Rothko Chapel

Mark Rothko’s attempt at a sacred space is the inverse of his paintings.

I should start by saying that I love Mark Rothko’s paintings. I find almost all of them interesting and a few are addictive, captivating and deeply spiritual to me. I can sit and look for hours into them. His Chapel is not one of these experiences.

I’d wanted to see the Rothko Chapel in Houston for almost a decade but had no other cause to go to Texas, so finally after over 2 years of pandemic I figured it was time for a refill of artistic inspiration.

I arrived on a typical Houston day in late April— hot, humid and in this case, a Saturday where the Menil foundation was having a lawn party with lots of outdoor activities for families. The Chapel was packed. It was noisy. People milled about. Children climbed on the pews. Bags clanked. Heels clicked. Questions proliferated. I found it hard to relax.

THE GROUNDS

The Chapel sits on a small rectangular lot with a reflecting pool and Barnett Newman sculpture on the South end and the Chapel on the North. It’s surrounded by fairly dense trees so the natural approach is from the North, the rear of the Chapel. It is not an appealing introduction to the building.

Shown under recent renovation - Photograph by Arturo Olmos

The front of the Chapel is equally heavy and imposing and the dark rectangular opening seems like a claustrophobic entrance to a pharoah’s tomb. There are copious photos online showing the same views and I had hoped that it was a case of screen-flattening which was hiding the real depth and feel of the building. Unfortunately this is not the case. The building is as lifeless and hulking in person.

The best part of the exterior grounds is no doubt the reflecting pool showing the Barnett Newman broken obelisk. In the least, it is a welcome respite from the brutality of the main Chapel building. Oppositely thin and light with both a skyward reverence and a earthward grounding, the obelisk has enough space around it to allow you to converse with it.

I purposefully did not read about the Chapel or the Barnett Newman and have only glanced at the promotional brochure provided at the Chapel because I wanted to give the space the most open-minded and open-hearted attention. I went because I wanted to feel spiritual, not intellectual. Unfortunately I did not get that experience. The sculpture is interesting for sure, but I think the heavy geometric forms meeting in space at such sharp points is almost violent. Where the knife point exists, where pressure is exerted and finally with the broken upper column it seems to suggest the destruction of the aggressor, the breakdown of tools and the severance from God. The reflecting pool ironically cuts off the broken upper column and I wonder if it is purposeful in that it gives us some hope in reflection (literally) that the aggressor is more pious than outward action suggests. In any case, this sculpture did not make me feel any sense of spirituality, peace, relaxation or anything else I had hoped to find. I suspect it may have an overt meaning.

THE PLAN

 
 

The Chapel, from what I gleaned from the brochure, is agnostic in purpose and there are numerous books from various philosophies and religions in the anti-room, however the shape of the building is clearly in a traditional Christian cross. I’m sure there has been extensive debate about this paradox and by critics and various political interests over the years. I am not a religious person so the form and feeling of the space is of more importance. I have no problem with very traditional church layouts or the converse as long as they cohesively create an engaging space.

One enters the main interior space through an anti-room with two relatively small doors on either side. This provides a screen to the main room and keeps the exterior light out of the Chapel. The anti-room is quite dark and one might expect a grandiose reveal when moving from the anti-room to the main room as in most historic churches. This is not the case here. The difference in scale and grandiosity is not dramatic. The anti-room feels more like an appendage haphazardly added onto the main shape as opposed to a purposeful contrast.

THE INTERIOR

Facing North opposite the main entrance

The octagonal main room features a large painting or set of paintings on each wall roughly averaging 10 x 12 feet each (3 x 4 meters) each. The only source of light is from the central ceiling skylight which was recently renovated. Various photos over the years show artificial lighting on the paintings. The benches seem to exist in different positions over the years as well and the configuration I saw had them all arranged parallel to the main 3 panel painting shown above. There were 3 floor cushions aligned on the North and South walls where one person was meditating. Various people circled around the outer rim while others sat mostly facing the North wall. The effect of these 3 traffic patterns created somewhat of a maelstrom— circular, linear and static all working opposedly in a chaotic structure. It was not relaxing in the least.

