I first began visiting the iconic Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas in 1988 when I was living just around the corner, what is now the park in front of the newly opened Menil Drawing Institute. At the time, I was a curious young college student at University of Houston exploring the convergence of the city’s LGBT community within the Museum District neighborhood. When I first discovered the Chapel, I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it. With its 14 monumental murals created by artist Mark Rothko, distinctive octagonal architecture and Broken Obelisk sculpture dedicated to The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr rising on the Plaza just outside, I knew it was a special place and unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.
Although I had grown up in a strict Southern Baptist household, I lost my spiritual connection to the church when I begin to discover that I openly identified as a gay man. The concept of a religious institution that was open to all was refreshing and seemed to be just what my spiritual life needed. And, the concept of an interfaith chapel that embraced art, spirituality, and human rights seemed to align with many of the key concepts I was struggling with and exploring. Time after time I found myself walking over to the Chapel and begin to learn more about its history and meaning, and meet others who were visiting from the neighborhood, across the country, and around the world.
As the 1980's ended I was becoming more active in the LGBT community. And then, I graduated from University of Houston in 1991. As an out gay young man it was an exciting time but it also quickly became a dark time as HIV emerged as a silent and often deadly killer. I was diagnosed as HIV+ in the mid-90’s, as were many of my friends. And then in rapid succession I lost two, three, four friends to the ravages of AIDS. I would often go to the Chapel when I had nowhere else to go and didn’t know who to talk to or what to say. I found myself comforted by the silence. The enormous canvases of Rothko’s iconic paintings seemed to speak to me and enfold me in their inky depths. Slowly, I begin to find my peace in the Chapel. The ever-changing light pouring in from the skylights revealed subtle nuances, colors, and brushstrokes in Rothko’s paintings. I would often sit silently with others in the chapel and wonder what Rothko meant when he said that he didn’t paint color, but rather tried to paint emotions. What emotions was I experiencing? What were others viewing these monumental works experiencing? Were they sad like me? Were they inspired? Were they communing with a higher power and moved by the sacred space we shared? As I found mental health counseling and a community of HIV healthcare professionals, I also found a deep sense of comfort from my Chapel visits. I would still cry occasionally, but often they were tears of joy and tears of release. I seemed to travel through Rothko’s muted colors around me and ascend to the light above. The silence and the stillness had indeed begun to move me.
Then, in 1996 I began my retail management career, leaving Houston for a job in San Francisco, California. There, I searched for a similar spiritual space and soon found the AIDS Interfaith Memorial Chapel at Grace Cathedral. I began to reflect on my time at the Rothko Chapel and gained a deeper appreciation for the intersection of art and spirituality in an interfaith setting.
After a successful retail career in San Francisco and later in Los Angeles, I returned to Houston in 2006 and eventually started my nonprofit career working to improve lives in under-served communities across Southeast Texas. I felt so blessed to be doing this work and connected with my community in so many deep and meaningful ways. I also felt blessed that I remain healthy and that my HIV is undetectable and my immune system is strong, thanks to advances in HIV medication. During this time, I returned to Rothko Chapel with a renewed sense of appreciation for their mission and programming. In 2014 I began my meditation and mindfulness practice, taking a six-week introductory course through the Chapel at the gentle urging of a dear friend. This was a truly transformative experience as I learned how to calm my mind and explored the concepts of gratitude, empathy, and compassion in the major faith traditions. I began to attend the Chapel’s Twelve Moments series, an opportunity to experience contemplative practice with leaders from Houston’s diverse faith and spiritual traditions. I found so much peace, happiness, and sense of community that I was almost overwhelmed. As I explored other programs, the Chapel’s Annual Interfaith Thanksgiving service became a tradition for me and my family and friends. I have often told Ashley Clemmer, the Chapel’s Director of Programs and Community Engagement, just how much I appreciate all the hard work her and her team put into the Chapel’s programming.
In particular, the Chapel’s observance of World AIDS Day each December 1st has become a special time for me to connect with the community and heal from the losses I experienced in the early years of the epidemic, while allowing me to honor the memory of those lost, and to reflect on my life as a person living with HIV. I was grateful for the opportunity to meet and talk with David Leslie, the Chapel’s Executive Director, after one of these programs. As we stood on the Plaza sipping hot coffee together, I tried to explain to him what the Chapel had meant to me after all these years. How it had woven itself into the fabric of my own spiritual life by providing a safe space for dialogue, prayer, and worship, for people of all faiths — or no faith! I told him how the Chapel has become an important part of my life and I how I’d continued to share this sacred space with family, friends, and colleagues, some days just stopping by to spend time alone, inspired by the art and reflecting on the many years I have been experiencing this simple but powerful space and uniquely Houston institution.
The Rothko Chapel’s mission, “to create opportunities for spiritual growth and dialogue that illuminate our shared humanity and inspire action leading to a world in which all are treated with dignity and respect” resonates with me, my community, and the world of 2020 just as much it did when founders John and Dominique de Menil first opened the Chapel doors in 1971. For more than 40 years, it’s served as a landmark of modern sacred art and a sanctuary for contemplation. And, while the Chapel is closed due to COVID-19 (as of this writing) they are completing Opening Spaces, a vital capital project focused on enriching the Rothko Chapel experience by preserving the Chapel as a unique sacred art site and spiritual place. And so, the Chapel stands poised to continue serving as a global destination for people of all faiths, and a pilgrimage for art lovers and spiritual seekers alike as it looks forward to celebrating its 50th anniversary in 2021. When it reopens, I encourage you to visit Rothko Chapel if you live in Houston, or when you visit our city. You may also want to explore the Chapel’s archives here.
After the recent murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery and the local, national and global activism of the Black Lives Matters movement, the Chapel newsletter shared, “While the summer of 2020 will be remembered for a lot of things, may it be known as a time when people in this country constructively committed to changing perspectives and behaviors resulting in a more equitable and just society for all. An important step along this journey of change is truth-telling. Race, xenophobic hatred, and acts of violence have a powerful legacy and impact across generations especially in Black and POC communities. Genocide, lynching, slavery, red-lining and systemic police brutality (be it 400 years ago or just last week) are unequivocal parts of our nation’s history that weaken our entire society.”
While the Chapel remains indefinitely closed due to COVID-19, they’ve curated a group of some of their past programs including lectures, conversations and performances, entitled “Reflections on Racism, Inequity and Social Justice.” Some of these I’ve attended, but many I haven’t. The last event I attended at the Chapel was on January 15, 2019 for a program that explored the influence of Mahatma Gandhi and nonviolence on Dr. King and his work. As part of my own journey, I’m slowly working my way through watching these videos and I’m sharing in hopes that you, or someone you know, might find these resources helpful too. I know that white silence about race allows racism and white supremacy to be maintained and normalized. I know it’s important for those of us who are white to break white silence and have honest conversations with our friends, family, and neighbors. I’m so grateful to Rothko Chapel for providing a safe space for this type of dialogue, and inspiring me to greater action in both my internal and external life.
I hope my own Chapel story will remind us of our shared humanity and the healing power of art and community. Despite these dark days and uncertain times, I continue to believe that change is possible and that each of us can and must be part of the movement to create a better world. As founder Mrs. Dominique de Menil described it, “The Rothko Chapel is oriented towards the sacred, and yet it imposes no traditional environment. It offers a place where a common orientation could be found — an orientation towards God, named or unnamed, an orientation towards the highest aspirations of Man and the most intimate calls of the conscience.”
