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.

Rome 2nd Dirtiest City: Laments, and a Solution

We were disappointed--one might say devastated if it didn't seem hyperbolic--to learn that Rome had been named the second dirtiest big city in the world, after Athens. How to deal with this terrible news, this reminder, however deserved, of our failure as a city, as a people?

How could this have happened? We thought we had done everything possible: our big public trash bins--the "casonette"--are too few and too seldom emptied, guaranteeing that each will be surrounded by, and buried in, mounds of garbage most of the time. The skeletal remains of scooters, their bodies still chained to sign posts or trees, line the curbs. Because most cars once parked never have to move, a layer of unreachable debris accumulates underneath.


Rome's citizens have been doing their part, too. Last year the voters elected a right-wing mayor, whom they trusted to be appropriately disengaged from such mundane matters as "sporcizia" (filthiness), and they haven't been disappointed at his non-efforts. They have also cultivated and defended the right--it is close to a duty here--to throw all manner of stuff--cigarette butts, gum, candy wrappers, advertising circulars, plastic bags (a local favorite), unpaid bills, love notes, bits of food--on the ground, where they belong. The city's dogs have been trained to avoid public parks and use the neighborhood sidewalks, knowing that their owners will leave their doings where they fall. Bravi!


Our public authorities and workers are also to be congratulated, especially for ignoring mounds of trash on Metro stairs and along rail lines at stations, where litter contributes notes of sparkle and color to an otherwise drab view from the platform.


We're aware that in other countries, and other cities, volunteers (we're not aware of any Italian equivalent of this word) will now and then organize to clean up a neighborhood, a street, or a stream bed; or merchants or condominum owners will take action to insure that the sidewalks where they work and live are washed and swept. Fortunately, no such bizarre ideas have taken root in the Roman mind. Borrowing from the thoughtful, socially advanced, residents of the state of New Hampshire, we can only add, "Live Free or Die!"

Yes, despite our best efforts, we've failed. To be sure, Rome has easily defeated such priggish cities as London and Genoa, where they use machines to sweep the streets and--you won't believe this--lawnmowers in the parks. Beneath contempt. And we have overcome the odds to finish ahead of Palermo and Naples, where the garbage is never picked up, as well as New Delhi, Mexico City, and Chernobyl. But second to Athens? Humiliating!

Cosa c'e' da fare? What's to be done? How can we get over the hump, or "over the dump" (ha, ha). It's a tough order, because Athens is no slouch at filth, and we can imagine our Greek counterparts hard at work hatching new ways to make their city dirtier.

Still, we have one suggestion that can't help but intrigue our readers, and that may just do the trick: bring back public urination. The great advantage, need we say, would be to add a new level of odor to the city--a pungent reminder, for the history buffs, of Rome's medieval period. Yes, this solution might result in the elimination of restrooms, public and private, and with them, no doubt, would go some of the "points" the city earned in the recent competition for "most disgusting and nauseating toilets"--a strong point in our application. But the city's 20 million tourists would be grateful that they could now pee anywhere; they'd be sure to come back, again and again, just to experience the return of this delightful custom.
Bill

Walkin' the Walk, Italian Style

If you've been in Rome more than ten minutes, you've seen the characteristic strolling position of older Italian men: hands behind the back, slight lean forward. What's up? Anthropologists might argue that the walk has evolved in a safe, secure society in which older persons need not, and do not, think about having their hands available to ward off predators. Gerontologists would add that only the slow-walking elderly would assume the behind-the-back position, because only at low speeds is the walker unlikely to need his hands to break a fall.

Bill