Quotes About Art

an author should never conceive of himself as bringing into existence beauty or wisdom that did not exist before, but simply and solely as trying to embody in terms of his own art some reflection of eternal Beauty and Wisdom.

A murder victim hung like art? That threw him back and flooded his gut with something akin to nausea, though the feeling faded quickly once he started to examine the crime scene. The man was suspended from a six foot marble statue right of the Troubadours auctioneer's podium, facing a large room with fifty chairs, twenty-five on each side.

Dane glanced again at the piece of art, studying the sculpture with a critical eye. Definitely not his cup of Joe. But then, he wasn't the type to appreciate fine art unless it was done on black velvet and had a picture of dogs playing poker.

Our music's kind of about taking something ugly and making it beautiful.

Flying is an art of absorbing the information from more than one reference, primary and secondary, and then using this information to decide how to manipulate the controls to achieve a desired result. The altimeter is the secondary reference for determining if the nose attitude is correct.

Music, art, theater. I'm just a big fan of beauty.

But shitty human beings sometimes make great art.

Alabama Tenant Farmer Wife, by Walker Evans (version published in Let Us Now Praise Famous Men). From a print in a private collection, trimmed under Evans's direction and signed by him in 1971.

These days, newish art can be priced between $10 000 and $25 000. When I tell artists that a new painting by a newish artist should go for around $1 200, they look at me like I'm a flesh-eating virus.

'Summer of Love: Art of the Psychedelic Era ' the Whitney Museum's 40th-anniversary trip down counterculture memory lane, provides moments of buzzy fun, but it'll leave you only comfortably numb. For starters, it may be the whitest, straightest, most conservative show seen in a New York museum since psychedelia was new.

Robert Rauschenberg was not a giant of American art he was the giant. No American created so many aesthetic openings for so many artists.

First let me report that the art in the Barnes Collection has never looked better. My trips to the old Barnes were always amazing, but except on the sunniest days, you could barely see the art. The building always felt pushed beyond its capacity.

When museums are built these days, architects, directors, and trustees seem most concerned about social space: places to have parties, eat dinner, wine-and-dine donors. Sure, these are important these days - museums have to bring in money - but they gobble up space and push the art itself far away from the entrance.

To engage with art, we have to be willing to be wrong, venture outside our psychic comfort zones, suspend disbelief, and remember that art explores and alters consciousness simultaneously.

The price of a work of art has nothing to do with what the work of art is, can do, or is worth on an existential, alchemical level.

Summer is a great time to visit art museums, which offer the refreshing rinse of swimming pools - only instead of cool water, you immerse yourself in art.

When money and hype recede from the art world, one thing I won't miss will be what curator Francesco Bonami calls the 'Eventocracy.' All this flashy 'art-fair art' and those highly produced space-eating spectacles and installations wow you for a minute until you move on to the next adrenaline event.

Not to say people shouldn't get rich from art. I adore the alchemy wherein artists who cast a complex spell make rich people give them their money. (Just writing it makes me cackle.) But too many artists have been making money without magic.

Too many younger artists, critics, and curators are fetishizing the sixties, transforming the period into a deformed cult, a fantasy religion, a hip brand, and a crippling disease.

I don't know much about auctions. I sometimes go to previews and see art sardined into ugly rooms. I've gawked at the gaudy prices, and gaped at well-clad crowds of happy white people conspicuously spending hundreds of millions of dollars.

In 1998, Artnet was the site that convinced me that if my writing didn't exist online, it didn't exist at all. It showed me criticism's future.

Venice is the perfect place for a phase of art to die. No other city on earth embraces entropy quite like this magical floating mall.

I've always said that an art critic can put aside politics around art.

If the Frieze Art Fair catches on, I imagine at least two great things happening. First, we will once again have a huge art fair in town that isn't too annoying to go to. More importantly, Frieze may finally show New Yorkers that we can cross our own waters for visual culture. That would change everything.