Paul Klee Quotes

One eye sees, the other feels.

A single day is enough to make us a little larger or, another time, a little smaller.

A line is a dot that went for a walk.

Art does not reproduce what we see. It makes us see.

Art does not reproduce the visible; it makes visible.

Color has got me. I no longer need to chase after it. It has got me for ever. I know it. That is the meaning of this happy hour.

One day I will lie nowhere with an angel at my side.

Art does not reproduce what is visible, it makes things visible.

Colour and I are one.

Becoming is superior to being.

It is the artistic mission to penetrate as far as may be toward that secret ground where primal law feeds growth.

After all, it's rather difficult to achieve the exact minimum, and it involves risks.

You talked about Nietzsche and his tertiary syphilis. Mozart and his uremia. Paul Klee and the scleroderma that shrank his joints and muscles to death. Frida Kahlo and the spina bifida that covered her legs with bleeding sores. Lord Byron and his clubfoot. The Brontë sisters and their tuberculosis. Mark Rothko and his suicide. Flannery O'Connor and her lupus. Inspiration needs disease, injury, madness.

You said how Michelangelo was a manic-depressive who portrayed himself as a flayed martyr in his painting. Henri Matisse gave up being a lawyer because of appendicitis. Robert Schumann only began composing after his right hand became paralyzed and ended his career as a concert pianist. (...) You talked about Nietzsche and his tertiary syphilis. Mozart and his uremia. Paul Klee and the scleroderma that shrank his joints and muscles to death. Frida Kahlo and the spina bifida that covered her legs with bleeding sores. Lord Byron and his clubfoot. The Bronte sisters and their tuberculosis. Mark Rothko and his suicide. Flannery O’Connor and her lupus. Inspiration needs disease, injury, madness. “According to Thomas Mann,” Peter said, “‘Great artists are great invalids.

Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible.

Art should be like a holiday: something to give a man the opportunity to see things differently and to change his point of view.

Art does not reproduce the visible rather, it makes visible.

mistikus pernah berkata begini pada seluruh patung yang tak bisa diraba: ‘di kehidupan sebenarnya, sesuatu yang kau torehkan ini hanyalah fana!’ tapi makhluk imajiner apa yang merangkak dan memiliki tempat-tempat luas seakan sabana Afrika telah muntah garingnya demi menangkup ia yang tak berjenis apa-apa. ia yang dinomori sebagai sang satu. yang penuh totem warna-warni di sekujur dagingnya. menebarkan piuh dingin yang amis dan luka terjerat kekosongan tanda sebelum bukit pasir menghisap tubuhnya atau warna pasir yang menggerus tubuhnya?

Art does not render what is visible, but renders visible.

I cannot be grasped in the here and now. For my dwelling place is as much among the dead as the yet unborn. Slightly closer to the heart of creation than usual. But not nearly close enough.

ditembakkan dari pelir barracuda yang lolos api, tubuhnya penuh runcing seperti penggaris 16 centi ke atas terus ke atas melewati loronglorong rusak yang pengap akan tetesan air amis. terbuka menganga, lurus terus maju tanpa mundur memasuki sorga yang hilang di Bermuda kecil warna-warni logo bungabungaan yang diracuni bensin dan mungkin sundutan rokok tengik. owalah...rambutrambut keriting siapa ini disepahkan mulut lebar ikan lonte di danau sebelah utara?

Staring at a blank piece of paper, I can't think of anything original. I feel utterly uninspired and unreceptive. It's the familiar malaise of 'artist's block' and in such circumstances there is only one thing to do: just start drawing. The artist Paul Klee refers to this simple act as 'taking a line for a walk', an apt description of my own basic practice: allowing the tip of a pencil to wander through the landscape of a sketchbook, motivated by a vague impulse but hoping to find something much more interesting along the way. Strokes, hooks, squiggles and loops can resolve into hills, faces, animals, machines -even abstract feelings- the meanings of which are often secondary to the simple act of making (something young children know intuitively). Images are not preconceived and then drawn, they are conceived as they are drawn. Indeed, drawing is its own form of thinking, in the same way birdsong is 'thought about' within a bird's throat.

I imagined face and genitals to be the corresponding poles of the female sex, when girls wept I thought of pudenda weeping in unison.

Kunst gibt nicht das Sichtbare wieder, sondern Kunst macht sichtbar.

I’ve discovered my deepest source of inspiration, which is art: the art of the primitives like Henri Rousseau, Gauguin, Paul Klee, and De Chirico.

Paul Klee, who may be regarded as the poet among modern painters, says: “It is the artist’s mission to penetrate as far as may be toward that secret ground where primal law feeds growth.

