Duncan Phillips

I found my rainbows end. Whether I stumbled upon it a third of the way into life or yesterday, my footsteps carried me, desire led me. Gently moving doors of glass proffered a glimpse of the treasure waiting for me inside. Mine did not take the shape expected, no round or oval object, no golden pot or kettle. Mine was a room, a perfect room of perfect proportions – a room of Rothko’s. Rainbows are unpredictable by nature, some guide us forward while others direct us left or right. Of course all of this is dependent upon where we are standing at the time. I happened to be standing at the Dupont metro station; early autumn hues led me up Massachusetts and 21st and into the Phillips Gallery. I had been meaning to come here for years, Duncan Phillips, the museums founder, is perhaps my favorite collector, choosing works that I would choose for myself, had I been born at the right time with the right resources. Unlike so many collectors who view art as an investment, Phillips saw art as life, as history, as expression....Duncan Phillips believed in the art of creating, he lived for it, as do I.
The room - intensely saturated with color. It felt deeply intimate. Alone I sat, in the center of the room, on a bench placed there as an afterthought, at the suggestion of Rothko himself. I am alone in this part of the museum, hearing only the faint sound of footsteps in the distance. The Rothko’s are mine. My heart is full.