Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Mark Rothko

Quote by Mark Rothko

“A picture lives by companionship, expanding and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer. It dies by the same token. It is therefore risky to send it out into the world. How often it must be impaired by the eyes of the unfeeling and the cruelty of the impotent.”

Quote by Mark Rothko

Work

The Rothko Chapel: An Act of Faith

This book examines the Rothko Chapel, a non-denominational sanctuary in Houston known for its series of large, dark abstract paintings by Mark Rothko. It discusses the chapel's conception as an interfaith space, the artist's deep personal commitment to the project, and the architectural and artistic decisions that shaped its contemplative atmosphere. The work considers how the chapel functions as both a site for private reflection and a public monument to faith and human rights, highlighting its enduring role in modern art and spiritual life. more

Author

Mark Rothko
Mark Rothko

Mark Rothko, born on September 25, 1903, and died on February 25, 1970, was a renowned modern artist from Russia, who later moved to the United States. His large-scale, vibrant abstract paintings have had a profound impact on the 20th-century art world. more

You May Also Like

“Despite the fact that an Indonesian island chicken has probably had a much more natural life than one raised on a battery farm in England, people who wouldn't think twice about buying something oven-ready become much more upset about a chicken that they've been on a boat with, so there is probably buried in the Western psyche a deep taboo about eating anything you've been introduced to socially.”

“He would say, "How funny it will all seem, all you've gone through, when I'm not here anymore, when you no longer feel my arms around your shoulders, nor my heart beneath you, nor this mouth on your eyes, because I will have to go away some day, far away..." And in that instant I could feel myself with him gone, dizzy with fear, sinking down into the most horrible blackness: into death.”

“Yes," she answers and does not move. She might, at this moment, be nothing but a floating intelligence; not even a brain inside a skull, just a presence that perceives, as a ghoast might. Yes, she thinks, this is probably how it must feel to be a ghost. It's a little like reading, isn't it-that same sensation of knowing people, settings, situations, without playing any particular part beyond that of the willing observer.”