The Rubesletter - Back to black at the Rothko Chapel
This is the Rubesletter from Matt Ruby. I’m a comedian, writer, and the creator of Vooza. Every Tuesday, I send essays, jokes, and videos to your inbox. You’re on the free plan, for the full experience, sign up for a paid subscription. Back to black at the Rothko ChapelOn paying attention and what I've learned from a lifetime of looking at Mark Rothko's art. | Also: Airbnb, civil war, NBA, dating apps, men's rights activists, velcro, Bo Burnham, victimhood, & more.If you encountered the Rothko Chapel’s paintings in a book or online, they’d just seem like dark purple squares. “What's the point of this?” you’d ask. Or maybe you’d even go, “Whatever, a fifth grader could do this. Who cares?” But man, getting up close is a whole different thing. You perceive the massive scale, each brushstroke, and the subtle borders. You sense the intentionality of it all, that someone chose everything you’re seeing. (Rothko even “home brewed” his own paints from ground pigments.) An art chapel Then there’s the context of the space. You’re in an “art chapel.” But what the hell is that? You can’t talk, take photos, or use your phone. (In fact, the brochure’s tagline is “Be in the moment.”) There are just a few benches and some pillows on the floor. That – along with the art – is all there is here. It’s a space devoted to silence and contemplation. Even the books out front (every religious tome you can think of is laid out on a bench and available for perusing) set the tone. Inside, the colors dominate. Wherever you turn, you encounter a massive, pulsing blob. They seem to operate as a collective – all those dark purples and blacks working with and around each other. It feels like there are other colors underneath too, striving to come to the surface like a baby chick attempting to break through its shell. The space is lit by natural light, with sunshine pouring through a slatted ceiling opening that looks like venetian blinds made out of hardwood. As clouds move and sunlight hides and seeks, the artwork seems to shift and change too. Suddenly, you see more of those brushstrokes – the more time you spend there, the more humanity comes out. (Tangent: Imagine being Ottoman or Venetian. Once you were known for your empire that ruled the world. Now you're known for comfy foot stools and blinds that close.) A lifetime with Rothko Every few years Rothko’s work returns to me. Before this, I peeped a show of Rothko’s paintings on paper at the National Gallery in DC with my sister and nephew. And years ago, I went to the Tate Modern in London which featured rooms devoted to his work. And prior to that, I remember flipping through a book of his entire life’s output; it started off so colorful and detailed, yet slowly, over time, descended into darkness, like a visual representation of that Amy Winehouse song where she fades to black. 🎶 You go back to her / and I go back to black 🎶 He kept getting more abstract and when he couldn’t go simpler, he got darker. And then, in the end, there seemed to be nothing but dark. Unpaintings. That’s when he decided to take his own life. There was nowhere left to go. The paintings at the Tate are his Seagram murals. If you’re unfamiliar with the backstory: He made those for a fancy restaurant in a fancy hotel. By the time he was done with them, he realized he didn’t want to his art in that place, surrounded by those people. So he reneged. Pretty rock ‘n roll. (Note: This was before everyone artist craved a collab with Red Bull that nets ‘em a promotional kiosk at Art Basel.) The chapel in Houston makes sense in that context. It’s not NYC, Wall Street, or the Four Seasons. Nor is it Art Basel, Hollywood, or a place to host a gala. There’s no admission fee. It’s not for impressing rich people; it’s for sitting in silence and staring. “I am interested only in expressing basic human emotions – tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.” Content vs. context Our modern world of “content” is often devoid of context. It all comes through the same firehose, injected into our timelines at breakneck pace. (Even the word “content” reeks of tech execs who want “creators” to pump out more engagement sausage from the user generated factory.) We usually know little about a person’s body of work, though. It all comes to us like tiny beads from isolated droppers delivered via algorithm in a seemingly random fashion. We consume those drops without knowing the totality of the bottle or the person who filled it. Instead, we get a taste and are asked, “Did you Like that?” In response, we snap our judgements and swipe on. On to the next. The work is somehow both inches and miles away us. We are seeing more than ever, yet we never truly get close to any of it. But at the Rothko Chapel, you have to get closer. You can’t swipe, you can only sit. And Rothko's work is all about paying attention. “It’s just a dark square.” Nah. You just need to spend time in a room with it, shift your perspective, and get surrounded by it. Surrender to it. You realize it’s so much more than that first impression. And that feels like an embedded lesson from Rothko: How much you pay attention to something is how much you can get out of it. Your effort is the ceiling. As with any relationship, whatever you put in is what you get back. An amoeba is nothing, until you view it under a microscope. Then you see it crawling, dancing, and navigating its environment – you see it is alive. Unart Back to that exhibition in DC: The thing that spoke to me most wasn't even a piece of Rothko’s art. Instead, it was one of the easels where he created his paintings. He’d hoist canvasses on and off it. As he created, paint would invariably spill off the edges onto the easel which collected stains and strokes – residue never meant to be considered art. To him, that easel was functional. A tool. But in this museum, it seemed like not only a piece of art, but like a collage of all his art. Hundreds (more?) different pieces had dripped together in harmony, revealing something about the man and how he worked. It felt like viewing a compilation of his output as opposed to one individual