish market counter.

the idris khan exhibit “repeat after me” intrigued us. layers of digital repetition, scores of music sedimentarized into a single panel, stamped words superimposed on stamped words, scribbles on top of scribbles, it was surprising and fascinating. beautiful – seemingly blurry – images in larger-than-life scale, it felt an interesting statement of the concurrence of everything as it happens in this plane. in the collections of classic scores, words stood out to me: presto…poco rall (poco rallentando)…tempo markings…because he allowed them to be visible, i wondered if they were adjectives of his life then or just simply part of the music he was layering. i admonished myself then, aware of the overly analyzing curator mode to which i was succumbing. i remembered seeing christopher wool speak…the curator was going on and on about the psychological underpinnings of his work and he sloughed it all off – he was merely creating what he liked, what he felt he wished to express. art doesn’t always need to be analyzed – it is sometimes just your heart speaking out loud, on canvas, in image, in wet clay, in melody, in haunting harmony.

walking through this exhibit – from room too room- i was so aware of all the music books, sheets, scores in my own file cabinets. i kept thinking of ways i could incorporate all my collections into art pieces – for surely, there is little use for some of it otherwise and it will certainly go the way of recycling that millions of pages of music-on-paper have already. perhaps even an accent wall expanse papered with pages – the genius of composers gone before physically surrounding a studio space. the energy – sans the analysis.

idris khan called us. but, as always, *richard and mark and ellsworth* were there for us as well – steadfast and notoriously inspiring. we stopped by to say hello and they nodded the quintessential guy head-nod, barely discernible but a clear thank-you-for-always-stopping-by. we wouldn’t miss it.

we drove to have gumbo, hearts full and talking over each other about what we had seen. and then, the ride home was quieter, reflective and flush, revitalized.

*****

*favorites richard diebenkorn, mark rothko, ellsworth kelly

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blurry from here. [d.r. thursday]

it’s all blurry, isn’t it?

we are mutually reading a book – the measure – in which every person in the world over 22 years old is gifted a box. in that box is a string which represents the length of one’s life. we are about a third of the way through so making our way along the trail of this story. we can’t help but wonder if we would open the box.

it’s all blurry from here – the future. no matter what, we do not have any idea what’s out there, what is to come, what will or will not happen. even with the best of planning, the field of vision is not crystal clear.

our video of choice on-pillows was a pct hike. no surprise there. but the youtube we watched was extraordinary. an “older” couple – 61 and 60 – backpacking this thru-hike, exquisite photography, even more exquisite narration. more than a few times we wished we had jotted down his words, wisdoms from the trail, wisdoms from blurry life. they called their hike “a pacific crest trail coddiwomple documentary” and he explained that “coddiwomple” means “to travel in a purposeful manner towards a vague destination, ” to “keep moving forward even when you’re not quite sure where you’re going”.

blurry. life.

we could seriously relate. even without being on trail, we pay attention to just how blurry things really are. the rearview mirror can give you hints, but never quite enough information and, besides, it’s not the direction any of us are headed in our timelines. they keep going and going. focused, unfocused.

i have found myself peering at the future…as if through those tiny opera glass binoculars…trying to see what is out there in front of us. the aperture is narrow in diameter, the focus is not all-consuming. anything outside of the zone is out of focus. blurry from here.

i went through photographs the other day. i take hundreds each week. the unintentional rothko showed up in my camera feed. studying what came before and what came after gave me clues as to what it was a picture of. i now know what it is. but it doesn’t change the feeling the photograph evoked. the painting of color fields, blurry and without clear lines of distinction. a rothko created by accident.

life is kind of like that, i guess. you are out there, coddiwompling around, living life, breathing in and out, never really sure of the destination, always surprised along the way. you paint what you think will be the future. and then, in any given moment, it all gets blurry. blurry, but nevertheless – surprisingly – beautiful.

i’m not sure i’d open the box.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY


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i’ll play for you. [k.s. friday]

green sounds different than red which sounds different than blue. green looks different than red which looks different than blue. green feels different than red which feels different than blue. so a color field of all three would seem to emit, depict, emote a wide spectrum.

i’m pretty sure that mark rothko and i would have been friends. his goal: “to capture the essence of basic human emotions on the canvas and then evoke those emotions from his viewers.” (masterclass.com) my goal: to capture the essence of basic human emotions on the piano and then evoke those emotions from my listeners. instruments – the canvas, the piano – that tap in. yes. friends.

in my mind’s eye, i can see a tour. all over the country to different art museums that house a mark rothko or two. a big yamaha concert grand on the wooden floor, placed in front of the giant color field painting, paused in silence, waiting. abstract expressionism on the canvas. and then, the translation – abstract expressionism on the piano. action. color field. repeat.

i’m pondering this painting green, red, blue. in thinking and feeling green, i ponder what i’ve already composed that sounds, feels, looks green. in thinking red, i ponder what i’ve already composed that sounds, feels, looks red. in thinking blue – specifically blue-around-the-edges in this case – i ponder what i’ve already composed that sounds, feels, looks blue.

in a push of creative courage, i can see this tour. in a room void of people or full of people, i imagine me and the painting and a piano. high ceilings, the swoosh of the sustain pedal brushes against the walls and swirls around. no other sound. yet. and then.

i’ll play for you
i’ll play for you
i’ll play for you

(seals & crofts)

and you will hear green and red and blue as you will see green and red and blue. and maybe, if you are open to it, you will feel green and red and blue. and mark and i will have done our job.

it’s the work of all artists – really, everywhere: play for you.

*****

EVERY BREATH ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY


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getting it. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

i was one of them.

the first time i walked by i was a misunderstander, a glancer, a critic.

i thought – and spoke aloud – that it seemed elementary to display canvasses with the primary colors…large canvasses at that, lots of wall space, valuable real estate for an art museum.

it only seems right that ellsworth kelly, in a conversation with john cage (i mean, who gets to talk to john cage!!) said, “i am not interested in painting as it has been accepted for so long – to hang on the walls of houses as pictures. To hell with pictures – they should be the wall.” and so, ellsworth created big multiple panel paintings – murals – to cover walls. they are stunning and i have been enlightened – by sheer experience of his work. you need just stand there a few extra moments and it hits you. his “austin” temple of light is on our list of places to visit. minimalism. color. breath.

we visited the milwaukee art museum and the two of us, ellsworth, richard diebenkorn and mark rothko all hung out together. their notoriety far surpasses anything we could dream of – yes, yes – by miles and miles. but they love hanging out with people who get it and we were happy for their company.

we talked about art and music and simplicity and air and light. we talked about the ocean park series and rectangular color fields and bigness. we talked about communicating basic human emotions in our work. we talked about journeys and life and times of passage, evolution. we rued the difficulty of transitions and obstacles. and then, though sans museum ticket but clearly listening in, john cage stopped by and reminded us, once again, to “begin anywhere.”

and then it was time for us to leave, to go sip wine at the public market and to talk about the magic of getting it.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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