The Rothko Chapel itself is a postmodern structure, while Rothko is traditionally described as an abstract expressionist. The artworks in the Rothko Chapel, three triptychs and one singular painting, are Mark Rothko’s last paintings before his suicide. Coming into the small, dark building from the blinding, suffocating Houston heat is somewhat eerie. Sweat dampened skin and clothing are instantly chilled by powerful air conditioning. That cool moistness mixes with silence, stone brick floors and the blackness of the dark paintings to create a cave-like atmosphere. Until eyes adjust. Then, the black isn’t black, it becomes shades of colors that layer for varying degrees of light. Their depth seems swimmable. The Chapel is calm, peaceful. It evokes contemplation and, through the tragedy of Rothko’s suicide, a desire for hope. Elemental, yet complex.

I can’t say something about liking or disliking this place. It has been in my life for so long, become attached to so many emotions and memories. A metaphysical existence, removed from concreteness despite its concrete form. I remember not liking it, I remember thinking it was dismal and gloomy. I’ve cried there, overwhelmed with sadness or beauty. But the memories blur, they’re a painting that seems black but is really a combination of everything.