The model for me is a touchstone, it is a door which I must break open in order to reach the garden in which I am alone and feel good, even the model exists only for what use I can make of it.
The living model, the naked body of a woman, is the privileged seat of feeling, but also of questioning... The model must mark you, awaken in you an emotion which you seek in turn to express.
What matters most to me? To work with my model until I have it enough in me to be able to improvise, to let my hand run free.
If my story were ever to be written truthfully from start to finish, it would amaze everyone.
Instinct must be thwarted just as one prunes the branches of a tree so that it will grow better.
I dream of an art of balance, of quietness, something analogous to a good armchair.
The sign for which I forge an image has no value if it doesn't harmonize with other signs, which I must determine in the course of my invention and which are completely peculiar to it.
The artist begins with a vision - a creative operation requiring an effort.
The sign is determined at the moment I use it and for the object of which it must form a part. For this reason I cannot determine in advance signs which never change, and which would be like writing: that would paralyze the freedom of my invention.
Time extracts various values from a painter's work. When these values are exhausted the pictures are forgotten, and the more a picture has to give, the greater it is.
Hatred, rancor, and the spirit of vengeance are useless baggage to the artist. His road is difficult enough for him to cleanse his soul of everything which could make it more so.
Each work of art is a collection of signs invented during the picture's execution to suit the needs of their position. Taken out of the composition for which they were created, these signs have no further use.
Truly, I'm not joking when I thank my lucky stars for the awful operation I had, since it has made me young again and philosophical which means that I don't want to fritter away the new lease on life I've been given.
A work should contain its total meaning within itself and should impress it on the spectator before he even knows the subject.
Expression for me does not reside in passions glowing in a human face or manifested by violent movement. The entire arrangement of my picture is expressive; the place occupied by my figures, the empty space around them, the proportions, everything has its share.
I have been no more than a medium, as it were.
I shan't get free of my emotion by copying the tree faithfully, or by drawing its leaves one by one in the common language, but only after identifying myself with it.
A certain color tones you up. It's the concentration of timbres.
Expression is not a matter of passion mirrored on the human face or revealed by a violent gesture. When I paint a picture, its every detail is expressive.
Arrival = Prison, and the artist must never be a prisoner.
The use of expressive colors is felt to be one of the basic elements of the modern mentality, an historical necessity, beyond choice.
There are wonderful things in Jazz, the improvisation, the liveliness, the being at one with the audience.
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