piece. What stuck to that easel may not have been “art” to him, but I loved it. (I get off on that kinda process stuff.) In fact, some of my favorite art is stuff that wasn’t even intended to be art. My go-to example: the fire extinguisher with a spiral hose on display at an gallery. Isn’t that art too? Another example: These fishing boats I took photos of on the island of Vis in Croatia. Fishermen, not artists, painted these boats. And then the ocean had its way with them. Together, they produced marvelous abstract art that no one even noticed because, well, they were just fishing boats turned upside down on the shore – unless you paid attention. But I noticed, photographed them, printed them on canvas, and they now hang in my living room. Get close Rothko is one of the reasons I think like that. A lifetime of consuming his work has taught me to look more closely. Because you get to decide what is and isn't art. You can choose to think something’s cool, valuable, and meaningful – or not. It can be in a museum or it can be trash pressed into the sidewalk. Whatever you decide to put under your microscope and truly examine becomes art. There’s something democratic about that: Every second is an opportunity for any of us to be an artist. Because paying attention is art. The Rubesletter is reader-supported with free and paid subscriptions available. If you want to support my work, the best way is by taking out a paid subscription. Thanks.Quickies🎯 Discovered this amazing kind of Airbnb! You can cancel the day before no problem, getting in is simple, it’s located in the heart of downtown, it gets cleaned every day, and no one leaves a review on you afterwards. It’s called a hotel. 🎯 The Avengers we really need are Melinda Gates and MacKenzie Scott teaming up in an ex-wives club kinda way to create a social media app that isn’t some devilish algorithmic nightmare. That’s right, I’m suggesting a…SPITE APP. 🎯 A civil war ain't gonna go well for the left. It's tough to sneak up on the enemy when they’re all wearing camo and everyone on your side has blue hair. 🎯 The worst part of not having Mark Jackson calling NBA games anymore is that my mama keeps asking, "Where did that man go?" 🎯 Producers of NBA halftime/post-game shows during the playoffs: "You know that chemistry our team built over the season? Let's bring in some completely inexperienced player-turned-broadcaster and ruin all that!" 🎯 Blow just isn’t for me. I’m already amped up enough from anxiety, intergenerational trauma, and my entire timeline. 🎯 Dating app advice for dudes: 1) Don’t post a photo catching a fish, post a photo of you in your therapist’s office. 2) You in a sportscar? Ugh. You reading "Nonviolent Communication: A Language Of Life"? Hot. 3) Abs shot? Nah, that’s over the top. You doing emotional labor? YES, KING. 🎯 The NFL is a bunch of dudes accused of domestic assault wearing pink ribbons to raise awareness of breast cancer. 🎯 Can men and women just be friends? Yes, a man can be just friends with a woman if he LOVES her. That's the only way for it work. You want a guy to call you, meet for coffee, and care about your feelings while never expecting romantic affection in return!? OK, but c’mon: That is a true, deep, intimate love. 🎯 Nothing makes you sound shorter than adding a “1/2 inch” to your height. 🎯 One thing Americans take for granted: Not having to negotiate the price of everything. I remember one time in Morocco a guy ACCEPTED my offer on a lamp while also being FURIOUS with me. Damn, man. Pick a lane. 🎯 The difference between pickup artists (y'know, 2005ish "The Game," Mystery, etc.) and 2024 men's rights activists is audience. The former was trying to attract women, the latter is trying to attract men. And when ya think about it, that’s kinda, well, y'know. 🎯 Interesting how everyone who wanted to Occupy Wall Street is now all about ending an occupation. 🎯 Kids, one time this guy (Howard Dean) screamed funny so we decided he couldn't be President. He wasn't even mocking disabled people or anything. Just a weird yelp and America was like, "Nah." 🎯 If America is Van Halen, we are definitely in our Sammy Hagar phase – and on the verge of bringing in Gary Cherone. 🎯 I'm very good at feeling slightly uncomfortable and then deciding to move to the other end of the subway car. In a way, it's what I've been doing in relationships my entire life. 🎯 Idea: A reality dating show for cooks called Chef’s Kiss. The logo: 🤌 Comedy🃏 Get jokes, info, and clips of my standup via social media: Instagram, TikTok, Threads, and YouTube. 🃏 Road dates coming up: Denver, Boulder, Arlington (VA), and Victoria (BC). Ticket info. 🃏 My other newsletter is Funny How: Letters to a Young Comedian. Comedy nerd or comedian? You’ll dig it. 🃏 You can listen to my podcast: Kind of a Lot with Matt Ruby. 🃏 NYC weeklies:
5-spotted🗯️ Bo Burnham on Deadpool and the toothlessness of irony:
🗯️ Freya India: Stop Rewarding Victimhood and Bring Back Defiance!
🗯️ Wellness, but make it feel like a hospital: At-Home IV Drips Are the Latest Luxury Building Amenity.
🗯️ What You Can’t Say on YouTube. Skirting YouTube's rules is a constant battle.
🗯️ Jessa Crispin: No more merch.
Your debutante just knows what you need but I know what you want, You’re on the free list for The Rubesletter by Matt Ruby. For bonus content, become a paying subscriber. Check out Matt’s other newsletter: Funny How: Letters to a Young Comedian. Follow Matt elsewhere: Instagram • YouTube • Threads • Twitter • TikTok • Facebook |
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Tuesday, May 21, 2024
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What it's like doing standup in Europe
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What makes a protest anti-semitic?
Tuesday, April 30, 2024
A good test: Say the same thing about black or trans people and see how that goes over. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
We don't know how to forgive
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
No mercy! How our entire society turned into the Cobra Kai. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
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