Vir Heroicus Sublimis

So, you're looking at a canvas that's nearly 18 feet wide and wondering if the painter just really, *really* liked the color red. You're not entirely wrong. This colossal sea of crimson is punctuated by five vertical stripes, or "zips," as they were called. The artist's big idea was for you to stand uncomfortably close, letting the massive field of color completely overwhelm your vision. It’s less about looking at a painting and more about having a full-body experience, like meeting a person. The title, *Vir Heroicus Sublimis*, translates from Latin to "Man, Heroic and Sublime." Created in 1950-51, this work was a response to a world reeling from the Great Depression and World War II. The thinking was, if old legends and myths no longer felt sublime, maybe a brand new, all-encompassing art could be. The zips themselves can be seen as figures standing against the vastness of it all—a symbol of the human struggle. This deceptively simple composition is meant to be an encounter. The artist wanted to strip the color red of all its usual associations, forcing you to react to it on a purely instinctual level. When it was first exhibited, critics were not impressed and it didn't sell. Apparently, people weren't quite ready for an 18-foot-wide existential crisis in red. This artwork can be found at Museum of Modern Art.