Quotes About Artist

No artist has painted A true portrait of Lenin Ages to come will complete Lenin's unfinished portrait. Did Poletaev understand the tragic implication of his lines about Lenin?

No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything.

From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type.

Emphasizing the body as art, these artists amplified the role of process over product and shifted from representation objects to presentational modes of action.

Art is sacred. Punk rock is freedom. Expression and right to express is vital. Anyone can be artistic.

Skathis might have been an artist, but he'd been a vile one. Strange the dreamer was an artist, too, and he was the antidote to vile.

Strange the dreamer was an artist, too, and he was the antidote to vile.

Why all these paintings of you? Because I'm an artist, Emma. These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.

You are just jealous," Magnus remarked calmly. "Because you do not have the soul of a true artiste like myself." "Oh, I am positively green with envy," Ragnor snapped. "Come now, Ragnor. That's not fair," said Magnus. "You know I love it when you make jokes about your complexion.

Very well, you do so love rules! I shall make some up for you on the spot, so that my little moppet is not forced to wander the world in a soup of stories without laws. A tale may have exactly three beginnings: one for the audience, one for the artist, and one for the poor bastard who has to live in it.

An artist will betray himself by some sort of sincerity.

At times, she feels discomfort over matters she knows nothing about, and Magsalin hears rising up in her that quaver that readers have, as if the artist should be holding her hand as she is walked through the story. But she rides the wave, she checks herself. A reader does not need to know everything

In the best of all possible worlds, art would be unnecessary. Its offer of restorative, placative therapy would go begging a patient. The professional specialization involved in its making would be presumption. The generalities of its applicability would be an affront. The audience would be the artist and their life would be art.

The intensity of that gaze never unnerved her. He was Marc Chagall, and he looked at her neither as man nor father but as an artist in the throes of creation. It

There is no such thing as amateur art... You never yet made an artist by paying him well.

Behind unfinished art cries an unfinished artist.

Soul colors the artist so that the artist can color the canvas.

There is no one who does not exaggerate. In conversation, men are encumbered with personality, and talk too much. In modern sculpture, picture, and poetry, the beauty is miscellaneous; the artist works here and there, and at all points, adding and adding, instead of unfolding the unit of his thought.

Hay un éxtasis que señala la cúspide de la vida y por encima del cual no puede elevarse esta. Y lo paradójico de la vida es que este éxtasis cuando uno esta más vivo y se olvida absolutamente de que lo está. Este éxtasis, este olvido de la existencia, se produce en el artista, atrapándolo y sacándolo de si en una llama de pasión; se produce en el soldado, ebrio de guerra en un campo desolado cuando lucha sin cuartel

But the man dreaming greatly and pressed by sordid necessity, he is the man who must confront the absolute contradiction. He is the man who cannot pour his artist-soul into his work and exchange that work for bread and meat. The world is strangely and coldly averse to his exchanging the joy of his heart for the solace of his stomach. And to him is it given to discover that what the world prizes most it demands least, and that what it clamors the loudest after it does not prize at all.

A man becomes creative, whether he is an artist or a scientist, when he finds a new unity in the variety of nature. He does so by finding a likeness between things which were not thought alike before, and this gives him a sense at the same time of richness and of understanding. The creative mind is a mind that looks for unexpected likenesses.

Genius requires an audience. For all his cleverness, Delaunay was an artist and as vulnerable as any of his kind to the desire to vaunt his brilliance. And there were few, very few, people capable of appreciating his art. I did not know, then, how deep-laid a game they played with each other, nor what part in it I was to play. All I knew was that she was the audience he chose.

I am no longer an artist interested and anxious. I am a messenger who will bring back word from the men who are fighting to those who want the war to go on forever. Feeble, inarticulate, will be my message, but it will have a bitter truth, and may it burn in their lousy souls. —Paul Nash, Artist 1899–1946 Paul Nash served with the Artists' Rifles and the Royal Hampshire Regiment in the Great War.

In this new era, you have two choices: become a temp staffer (not a horrible choice) or become an artist-entrepreneur.