I was asked to cover a class today in a room down a hallway tucked away where all the culinary and art folk can have their space. Scattered across the floor of the hallway were dozens of paintings created by students. I poked my head in the art room and asked, “Y’all doin’ Rothko?” Indeed they were. “You should take’em to the Chapel.” She already has the field trip approved. I volunteered to be a chaperone. Never been, and I have to ask myself why.
I’ve never seen a painting of his in person, but I’ve read that his work is spiritually life altering.
My take is that the man put every bit of himself into his art, so completely that there was nothing of him left. And the climax of his life, his final breath, was his Chapel, which he never saw. But I bet he actually did see it, because I bet he’s there now.