Quotes About Chiaroscuro

People are composed of many things, and in my work, what influences me is the complexity of people - the chiaroscuro of dark and light. When I play a strong guy, I try to find, where is he weak? And, conversely, when I play a weak guy, where is he strong?

The rat called Chiaroscuro did not look away. He let the light from the upstairs world enter him and fill him. He gasped aloud with the wonder of it.

Our secrets are our greatest possessions. We store them like pocket treasures, reassured by their weight, their heft, and the knowledge that though they may be smoothed by time, they bear the same stories, the same unrelenting hold, the timeless chiaroscuro they were born in. I had no knowledge of how they might alter with exposure to light.

They may have heard that Rembrandt was famous for his chiaroscuro...so they nod wisely when they see a Rembrandt, mumble 'wonderful chiaroscuro,' and wander onto the next picture. I want to be quite frank about this danger of half-knowledge and snobbery, for we are all apt to succumb to such temptation.

And something else, of course; there's always more, deep in art's pockets, far down in the chiaroscuro on which these foodstuffs rest: everything here has been transformed into feeling, as if by looking very hard at an object it suddenly comes that much closer to some realm where it isn't a thing at all but something just on the edge of dissolving. Into what? Tears, gladness—you've felt like this before, haven't you? Taken far inside.

Our mind is the canvas on which the artists lay their colour; their pigments are our emotions; their chiaroscuro the light of joy, the shadow of sadness. The masterpiece is of ourselves, as we are of the masterpiece.

As the track bends north-east, the ethereal sandstone disappears. The slopes turn black with granite, and the mountain's lower ridges break into unstable spikes and revetments. Their ribs are slashed in chiaroscuro, and their last outcrops pour towards the valley in the fluid, anthropomorphic shapes that pilgrims love. The spine and haunches of a massive stone beast, gazing at Kailas, are hailed as the Nandi bull, holy to Shiva; another rock has become the votive cake of Padmasambhava.

Chiaroscuro is also the technique of the uncanny. I am etched with unknowing as I continue. I have crossed into a material reserve that permits a maximum of intuition, the "as if " of a speculative thinking, which is outside of knowledge. Reading shows the wrongness of the habitual reification of "the social" and "the personal" in a binary system of values. It submits this binary to a ruinous foundering. And so, an erotics.