RED - A Play about Marc Rothko

RED - A play about Marc Rothko.

Dear Hank;

Jan 28, 2012

Went to see “RED” a play about Marc Rothko.

I’ve written about Rothko earlier this year. He’s the guy that painted those big rectangular dark canvases with two rectangles lying horizontal on the painting. I wrote about how I never “got” Rothko, never understood him, never saw what the big deal is about him, that is until I saw his work from the Texas Chapel that were hung in the tower Gallery of the East Wing of The National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. I got him because I sat and looked at those paintings for half and hour. As my eyes adjusted I began to see the dark subtle vibrancy of the canvases: all different, but all similar.

The play is a two hander between Rothko and an assistant. It talks about art. It’s meaning and Rothko’s place in it. Rothko wanted to do monumental works that would be timeless. He didn’t want to do decorative pieces, or pieces that were made to hang over someone’s mantel; he wanted his works to be looked at and contemplated. He wanted to show the flow back and forth between vibrancy and control. He wanted to strike a balance between the opposing forces, knowing all the while that he’d never get it right, but he hoped to come close.

The play touched on his frustrations, how he wanted to be accepted, yet hated everyone and everything that did accept him. He railed against what he considered kitsch that was being sold in the galleries and art houses.

He fought his inner demons; he challenged his young apprentice to think.

This was heavy and heady stuff. this was not a light fluff play. This was a play that wanted to make you think, make you feel, make you examine who you are and what you stand for. It challenged you if you were willing to accept the challenge.

At one point he’s complaining about the word “fine.”

The monologue went something like this, “How are you? Fine. How’s the weather? Fine. Do you like the art? It’s fine. Everything is fine...”

He went on to say everything couldn’t be fine.

When the play is over and we are leaving the theater; we hadn’t even made it out the door (and the Red Barn Theater is a small 100 seat theater) someone was asked what they thought of the play. The response?

“It was nice.”

Egads, did they sleep through the show?

B