As a picture painted in yellow always radiates spiritual warmth, or as one in blue has apparently a cooling effect, so green is only boring.
I value those artists who embody the expression of their life.
Only just now awakening after years of materialism, our soul is still infected with the despair born of unbelief, of lack of purpose and aim.
An empty canvas is a living wonder - far lovelier than certain pictures.
In the hierarchy of colors, green represents the social middle class, self-satisfied, immovable, narrow.
The sound of colors is so definite that it would be hard to find anyone who would express bright yellow with bass notes or dark lake with treble.
The artist must have something to say, for mastery over form is not his goal but rather the adapting of form to its inner meaning.
It is essential that the painter should develop not only his eyes, but also his soul, so that it too may be capable of weighing colors in balance.
The force that propels the human spirit on the clear way forward and upward is the abstract spirit.
With cold eyes and indifferent mind the spectators regard the work. Connoissers admire the "skill" (as one admires a tightrope walker), enjoy the "quality of painting" (as one enjoys a pasty). But hungry souls go hungry away. The vulgar herd stroll through the rooms and pronounce the pictures "nice" or "splendid." Those who could speak have said nothing, those who could hear have heard nothing.
Almost without exception, blue refers to the domain of abstraction and immateriality.
Color is the keyboard. The eye is the hammer. The soul is the piano, with its many strings.
Objects damage pictures.
Empty canvas. In appearance - really empty, silent, indifferent. Stunned, almost. In effect - full of tensions, with thousand subdued voices, heavy with expectations. A little frightened because it may be violated
The work of art is born of the artist in a mysterious and secret way. From him it gains life and being. Nor is its existence casual and inconsequent, but it has a definite and purposeful strength, alike in its material and spiritual life.
Every work of art is the child of its age and, in many cases, the mother of our emotions. It follows that each period of culture produces an art of its own which can never be repeated.
Everything that is dead quivers. Not only the things of poetry, stars, moon, wood, flowers, but even a white trouser button glittering out of a puddle in the street... Everything has a secret soul, which is silent more often than it speaks.
Our epoch is a time of tragic collision between matter and spirit and of the downfall of the purely material world view.
Black is like the silence of the body after death, the close of life.
The composition is the organized sum of the interior functions of every part of the work.
In general, therefore, color is a means of exerting a direct influence upon the soul. Color is the keyboard. The eye is the hammer. The soul is the piano with its many strings. The artist is the hand that purposefully sets the soul vibrating by means of this or that key.
Doubts must be resolved alone within the soul. Otherwise one would profane one's own powerful solution.
The artist is the hand that, by touching this or that key, sets the soul vibrating automatically.
The eyes are hammers.
The spirit, like the body, can be strengthened and developed by frequent exercise. Just as the body, if neglected, grows weaker and finally impotent, so the spirit perishes if untended.
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