Quotes About Art

He said, it's rather like your voice. You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts. It's what distinguishes all great art from the other kind.

Urasc oamenii de stiinta care colectioneaza lucruri si le clasifica si le dau nume,ca apoi sa uite cu totul de ele.La fel se intampla si in arta.Eticheteaza un pictor drept impresionist sau cubist sau altceva si il pun intr-un anume sertar si nu se mai gandesc la ca la o fiinta umana care picteaza

He said, one has to learn that painting well - in the academic and technical sense - comes right at the bottom of the list. I mean, you've got that ability. So have thousands.

You despise the real bourgeois classes for all their snobbishness and their snobbish voices and ways. You do, don't you? Yet all you put in their place is a horrid little refusal to have nasty thoughts or do nasty things or be nasty in any way. Do you know that every great thing in the story of art and every beautiful thing in life is actually what you call nasty or has been caused by feelings that you would call nasty? By passion, by love, by hatred, by truth. Do you know that?

Ogni epoca, ogni epoca colpevole, erige alte mura intorno alle sue Versailles; e io personalmente le odio ancora di più quando vengono costruite dalla letteratura e dall'arte.

Talking about acting is like boasting about pictures you're going to paint. The most terrible bad form.

Do you know that every great thing in the history of art and every beautiful thing in life is actually what you call nasty or has been caused by feelings that you would call nasty? By passion, by love, by hatred, by truth.

Each age, each guilty age, builds high walls round its Versailles; and personally I hate those walls most when they are made by literature and art.

Russia itself having turned to socialist realism - no-man's-land between surrealism and communism,...

Their fear of the open and of the naked. Hide reality, shut out nature. The revolutionary art movement of Charles's day was of course the Pre-Raphaelite. They, at least, were making an attempt to admit nature and sexuality.

They're teaching you to express personality at the Slade – personality in general. But however good you get at translating personality into line or paint it's no go if your personality isn't worth translating. It

He got up and said, I think you've got something in you. I don't know. Women very rarely have. I mean most women just want to be good at something, they've got good-at minds, and they mean deftness and a flair and good taste and what-not. They can't ever understand that if your desire is to go to the furthest limits of yourself then the actual form your art takes doesn't seem important to you. Whether

it's rather like your voice. You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts. It's what distinguishes all great art from the other kind. The technically accomplished buggers are two a penny in any period. Especially in this great age of universal education. He

I remember later he said (Professor Higgins again), you don't really stand a dog's chance anyhow. You're too pretty. The art of love's your line: not the love of art.

Cel care creeaz? nu-l poate iubi pe cel care critic?. Exist? o diferen?? prea mare între cele dou? activit??i. Una este naÈ™tere, cealalt? chirurgie.

I know what I am to him. A butterfly he has always wanted to catch. I remember (the very fisrt time i met him) G.P. saying that collectors were the worst animals of all. He meant art collectors, of course. I didn't really understand, I thought he was just trying to shock Caroline - and me. But of course, he is right. They're anti-life, anti-art, anti-everything.

There was no art in cultures as ancient as the Egyptian and the Minoan. Conscious art did not exist for them. They wanted only to control. That is how they would want us to judge them - by how well they controlled

He stood before the famous Rembrandt self portrait. The sad, proud old man stared eternally out of his canvas, out of the entire knowledge of his own genius and of the inadequacy of genius before human reality.

PoÅ£i s? ascunzi o crim? folosind cuvinte. Dar pictura este ca o fereastr? cu vedere direct? pân? în str?fundul inimii tale. Tu nu ai f?cut aici decât s? construieÅŸti o mulÅ£ime de ferestruici spre o inim? plin? de tablourile altor pictori la mod?.

Totul s-a întâmplat din cauza muzicii. VariaÈ›iunile Goldberg. Spre fârÈ™it, una din ele, foarte lent?. foarte simpl?, foarte trist?, a fost atât de frumoas?, încât nici cuvintele, nici desenul, nici chiar altceva nu o pot descrie, ci numai muzica. Frumoas? în lumina lunii. Muzica lunii, atât de argintie, atât de îndep?rtat?, atât de nobil?.

Güzel resim yapma bilgisi, akademik ve teknik anlamda, bir ressamda aranan niteliklerin sonuncusudur.

I know what I am to him. A butterfly he has always wanted to catch. I remember (the very first time I met him) G.P. saying that collectors were the worst animals of all. He meant art collectors, of course. I didn't really understand, I thought he was just trying to shock Caroline - and me. But of course, he is right. They're anti-life, anti-art, anti-everything.

In a happy world, there would be no art. I retreat too often into my imagination. In a happy world, the experience of reality would be enough.

In the bottom right-hand corner was a decent-sized color photo of Mr. and Mrs. Carl Trudeau posing with their new acquisition. Brianna, ever photogenic, as she damned well be, emanated glamour. Carl looked rich, thin, and young, he thought, and Imelda was as baffling in print as she was in person. Was she really a work of art? Or was she just a hodgepodge of bronze and cement thrown together by some confused soul working hard to appear tortured?