Read through the most famous quotes by topic #picasso
ما من رسام آخر تمتع بذيوع الصيت هذا بين مثل هذا العدد الكبير من الناس. إن التفسير التقني لذلك إنما يكمن في وسائط الإعلام الجماهيرية. فما أن يتم انتقاء شخص ما. لسبب أو لآخر، حتى تقوم هذه الوسائط بمضاعفة جمهوره من الألوف إلى الملايين. وفي حالة بيكاسو، عمل هذا التحول على تغيير ثقل شهرته. فهي ليست كشهرة ميليه في فرنسا أو ميليز في إنجلترا قبل ثمانين عاماً. فقد اشتهر هذان لأن لوحتين أو ثلاثًا من أعمالهما نالت حظوة سريعة لدى الجمهور، فاستنسخت عنها الصور وزينت بها ملايين البيوت. إن عنواني اللوحتين كرز الناضخ والملاك كانا أكثر ذيوعًا من اسم الرسام. أما إذا نظرنا إلى الموضوع على صعيد عالمي اليوم فإننا لا نجد أكثر من واحد في المئة ممن يعرفون اسم بيكاسو يستطيع أن يميز لوحة واحدة من لوحاته. ↗
I paint the way some people write their autobiography. The paintings, finished or not, are the pages of my journal, and as such they are valid. The future will choose the pages it prefers. It's not up to me to make the choice. I have the impression that the time is speading on past me more and more rapidly. I'm like a river that rolls on, dragging with it the trees that grow too close to its banks or dead calves one might have thrown into it or any kind of microbes that develop in it. I carry all that along with me and go on. It's the movement of painting that interests me, the dramatic movement from one effort to the next, even if those efforts are perhaps not pushed to their ultimate end. In some of my paintings I can say with certainty that the effort has been brought to its full weight and its conclusion, because there I have been able to stop the flow of time around me. I have less and less time, and yet I have more and more to say, and what I have to say is,increasingly, something about what goes on in the movement of my thought. I've reached the moment, you see, when the movement of my thought interests me more than the thought itself. ↗
People in coats and ties were milling around the Talley gallery, and on the wall were the minimally rendered still lifes by Giorgio Morandi, most of them no bigger than a tea tray. Their thin browns, ashy grays, and muted blues made people speak softly to one another, as if a shouted word might curdle one of the paintings and ruin it. Bottles, carafes, and ceramic whatnots sat in his paintings like small animals huddling for warmth, and these shy pictures could easily hang next to a Picasso or Matisse without feeling inferior. ↗
Everybody has the same energy potential. The average person wastes his in a dozen little ways. I bring mine to bear on one thing only: my paintings, and everything else is sacrificed to it...myself included. ↗