Quotes About Art

The characteristics of the region as an art center — geographically remote, overly conscious of regional identity, and desiring not to be another commonsense Midwest or an appendage of New York or California culture — predisposed local artists to domination by the first individual personalities to manifest both independence and exoticism.

Assemblage is the first home-grown California modern art.

For once in California there was an integration of art with avant-garde literature and music.

An argument for the existence of a regionalist art that is fully capable of international acceptance, that is fully capable of operating outside the lineal leapfrog of Europe-to-New-York styles, and yet of adding to them.

Two currents of West Coast art . . . the 'dirties' and the 'cleans'.

The idea that one man's unique personal vision is greater than the importance of fashions in art or mainstream type philosophy.

Kauffman was the first Southern California artist ever to paint an original painting.

Easygoing, nonmilitant Pop, as at home in Southern California as was Impressionism on the banks of the Seine.

In such paces — the Vancouvers, San Diegos, Portlands, Seattles, and, yes, San Franciscos and Los Angeleses — can we hope for anything more than jazzed-up melding of New York styles or self-conscious lampoons that aspire to kift the curse of provincialism?

one half of his face drooping lower than the other, as if it had melted like a Dalí watch.

Art is long, life is short', goes the old adage, and arranging a limited number of paintings to represent the numerous developments and styles of Western art is by all standards a Herculean task.

children]can thus learn the art of loving and know truly that when they think a thought they release a tremendous power or force in space.

We need to keep in mind the distinction between realism and reality. To confuse the two is to lose sight of the difference between art and life.

The desire to replicate the—or a—viewer's view is realism's reason for being.

With the plundered people transferring their energies into relaxed and receptive thoughts, degradation and lust for power produced art.

Gold, silver, jewels, purple garments, houses built of marble, groomed estates, pious paintings, caparisoned steeds, and other things of this kind offer a mutable and superficial pleasure; books give delight to the very marrow of one's bones. They speak to us, consult with us, and join with us in a living and intense intimacy.

What legendary travelers have taught us since Pausanius and Marco Polo is that the art of travel is the art of seeing what is sacred.

For those of us fascinated with the spiritual quest, the deepening of our journeys begins the moment we begin to ask what is sacred to us: architecture, history, music, books, nature, food, religious heritage, family history, the lives of saints, scholars, heroes, artists?

Life is short, he thought. Art, or something not life, is long, stretching out endless, like concrete worm. Flat, white, unsmoothed by any passage over or across it. Here I stand. But no longer.

Life is short, he thought. Art, or something not life, is long, stretching out endless, like concrete worm. Flat, white, unsmoothed by any passage over or across it. Here I stand. But no longer. Taking the small box, he put the Edfrank jewellery piece away in his coat pocket.

This rehearsal will end, the performance will end, the singers will die, eventually the last score of music will be destroyed in one wya or another; finally the name Mozart will vanish, the dust will have won. If not on this planet then another. We can evade it awhile.

Life is short, he thought. Art, or something not life, is long, stretching out endless, like concrete worm. Flat, white, unsmoothed by any passage over or across it. Here I stand.

We didn't have sense enough to take care of it. Now it's torn. And the artist is dead.

cuando se crea algo, adquiere vida propia y deja de pertenecer al creador que la ha moldeado y dirigido según sus deseos.