I feel shame, not for the wrong things I have done, but for the right things that I have failed to do.
I have drawn people's attention to the fact that art is a mirage. A mirage, just like the oasis that appears in the desert. It is very beautiful, until the moment when you die of thirst, obviously. But we do not die of thirst in the field of art. The mirage has substance.
While all artists are not chess players, all chess players are artists.
The individual, man as a man, man as a brain, if you like, interests me more than what he makes, because I've noticed that most artists only repeat themselves.
The most interesting thing about artists is how they live
Society takes what it wants. The artist himself does not count, because there is no actual existence for the work of art. The work of art is always based on the two poles of the onlooker and the maker, and the spark that comes from the bipolar action gives birth to something - like electricity. But the onlooker has the last word, and it is always posterity that makes the masterpiece. The artist should not concern himself with this, because it has nothing to do with him.
What I have in mind is that art may be bad, good or indifferent, but, whatever adjective is used, we must call it art, and bad art is still art in the same way that a bad emotion is still an emotion.
If a shadow is a two-dimensional projection of the three-dimensional world, then the three-dimensional world as we know it is the projection of the four-dimensional Universe.
I consider painting as a means of expression, not as a goal.
To all appearances the artist acts like a mediumistic being who, from the labyrinth beyond time and space, seeks his way out to a clearing. If we give the attributes of a medium to the artist, we must then deny him the state of consciousness on the aesthetic plane about what he is doing or why he is doing it. All this decisions in the artistic execution of the work rest with pure intuition and cannot be translated into a self-analysis, spoken or written, or even thought out.
I was interested in ideas, not merely visual products. I wanted to put painting once again at the service of the mind.
I believe that a picture, a work of art, lives and dies just as we do.
Aesthetic delectation is the danger to be avoided.
In my day artists wanted to be outcasts, pariahs. Now they are all integrated into society
Do unto others as they wish, but with imagination.
There is no solution, for there is no problem.
It's true, of course, humor is very important in my life, as you know. That's the only reason for living, in fact.
It is the spectators who make the pictures.
This concern which interests us more than anything else: the blurring of the distinction between art and life.
Art has absolutely no existence as veracity, as truth.
I like living, breathing better than working...my art is that of living. Each second, each breath is a work which is inscribed nowhere, which is neither visual nor cerebral, it's a sort of constant euphoria.
Living is more a question of what one spends than what one makes.
The life of an artist is like the life of a monk, a lewd monk if you like, very Rabelaisian. It is an ordination.
I've decided that art is a habit-forming drug. That's all it is, for the artist, for the collector, for anybody connected with it.
Since a three-dimensional object casts a two-dimensional shadow, we should be able to imagine the unknown four-dimensional object whose shadow we are. I for my part am fascinated by the search for a one-dimensional object that casts no shadow at all.
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