I don't go to see much art, but Rothko lived in Portland and then his pictures came back years later, so it seemed a good fit.
We all know him because of where he ended up, but it was wonderful to see how he got there.
The exhibition went from a self-portrait, recognizably human apart from some blue-bleeding eyes, to the more familiar stuff, those giant squares of colour. Over the years you could see it all fall apart: from street scenes and people to blur and shapes to just colour.
And in the end from canvases that make you think of ice cream and parties and sunshine to just black.
There was a quote from him on one of the walls, that we could all learn from.
The progression of a painter's work as it travels in time from point to point, will be toward clarity.. toward the elimination of all obstacles between the painter and the idea.. and the idea and the observer.. To achieve this clarity is inevitably to be understood.