After a noticeable silence, he'd recently published a book of technically baffling poems, with line breaks so arbitrary and frequent as to be useless, arrhythmic. On the page they look like some of Charles Bukowski's skinny, chatty, muttering-stuttering antiverses. Impossibly, Mark's words make music, the faraway strains of an irresistible jazz. It's plain to any reader, within a few lines—well, go read the poems and see, Marcus Ahearn traffics with the ineffable. He makes the mind of the speaker present, in that here-and-now where the reader actually reads—that place. Such a rare thing. Samuel Beckett. Jean Follain, Ionesco—the composer Billy Strayhorn. Mark calls his process "psychic improvisation" and referred me to the painter Paul Klee; the term was Klee's. "You just get out a pen and a notebook and let your mind go long," he told me.

The artist does not ascribe to the natural form of appearance the same convincing significance as the realists who are his critics. He does not feel so intimately bound to that reality, because he cannot see in the formal products of nature the essence of the creative process. He is more concerned with formative powers than with formal products.

My self… is a dramatic ensemble. Here a prophetic ancestor makes his appearance. Here a brutal hero shouts. Here an alcoholic bon vivant argues with a learned professor. Here a lyric muse, chronically love-struck, raises her eyes to heaven. Here papa steps forward, uttering pedantic protests. Here the indulgent uncle intercedes. Here the aunt babbles gossip. Here the maid giggles lasciviously. And I look upon it all with amazement, the sharpened pen in my hand. A pregnant mother wants to join the fun. ‘Pshtt!’ I cry, ‘You don’t belong here. You are divisible.’ And she fades out.

To emphasize only the beautiful seems to me to be like a mathematical system that only concerns itself with positive numbers.

You adapt yourself, Paul Klee said, to the contents of the paintbox. Adapting yourself to the contents of the paintbox, he said, is more important than nature and its study. The painter, in other words, does not fit the paints to the world. He most certainly does not fit the world to himself. He fits himself to the paint. The self is the servant who bears the paintbox and its inherited contents.

Artists who shared (Paul) Klee's fundamental beliefs, such as (Piet) Mondrian, were searching for universal truths, often derived from nature and having "all-mighty power." For some, a traditional notion of God was part of this; for others, it was of no consequence. What mattered was not the precise character of the object of worship, but the shared belief in its superiority to the cult of self. (104)

C’è un quadro di Klee che s’intitola Angelus Novus. Vi si trova un angelo che sembra in atto di allontanarsi da qualcosa su cui fissa lo sguardo. Ha gli occhi spalancati, la bocca aperta, le ali distese. L'angelo della storia deve avere questo aspetto. Ha il viso rivolto al passato. Dove ci appare una catena di eventi, egli vede una sola catastrofe, che accumula senza tregua rovine su rovine e le rovescia ai suoi piedi. Egli vorrebbe ben trattenersi, destare i morti e ricomporre l’infranto. Ma una tempesta spira dal paradiso, che si è impigliata nelle sue ali, ed è così forte che egli non può più chiuderle. Questa tempesta lo spinge irresistibilmente nel futuro, a cui volge le spalle, mentre il cumulo delle rovine sale davanti a lui al cielo. Ciò che chiamiamo il progresso, è questa tempesta.

If there is a modern age, it is, of course, the age of the cosmic. Paul Klee declared himself anti-Faustian. "As for animals and all other creatures, I do not like them with a terrestrial cordiality; earthly things interest me less than cosmic things." The assemblage no longer confronts the forces of chaos, it no longer uses the forces of the earth or the people to deepen itself but instead opens onto th forces of the Cosmos. All this seems extremely general, and somewhat Hegelian, testifying to an Absolute Spirit.

Mastery in a technology in fact is difficult to achieve because a technology grammar, unlike a linguistic one, changes rapidly. Technology grammars are primitive and dimly perceived at first; they deepen as the base knowledge that comprises them grows; and they evolve as new combinations that work well are discovered and as the daily use of working designs reveals difficulties. There is never closure to them. As a result, even adepts can never fully keep up with all the principles of combination in their domain. One result of this heavy investment in a domain is that a designer rarely puts a technology together from considerations of all domains available. The artist adapts himself, Paul Klee said, to the contents of his paintbox. "The painter...does not fit the paints to the world. He fits himself to the paint." As in art, so in technology. Designers construct from the domains they know.

The artist Paul Klee described drawing a picture as taking a line for a walk. I have borrowed his words to explain my approach to writing; when I write a novel it is like I am taking a thought for a walk.