Secondly, the octagonal-domed shape is absolutely horrible for noise, essentially focusing the sound of people from any part of the room towards the centre so it is very hard to sit on the benches in quiet. Of particular irritation is the drone of the air conditioning. I’m not sure if this system was in place when the Chapel was originally constructed but I find it hard to believe that Rothko wouldn’t have noticed the bass-y hum and its distraction from the visuals that dominate the space.

Lastly, and most importantly, are the paintings themselves. It’s almost impossible to detach them from the space, but if I imagine them on their own in a traditional gallery I can feel their power being similar to his other great works. The feeling of being “in” the painting, losing yourself, feeling purely, meditation etc. are all somewhere contained in these 8 paintings. However, the placement in this room completely nullifies these powers.

Rothko is famous for a quote:

“The reason for my painting large canvases is that I want to be intimate and human. To paint a small picture is to place yourself outside your experience, to look upon an experience as a stereopticon view or with a reducing glass. However you paint the larger picture, you are in it. It isn't something you command.”

In the octagon, the paintings definitely command you but you are not “in” it. There is no welcome. Instead there is an oppressive feeling of overbearing. These large grey-blue rectangles encircle without respite. Look away from one and at each angle you turn to another. No doors, no windows. It is a prison.

It is another highly studied and frequently referenced building that the Chapel most resembles - Jeremy Bentham’s Panopticon. The Panopticon was designed for perfect surveillance of prisoners.

 
 

I think even an architecture neophyte can feel some of the same constriction between the two buildings. Standing in the centre as the viewer, it becomes obvious that it is not a position of strength, power or peace. It is the viewer who is being subjugated. Again, I didn’t research the meaning behind the Chapel but Rothko has often called himself the most violent of painters and certainly there is a strong theme of violence in this space. Whether it is a commentary on oppression or whether it is a failure of design in a peace-seeking space I do not know, but the effect is certainly overwhelming.

I observed each of the people sitting therein for a length of time and there was none of the kind of bliss or contentment that happy people innately show. They all seemed highly agitated and some appeared to be fuming in anger. Even the single meditating woman seemed struggling to hold concentration. I returned later in the day in hopes of finding the room empty but can confirm that the feeling was the same and people’s body language similar.

The one spot of respite I found was in the anti-room in the dark corner facing into the main room. The temperature was cold and it was quiet. From afar, the architecture of the room was imperceptible, flattened into the painting or photographic dimension. Only the cutoff glimpse of the main and side paintings was visible with the visage of people milling in front of them. It was a harmonious composition and yes, peaceful to be out of that room. Sadly photography is strongly policed so even this pleasing angle was impossible to capture.

THE MARKETING

After I returned the second time later in the day I took the Chapel brochure with the thought of using it for its interior photography in this article. Here are some snapshots of it:

Frankly, I find the brochure disgusting. If, as it says, it is a sacred place, why do we need it hammered in so strongly? “Open your mind.” “Be in the moment.” There could easily have been nine exclamation points added for certainty. Surely the space itself should make this obvious and activate those things automatically. At the Taj Mahal do they need a big sign saying “Open your mind.”? It’s absurd.

It seems as though every “sacred” thing left in society has to have a promoter and billboard attached to it today. Given my strong antagonistic experience of the space, I find it even more suspect how strongly “handled” the message is in the brochure. It reeks of Stalin-era propaganda modernized to current Instagram-influencer style. As Frank Constanza from Seinfeld exclaims: SERENITY NOW!

CONCLUSION

I had hoped for an uplifting visit to the Rothko Chapel as a means of refilling my spiritual and inspirational gas tank after 2 years of Covid. Instead I found the exact opposite. The brutality of the property and the art therein is terrifying. It is so completely engineered that it begs the question of whether it is intended as an experiential mirror to focus the feeling of oppression on you, or as what the marketing claims, a completely failed place of peace. I’ve given it a 10/10 Absolute rating purely for the intensity of feeling it can conjure. It is monumentally powerful. However, in relative terms compared to Rothko’s paintings and the personal connection they can offer, the paintings are rendered opaque by the space and they get a 1/10.

Some people seek out horror movies and gain pleasure or experience from them. I am not one of these people. The Chapel is an unqualified horror movie.

PRICE

FREE

AVAILABILITY

Rothko Chapel
1409 Sul Ross Ave., Houston, Texas, USA

THE RATING

10/10 Absolute
1/10 Relative

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