Art Heals: Red

“I advise students on the subject of color as follows: If it looks good enough to eat, use it,” said artist Abe Ajay. Strawberries, summer tomatoes, red peppers.  Yum.  Yes, I know “seeing red” can mean uncontrollable anger, but more often, red has been associated with love, courage, revolution.  Scientists have found that of all colors, red evokes the strongest reaction; thus, warnings, stop signs, the “scarlet letter,” ecclesiastical robes, flags, even wedding garments in other cultures. Red is one of the first colors used by artists—red ochre was used as body paint in the late Stone Age, and Paleolithic cave paintings were done in red, the color easily obtained in nature.  Fun fact:  traces of red ochre were found on a painter’s palette in King Tut’s tomb!   Chinese created vermilion, brought to Europe by Arabs, became popular with Renaissance artists like Titian.  The pigment, known as Chinese red, was as expensive as gold leaf.  It remained the most popular red through the 20th century, but its toxicity and expense encouraged artists to switch to cadmium red.  Nature, hand in hand with artists, evolved many hues—cinnabar, crimson, carmine (from the cochineal insect, Spanish conquistadors taking it from the Aztecs.  Ultimately it was most associated with Rembrandt and Vermeer.  Colonialism and appropriation from the earliest days. 

As a curator, I am sensitive to color, as the red wall in my gallery (even mentioned in The Washington Post) attests. In my personal life, I go with black most of the time, but when asked, I always say my favorite color is red. I’ve often wondered why most people seem to have a “favorite.” An article by R. Douglas Fields Ph.D. in Psychology Today suggests “Color preferences are deeply rooted emotional responses that seem to lack any rational basis.” “But is ...color preference hard-wired by evolution or learned? Interestingly, the researchers found that Japanese color preferences were different from American preferences, suggesting a cultural influence on color preference.” Choice of color can be seen as an aggressive act, wearing all black is sometimes interpreted as sinister, the choice of a rebel (black motorcycle jackets being an emblem of “rebel cool” in American culture). Others see it as simply chic (the famous “black uniform” of New York women). It can also be practical, as is mentioned in a book, “Life Among the Poor in Cairo.” Women of all classes living in the same Cairo neighborhood chose to wear black garments (sometimes covering a more colorful one underneath). This made it possible to “level the playing field” of fashion, as cheaper materials can be perceived to be similar to expensive fabrics, at least from a distance. Me, I see both black and red as neutrals, providing background to the statement I wish to make, both in my personal choices and as a curator. I’ve had the red wall for many years now. Originally, I painted it to showcase a particular set of paintings about the Arab Spring. Since then, every painting I have installed there looks as if it were made for the wall. (Admission: I’ve unearthed my old school textbooks on color theory just to be sure.) But in many ways, the background becomes the foreground, in art and in life.  We all make choices in how to present ourselves to the world, whether in clothing or in art. Color provides non-verbal cues to our emotions, or sense of self, and the messages we wish to impart.  So, if black is your happy place, good for you. And if you choose to splatter rainbow hues like Jackson Pollack, hurrah. The philosopher Marshal McLuhan (anyone remember him?) famously said, “The medium is the message.” Art Heals.

This is Zahi Khamis’s Forbidden on the red wall.