For those Rothkos do not make a statement; rather, they raise a demand, or more precisely maybe, a question. The kind of questions, though, that the Kabbalists raised, the kind larger than the sum of their possible answers- nothing can exhaust them.
There is a moment in looking at those Rothkos when we stop looking at them and they start looking at us- at, and if we are not careful, if there is not enough of us there, straight through us. We can’t help ourselves; those Rothkos keep bleeding out of aesthetical categories and into ethical ones.
Not, is it beautiful? But rather, how should one lead one’s life?
Text: Lawrence Weschler, Expressions of an Absolute, in Everything That Rises:A Book of Convergences