Dirilen Tarih Meleği üzerine.... «Angelus Novus dalıp seyrettiği bir şeyden uzaklaşmak üzereymiş gibi duran bir meleği anlatır. Gözleri dik dik bakıyor, ağzı aralık, kanatları iki yana açılmış. Tarih Meleği bu şekilde betimlenir. Yüzü geçmişe dönüktür, Bizim olaylar zinciri olarak gördüğümüzü, o üst üste binmiş yıkıntılardan oluşan tek bir felaket olarak görür ve onu ayaklarının önüne fırlatır. Melek, kalıp ölüleri uyandırmak ister ve kırılıp dökülenleri bütün hâline getirmeyi. Ancak cennetten gelen bir rüzgâr esmektedir; kanatları bu rüzgâra öyle kapılmıştır ki artık onları kapatamaz. Önündeki yıkıntı gökyüzüne doğru büyürken fırtına onu sırtını döndüğü geleceğe karşl koyamadlğı bir şekilde savurur. Bu fırtına bizim gelişme dediğimiz şeydir.” Walter Benjamin, Paul Klee'nin çizimine bakıp yazmış bunları. Bu çizimden sızan önermelerden ilham alan Benjamin “tarihsel gelişim”e tapınanların, ihtiram edenlerin, saray şairlerin, dalkavukların ve yolcuların inancını, daha büyük bir mutluluğun planları, hayalleri ve umutlarının çekip yürüttüğü bu hareket hâlindeki tarih temsilini alaşağı ediyor. Benjamin aydınlık bir geleceğin bizi ileriye doğru çekmediği, ancak geçmişin karanlık korkularıyla itilip kovalandığımız ve koşmaya zorlandığımız konusunda ısrar ediyor. Benjamin'in en özgün keşfi “gelişim”i her zaman ve hâlâ ...-e doğru bir hareketten ziyade -den kaçış olduğunu söylemesi.

Fin juillet, en arrivant au Jeu de Paume, Rose aperçut une grande colonne de fumée s’élevant au-dessus de la terrasse des Tuileries. Des soldats nourrissaient un feu gigantesque, les flammes jaillissant à chaque objet qu’on y jetait. Épouvantée, Rose reconnut les tableaux modernes du Louvre, lacérés et arrachés de leurs cadres. Picasso, Paul Klee, Max Ernst, Fernand Léger flambaient sous le soleil d’été. Invendables, inutiles, détestables aux yeux du Reich, ces toiles subissaient le même sort que les œuvres brûlées dans la cour de la caserne des pompiers de Berlin, le 20 mars 1939. « Impossible de rien sauver », inscrivit elle d’un trait tremblant.

There are really only two types of men in this world when it comes to bad trouble,' Andy said cupping a match between his hands and lighting a cigarette. 'Suppose there was a house full of rare paintings and sculptures and fine old antiques, Red? And suppose the guy who owned the house heard that there was a monster of a hurricane headed right at it. One of those two kinds of men just hopes for the best. The hurricane will change course, he says to himself. No right-thinking hurricane would ever dare wipe out all the Rembrandts, my two Degas horses, my Jackson Pollocks and my Paul Klees. Furthermore, God wouldn't allow it. And worst comes to worst, they're insured. Thats's one sort of man. The other sort just assumes that the hurricane is going to tear right though the middle of his house. If the weather bureau says the hurricane just changed course, this guy assumes it'll change back in order to put his house on ground zero again. This second type of guy knows there's no harm in hoping for the best as long as you're prepared for the worst.

Klee channeled his mood through the process of using areas of color that he then outlined or added figures to embellish. Some of his paintings are simply color and shade studies, juxtaposing light and tone to produce a thing of lyrical beauty. He said, “Color is the irrational element in painting and chief vehicle of expression.” He wanted to present his works as “disciplined simplicity” in order to portray seeing the world through child-like eyes. When his work was criticized as little more than the scribbles of a child, he claimed to be delighted.

came before were fated to live and die so that it might triumph. Dan smiled through bandages and tears because he remembered a Calvin and Hobbes strip about that very idea. The author had a different vision: he owned a painting by an artist named Paul Klee called Angelus Novus, in which an angel seems to hurtle backward, wings spread, eyes fixed, mouth agape, and his description of the Klee painting was something Dan had never been able to get out of his head, his memorization hopelessly accidental: “This is how one pictures the angel of history,” the author wrote. “His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to

Την άνοιξη του 1901 έβαλα το εξής πρόγραμμα: Υπεράνω όλων η τέχνη της ζωής. Κατόπιν, ως ιδανικό επάγγελμα: η ποιητική τέχνη και η φιλοσοφία -ως πραγματικό επάγγελμα: οι πλαστικές τέχνες -και τέλος, ελλείψει πόρων ή εισοδημάτων: η τέχνη της εικονογράφησης. - Paul Klee, “Τα ημερολόγια 1898-1918” (τ. Α)

L’art ne reproduit pas le visible, il rend visible.

It is important that we do not provide adult-made models, coloring books or sheets, or prepared "color-in" papers. Never show a child how to draw or paint something—like a flower or a house; the child will often simply repeat and repeat what you have shown. Famous artists like Paul Klee and Pablo Picasso worked for many years to achieve the originality, spontaneity, and childlike qualities that our children all possess naturally. The best we can do for our children is to prepare a beautiful environment, provide the best materials, and get out of the way.