Now, you might be thinking: what the hell does this title even mean. I ask myself a similar question whenever I am in the Met standing before a Mark Rothko painting. But, despite my confusion of what Rothko is even trying to communicate through what looks like a cross between children’s paint and hotel art, I still feel emotion pulsing throughout my body whenever I look at Rothko’s number 3, for example. I find it’s fascinating that this feeling arises without understanding what, exactly, the painting represents. There’s no clear subject, no familiar image to interpret. Instead, it’s just color fields, layered rectangles hovering in space, seemingly simple yet profoundly moving. How can something so abstract create such a powerful emotional impact?

Color as Emotion

Rothko once said, “I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions—tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.” His art doesn’t aim to depict an object or a scene. Instead, he uses color and form as a direct expression of feeling. The colors in his paintings seem to resonate on a primal level; they are deep and immersive, pulling you in and inviting you to feel and drink the colors, rather than to think.

For example, in front of a Rothko piece dominated by deep reds, I feel warmth, passion, or even unease. Shades of blue may evoke calmness, introspection, or melancholy. It’s not that these colors are “about” anything—they simply are, existing purely to evoke a response. It’s as though Rothko’s paintings bypass language and logic altogether, tapping directly into our emotional core.

The Power of Abstraction

What makes Rothko’s work so moving is its abstraction. With no subject to interpret, our minds aren’t busy trying to assign meaning or context. Instead, he invites an experience. In the absence of “things” to analyze, I am left with color, form, and the raw emotional impact they create. This creates a meditative experience, allowing viewers to lose themselves in the artwork without the need to understand it in conventional terms.

Without any figurative elements to distract us, I feel more aware of my own responses. Rothko leaves us left to notice the subtleties in how a painting affects us—how the weight of the colors, the space between them, and even the edges of the canvas evoke a feeling. This abstract quality invites us to feel without overthinking, transforming the act of looking at a painting into something more akin to listening to a piece of music or meditating.

A Mirror for the Self

Rothko’s paintings are often described as mirrors for the viewer’s own emotions. When I stand before a Rothko, I find that I am not just seeing colors on a canvas; I also undergo a process of introspection. Rothko’s simplicity of form means there’s space for each viewer’s personal experience to fill in the gaps. The emotions we feel may reveal something about ourselves, even if we don’t entirely understand what or why.

This effect explains why Rothko’s works can feel different each time we see them. One day, the painting’s colors might feel serene, even comforting. On another day, the same piece might evoke loneliness or tension. Rothko’s work doesn’t impose an emotion; rather, it creates a space for our own emotions to surface, inviting us to connect with ourselves in unexpected ways.

The Value of Feeling Without Knowing

In a world that often values explanation and understanding, Rothko’s art offers something rare: an invitation to feel without the need for comprehension. His paintings reminds that not all experiences have to be understood in rational terms. Sometimes, it’s enough to feel something deeply, to be moved by color and form without needing a story to attach to it.

For many of us, including myself, this is unsettling or uncomfortable. We as humans are used to searching for meaning, looking for answers, and putting experiences into words. Rothko’s work, however, challenges this tendency, asking us to simply let the art wash over us and feel what comes naturally.

In the end, Rothko’s paintings offer a powerful reminder that art doesn’t have to be “understood” in the traditional sense to be meaningful. Sometimes, the most profound experiences come not from what we know, but from what we feel.