CONTRADICTION IN TERMS

Silence is so accurate.

 
Wisdom Wherever You Find It
 
“Silence is so accurate.”   Mark Rothko
 
I recognize that absurdity of writing a lot of words about this quotation. Perhaps as a compromise, if you ordinarily read my columns aloud, you will only move your lips this time.
 
Mark Rothko was, of course, the abstract painter with the signature style. As he transitioned from more “traditional” representations in his art into the use of juxtaposed color, he transitioned away from titling his paintings. By the 1950s and until his death in 1970, his paintings had only numbers. When asked why he stopped giving his works titles, he responded with the words above: Silence is so accurate.
 
You might find that observation profound or you might find it a cheat for someone who just got lazy. But I aggressively take it out of context.
 
We live in a society that demands words. At the same time, we treat words the way that Lewis Carroll satirized them, suggesting that each one means exactly what we intend it to mean. The fungibility of that meaning can render words insignificant – ironically, the exact opposite of what we set out to do with them. Or, in a universe of discourse that assigns authority to every listener and not only to the speaker, words wind up creating confusion rather than clarity.
 
For example, I have an acquaintance who refuses to utter the words “I’m sorry.” This person will readily admit to having made mistakes, often with a much more profane phrase, and if challenged on the actions in question will acknowledge that they were wrong. Yet, faced with the challenge actually to apologize, the individual will insist that “it’s covered” by the acknowledgment of culpability.
 
For another example, not so long ago, I challenged a college student on the use of the word “genocide.” (You can guess the context.) I said, “That word has a specific meaning, and to use it inaccurately belittles the crime and diminishes the actual victims.” The student responded, “The meanings of words change.”
 
And for a third example, one that is very different, is the challenge of consoling someone who is bereaved. Afraid to say nothing, we sometimes insist there is nothing to say. Well, there is indeed always something (appropriate) that could be said, but if there is indeed nothing to say, then silence is so accurate.
 
Here is what is true: when an artist titles a work, they create it twice – once, the work itself (painting, poem, or composition) and the second time, the title they choose. Words wind up being an obstacle to experience if the work is to speak for itself. A confident artist like Mark Rothko will allow the original piece to speak for itself. That is not to disparage the artist who titles a work as a means of communicating inspiration or intention. Rather, Rothko’s silence communicates his intention that his title is accurate, and very much in the eye of the beholder.
 
Does all of this make sense? Maybe, maybe not. But after some five hundred words, I think I will take my own advice and stop making words. After all, silence is so accurate.