Rothko, the "red" paintings, and Rome

Like his contemporary, Jackson Pollock, Mark Rothko was a figurative painter before he made his reputation as one of the great Abstract Expressionists of the postwar era. As the New York Times notes in a recent (March 18, 2026) article on a major exhibition of his paintings now mounted in Florence in multiple locations through August 23, both facets of his work were influenced by time spent in Italy: in 1950 (before his famous "red" color-field paintings), 1959, and 1966. The painting at the top of this post was accomplished in 1957.

Rothko was deeply influenced by two sojourns in Florence, where he was much taken with the frescoes of Fra Angelico at the former convent of San Marco, and with Michelangelo's vestibule in the Laurentian Library, both sites for the current Rothko show. 

What the Times doesn't say is that each of the trips to Italy involved substantial time spent in Rome, and that his time in the Eternal City may have been seminal in developing the color sensibility that was critical to his painting. 

Rothko

In 1950 Rothko toured the Forum with his wife, and overall he was impressed with the city's "layered" history, an aspect of Rome that would also directly influence the American architect Robert Venturi.

In 1959 he visited the Pantheon as well as Paestum in Italy's south. "I have been painting Greek temples all my life without knowing it," he commented. Visiting the Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii, he described a "deep affinity" for the "dirty" reds of Roman frescoes.  

Rothko

He was in Rome once more, in 1966, when he again admired the Pantheon and had the time (he was there for 2 months) to walk the city.

We're tempted to claim that Rothko's "red" paintings were a product of his time in Rome. The problem, based on our extensive walks in the city and environs, is that Rome's walls are not red. We can think of one exception--the "Red Hotel" in Garbatella. Had Rothko been enamored of Bologna, where there are many red walls, we might be closer to an Italian explanation for his famous "red" series.  

Rothko's famed red paintings may have been inspired by Matisse's "The Red Studio," (1911), which depicts the French artist's studio. Rothko was attracted to the painting.

Matisse, "The Red Studio"

Nietzsche's work was also influential, leading Rothko to think of red as a "blood-like" color that could convey the tragic side of human nature.

Bill 

For information on tickets to the principal exhibition at the Palazzo Strozzi in Florence, see here.

Language Encounters of the the 3rd Kind: Calzoni & una Moglie Ubriaca

Italians are believed to be more tolerant than the French (but then that isn't saying much) in dealing with tourists eager to put newfound language skills to work.  Intrepid traveler and guest blogger Allen Beroza, a retired attorney from Buffalo, New York, put the theory to the test in a pair of encounters, the first in Florence, the second at a Rome restaurant not far from the Spanish Steps. 

Piazza Sant Croce, from in front of the building housing
the Scuola Toscana language school

While attending language school in Florence I discovered a pizzeria located right on the Piazza del Duomo featuring calzone that looked absolutely delectable.  Unable to stop and partake on my first visit, I came back a couple of afternoons later.  Alas, the calzone were all sold out!  Something in me wouldn't let it go.

"Che peccato!" ("What a shame!) I moaned loudly.

Yup, said ye old proprietor, a touch gruffly I thought, they were all gone.

"Sono stato qui due giorni fa" I continued ("I was here two days ago")...

No response in particular...

w I really decided to gild ye old lily, so I said, only partly in jest, "E da due giorni penso dei suoi calzoni" ("And for two days I've been thinking about your calzones...")

Calzone goes
into basement oven

Still nothing.

"Sogno dei suoi calzoni!" ("I've been dreaming about your calzones!")

Oh well, it was just not to be  After all, what could he do?  I actually didn't think there was anything.  My daughter and I trudged away.

A triumphant Beroza, with calzone

When lightning struck, Italian style.  Customers came out of the shop, shouting for us to return.  Ye old prop had decided to make me up a custom calzone.  Though he was the only one tending the pizzeria he left the shop semi-full of customers and took me downstairs, where it turned out he had a full kitchen replete with stacked pizza ovens.  He asked me what I wanted in my calzone, kneaded the dough, loaded it up, popped it in an oven and told me it'd be a few minutes. 

Back upstairs none of his customers who'd been waiting seemed fazed by any of this.

As for me, gotta confess I got a thrill from the exchange, not so much from the calzone.

Via Sistina, looking up toward the top of the Spanish Steps

A little less than a week later I was part of a group of five people looking for a restaurant in Rome on a Saturday night.  We found a likely looking spot on via Sistina called "La Botte" and we went in.

Now this was my first night in Rome, and I was in just a fine frame of mind.  I must tell you that I had been told that Italians have a marvelously colorful way of saying "I want to have my cake and eat it, too."  They say "I want to have a full cask AND a drunken wife!"

And guess what?  "La botte" means "cask" in Italian.

OK, then, as two young waiters and a busboy escorted us to our table I had to try it.  I shouted out "Voglio avere una botte piena..." ("I want to have a full cask...") then paused for a beat before continuing--loudly and in unison with our dining room crew!---"e una moglie ubriaca!"  We instantly became favored customers, swarmed with attention and recommendations throughout our meal, which concluded with grappa on the house all around. 

Allen Beroza