Instead of causing us to remember the past like the old monuments, the new monuments seem to cause us to forget the future
Museums are tombs, and it looks like everything is turning into a museum.
A work of art when placed in a gallery loses its charge, and becomes a portable object or surface disengaged from the outside world.
One's mind and the earth are in a constant state of erosion, mental rivers wear away abstract banks, brain waves undermine cliffs of thought, ideas decompose into stones of unknowing, and conceptual crystallizations break apart into deposits of gritty reason.
Establish enigmas, not explanations.
Nature does not proceed in a straight line, it is rather a sprawling development.
I am for an art that takes into account the direct effect of the elements as they exist from day to day apart from representation.
Artists themselves are not confined, but their output is.
The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality.
A vacant white room with lights is still a submission to the neutral. Works of art seen in such spaces seem to be going through a kind of esthetic convalescence.
Parks are idealizations of nature, but nature in fact is not a condition of the ideal.
Nature is never finished.
Photographs are the results of a diminution of solar energy, and the camera is an entropic machine for recording gradual loss of light.
One day the photograph is going to become even more important than it is now.... But I am not particularly an advocate of the photograph.
Art's development should be dialectical and not metaphysical.
History is representational, while time is abstract; both of these artifices may be found in museums, where they span everybody's own vacancy
Cultural confinement takes place when a curator imposes his own limits on an art exhibition, rather than asking an artist to set his limits.
Let's face it, the human eye is clumsy, sloppy, and unintelligible when compared to the camera's eye.
History is a facsimile of events held together by finally biographical information.
When a finished work of 20th century sculpture is placed in an 18th century garden, it is absorbed by the ideal representation of the past, thus reinforcing political and social values that are no longer with us
Abstraction is everybody's zero but nobody's nought.
The museum spreads its surfaces everywhere, and becomes an untitled collection of generalizations that mobilize the eye.
Questions about form seem as hopelessly inadequate as questions about content.
Language should find itself in the physical world, and not end up locked in an idea in somebody's head
Painting, sculpture and architecture are finished, but the art habit continues.
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