Journal · Technique & materials

Does an abstract painting have to mean something?

Abstract painting does not have to carry one fixed meaning to be legitimate. Art history is split: painters like Kandinsky and Rothko insisted their work expressed specific inner or emotional content, while others, like Frank Stella, argued a painting is simply what is seen — no message to decode. Both positions are documented, and both still allow a personal reading.

Genesis of Flame (120 x 200 cm), Heart of Chaos series, by Alyne Perfeito, shown in an interior setting — Perfeito Studio
Genesis of Flame (120 × 200 cm), Heart of Chaos series — mixed media on canvas with acrylic, metallic pigment, and high-gloss and matte finish. Perfeito Studio.

Two real positions in art history: meaning-driven and formalist abstraction

Art history does not agree that abstract painting has to carry one fixed meaning to be legitimate. The disagreement is old and unresolved by design. One camp treats abstraction as a vehicle for specific inner content — spiritual, emotional, or symbolic — that the artist is trying to get across. The other treats it as an object to be seen, not read, with nothing behind the surface that needs decoding.

Tate's own definition of the term captures both possibilities at once: abstract art works through "shapes, colours, forms and gestural marks" rather than realistic depiction, and it has historically been framed through several different, sometimes contradictory theories — as pure aesthetic pattern ("art for art's sake"), as a visual equivalent to music's abstract patterns of sound, or as spiritual representation, since a painting that depicts nothing material is free to stand for something immaterial. None of these framings requires the others to be wrong.

The case for meaning: Kandinsky, Rothko, and “inner necessity”

Wassily Kandinsky, one of the earliest painters to abandon representation entirely, was explicit that abstraction was not an absence of content but a different route to it. In Concerning the Spiritual in Art (1911), he wrote: "All means are sacred when they are dictated by inner necessity. All means are reprehensible when they do not spring from the fountain of inner necessity." For Kandinsky, a shape or a color was only justified on the canvas if it answered a genuine inner impulse — never as decoration, never as habit.

Mark Rothko, working four decades later, made the same argument in blunter terms. Rothko told the writer Selden Rodman: "If you are only moved by color relationships, you are missing the point. I am interested in expressing the big emotions — tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on." Rothko's fields of color were not, in his own account, formal exercises — he considered a purely visual reading of his work a failure to receive what he had put into it.

The case against: Frank Stella and “what you see is what you see”

A different generation of painters rejected the whole premise. Frank Stella, discussing his own geometric paintings in a 1966 interview, put it as plainly as the debate allows: "My painting is based on the fact that only what can be seen there is there... All I want anyone to get out of my paintings, and all I ever get out of them, is the fact that you can see the whole idea without any confusion.... What you see is what you see."

The line became closely associated with Minimalism, a movement that treated the painting or object as a physical fact rather than a symbol pointing beyond itself. Where Kandinsky and Rothko asked the viewer to receive something the artist had put into the work, Stella's position removes that transaction entirely: there is nothing encoded to retrieve, only the thing itself.

So does a painting need a message to be worth looking at?

Both positions are documented, serious, and still argued today — which means the question in the title does not have a single correct answer, and any claim that it does should be treated with suspicion. What follows for a viewer standing in front of an abstract painting is more useful than the debate itself: a work can be built around a specific charge the artist intends to communicate, or it can be built around a formal question with no message attached, and neither case obliges you to identify which one it is before responding to it.

Tate's framing is useful here because it treats these as coexisting theories rather than a contest with a winner — the same abstract painting can be read formally, as pure pattern, or as standing for something beyond depiction, without either reading cancelling the other out.

From the studio

In the studio: some paintings start from a story, some don’t

Heart of Chaos and Matter & Silence come from two different starting points, and I don't pretend otherwise. Genesis of Flame began with a specific charge — creation through destruction, the instant a black field gives way to red — and I built the composition to hold that tension. Silent Interval, in Matter & Silence, began somewhere else entirely: with a single dark line falling through a pale field, and the interest was in the fall itself and the quiet that follows it, not in what it stood for. I don't ask a collector to arrive at "the" meaning in either case. What I can tell them honestly is where a painting started — a specific feeling, or a formal question about weight and interval — and the rest belongs to the room and to whoever lives with it.

Frequently asked

Do all abstract paintings mean something specific?

No — and art history doesn't agree that they should. Some abstract painters, including Wassily Kandinsky, argued that abstraction had to be driven by what he called "inner necessity," a genuine inner impulse rather than decoration. Others, including the American painter Frank Stella, rejected that idea outright, insisting a painting is simply what is visibly there, with nothing further to decode. Both positions are documented in the historical record, so there is no single correct answer to whether a given abstract work carries a fixed message.

Is it okay to enjoy an abstract painting without "getting" its meaning?

Yes. Institutions that specialize in this material, including Tate, describe abstract art as working through shapes, colors, forms, and gestural marks rather than through a hidden picture waiting to be solved. A personal, emotional, or purely visual response is a legitimate way to engage with the work, whether or not the artist had a specific narrative in mind. Understanding an artist's stated intent can add context, but it is not a precondition for a valid response to the painting.

What did Kandinsky mean by "inner necessity"?

In Concerning the Spiritual in Art (1911), Kandinsky argued that an artistic choice is only valid when it comes from a genuine inner impulse rather than convention or decoration: "All means are sacred when they are dictated by inner necessity. All means are reprehensible when they do not spring from the fountain of inner necessity." For Kandinsky, abstraction wasn't a rejection of meaning — it was a route to content he believed representational painting couldn't carry: a spiritual or emotional charge underneath the visible motif.

Did Mark Rothko explain what his paintings were about?

Yes, directly. Rothko told the writer Selden Rodman: "If you are only moved by color relationships, you are missing the point. I am interested in expressing the big emotions — tragedy, ecstasy, doom." He was explicit that his large color fields were not exercises in formal composition — he intended them to carry specific, weighty emotional content, and he considered a purely formal reading of his work a misreading of his intent.

What is formalism in abstract art?

Formalism is the position that a painting's value and meaning lie entirely in its visible, physical qualities — color, shape, surface, scale — with no symbolic content behind them. Frank Stella put the idea bluntly in a 1966 interview: "My painting is based on the fact that only what can be seen there is there... What you see is what you see." This view became closely associated with Minimalism in the 1960s, and it stands in direct opposition to Kandinsky's or Rothko's insistence that abstraction must carry inner or emotional content.

See how a specific charge becomes a painting

Genesis of Flame (Heart of Chaos) started from a specific emotional charge; Silent Interval (Matter & Silence) started from a single gesture and its aftermath. Ask the studio which impulse shaped a particular piece before you decide how to read it.

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