Apparently, this gallery that I am looking for, that I heard Thom Yorke talk about in an interview, was just an exhibition. It is not a permanent holding at Tate Britain. Don't get me wrong, Tate Britain is great, a beautiful space. But they have not one Rothko there. Not one.
I bought some Rothko postcards and asked the man selling them, Where are these? and he said that they were all over the world and they must have been here for the 'big Rothko show' they had a while back. When was that, I asked. Apparently last year. Why wasn't I called?
Well, so I saw some interesting early Francis Bacon stuff and some rather boring portraits of rich, white people from the 1800's. After I finished looking around, I sat out in the front of the museum, facing the Thames, and waited for the GP to call about my blood test results. While waiting, I read some more Bakhtin and ate a ham sandwich. The GP didn't call, so I headed up Millbank towards Westminster and my phone started ringing. The GP said that there was a problem with my blood test (low iron or something) unrelated to my urinary tract and she ordered more tests for me. She asked how I was feeling and I said, Well, okay, until you told me that I had a low iron problem and now I feel sort of like my iron is low.
I walked up to Westminster, through St. James Park, up to Green Park Station, and then back to Piccadilly Circus. The weather was gorgeous. I fell asleep on the train to work and woke up before Arnos Grove. The walk to school was reposant and now, I have printed everything and am waiting patiently for class to begin.
UPDATED: The exhibition I missed.