Best 99 quotes in «artistry quotes» category

Pampered content is a public resignation of artistic integrity.

Perhaps the single most enjoyable part of my researches, which covered a period of about four years, was meeting the artists themselves, the people who provide the luxuries. All of them, from tailors and boot makers to truffle hunters and champagne blenders, were happy in their work, generous with their time, and fascinating about their particular skills. To listen to a knowledgeable enthusiast, whether he's talking about a Panama hat or the delicate business of poaching foie gras in Sauternes, is a revelation, and I often came away wondering why the price wasn't higher for the talent and patience involved.

Pop is about speaking everybody's language. The imagery and iconography we instantly recognize. When you can rely on things that the public already knows, you're dealing with Pop.

Prove to the world that you are alive, let your words breathe life into the nostrils of the universe.

Reading is the foundation of learning but an artist drew up the blueprints.

Sometimes for the spectators a great magic effect is worth a life’s experience.

(reporter interviewing Broadway dancer Tommy Tune:) 'Do you think that greats like Fred Astaire possessed some kind of magic?' (pause) 'No. Magic possesses them'.

Some days are better than others. The same can be said about people.

The best art is not always the most popular art, and the most popular art is never truly the best art. The best art is that which is streamed through God. And the worst art is that which is void of God. The master artist of the universe is the Creator of All Things, and his reflection is in all of us. Only the artist who is aware that he is a reflection of that greatness, and that creativity is supreme love, is a true divine artist. Even if he is not the most popular artist, he will be very popular among the stars of His universe. That is the master artist, one who uses his talents to serve as a vehicle of God. In his work, you hear God's voice and see with His eyes.

Take delight on a woman’s pubic hair for its a signature of maturity and a secretive covenant . . . the hair signifies potent sexual energy and strength hold but also signifies virility of the animalistic tendencies and royal power . . . A woman who rejects narcissism of complete vaginal hair removal gives a signature of strength, virtuously liberated, body acceptance, and more womanhood.

That I isn't I anymore. It's someone else, the character who plays me, someone who's a better actor than I could ever be. I'm just the writer. Someone else is starring in my part. I remember him just well enough to try to write about him. A case of the negative sublime. I guess art's always after the fact. The real is imaginary, or imagined. Reconstitution, reconstruction, representation is all we're left with. Autobiography becomes biography in the end.

The essence of the motif is the mirror of water, whose appearance alters at every moment.

The poem in the head is always perfect. Resistance starts when you try to convert it into language. Language itself is a kind of resistance to the pure flow of self.

The look that one directs at things, both outward and inward, as an artist, is not the same as that with which one would regard the same as a man, but at once colder and more passionate. As a man, you might be well-disposed, patient, loving, positive, and have a wholly uncritical inclination to look upon everything as all right, but as an artist your daemon constrains you to "observe", to take note, lightning fast and with hurtful malice, of every detail that in the literary sense would be characteristic, distinctive, significant, opening insights, typifying the race, the social or the psychological mode, recording all as mercilessly as though you had no human relationship to the observed object whatever.

There are several ways to perform almost any act - an efficient, workable, artistic way and a careless, indifferent, sloppy way. Care and artistry are worth the trouble. They can be a satisfaction to the practitioner and a joy to all beholders.

There is one art, no more, no less, to do all things with artlessness.

(...) there's a difference between what happens to one in real life and what one can make real in art.

There was a man with tongue of wood Who essayed to sing, And in truth it was lamentable. But there was one who heard The clip-clapper of this tongue of wood And knew what the man Wished to sing, And with that the singer was content.

There’s something about doing a job well that is akin to art.

There’s this misconception that artists should create their own mythologies, through how they live. Not true. They should create their own mythologies through their work. In whatever styles, textures and approaches they choose to use.

The secret of good magic is another magic.

The triumph for Cameliano was that he found his truth of Estefania by disregarding hers, which had always been an established fact. But she deliberately embraced his intentions to cover it up.

Ultimately, musicians of the world must come realise the potential of their calling. Like the shamans, we may serve as healers, metaphysicians, inciters, exciters, spiritual guides and sources of inspiration. If the musician is illuminated from within, he becomes a lamp that lights other lamps. Then he is serving planet and its people, healing what ails us. Such music is truly important. It is said that “only one who obeys can truly command.” When the artist is immersed in a services, giving himself up over and over again, another paradox occurs: He is being seen by all others as a master.

When we have pleaded for understanding, our character has been distorted; when we have asked for simple caring, we have been handed empty inspirational appellations, then stuck in a far corner. When we have asked for love, we have been given children. In short, even our plainer gifts, our labors of fidelity and love, have been knocked down our throats.

We each harbour a talent. It hibernates within us, snug yet eager, waiting for the first darling buds of opportunity to emerge.

What I say is misdirection, what you see is an illusion and what results is magic.

What was the point of accurately rendering sketches, when everyone could draw up the same picture in their minds? What was special about being able to hold an image clearly in his head, rotate it, and see different angles of light reflecting off of it? Thanks to the Stream, everyone could do that now. The Stream robbed him of his artistic skill. Stupid Stream

When we see things from a different perspective, they either transform into fair features or slip under the cloak of the collective unconscious… overruled by the artistry and allure of the overall piece.

A chef is a mixture maybe of artistry and craft. You have to learn the craft really to get there.

You can survive without artistry, but you cannot live without artistry.

An artist's saddest secrets are those that have to do with his artistry.

I deteriorate. I might tell you something one day and then something else another day. You fold in on yourself and that's why this whole artistry thing is the devil. It's evil. I hope I don't succumb to it.

And any stone being mentally handled must become endowed with such poetry and artistry as God has given you.

Irish people are educated not only about artistry but local history.

In regards to my artistry, I've learned the importance of being vulnerable.

Peter Martin’s artistry is nothing short of extraordinary. To sing with him is sublime – to listen to him play is a transcendent experience.

It's amazing to see things that are suggested in the book fully developed and so brilliantly realized through the artistry of the designers.

I want to get into the whole clothing thing, movies, but I just want to make sure that my artistry is locked down.

Software is a great combination between artistry and engineering.

A great magician is as divine as God and his stage is as majestic as the paradise.

The difference between the forgettable and the enduring is artistry.

The old model of the industry was founded largely upon business folk trying to make money off artists. At EMP, we let the music make the money, not the other way around. We have flipped the model to make the artistry be at the forefront of everything we do. Music makes the business and that's what makes it work.

Usually it's a pretty calculated, sustained, and slow process by which you develop something. The effect can be one of spontaneity, but that's part of the artistry.

A bad magician never gets the good props.

Alexei has created a language of a hundred and twelve thousand words controlled by an elaborate syntax. It is a pity that no one can enjoy it along with Alexei, but he refuses to translate a single word. He has been accused of both narcissism and ostentation, but he is never offended. It is the typical artist, so he declares, who is mad for acclaim and whose self-esteem depends upon adulation. Alexei sees himself as a lonely man, indifferent to both praise and censure.” Wayness craned her neck. “He is now playing the concertina and dancing a jig, all at the same time. What do you make of that?” “It is just Alexei in one of his moods; it means nothing.

A lifetime had to be crafted, just like anything else, she thought, it had to be moulded and beaten and burnished in order to get the most out of it.

A great magician is not more magical than other magicians; he is just more magical in his presentation.

All art forms possess liberty beyond space and time, yet grounded by urgency of now, and a breath of truth.

And I Said To My Soul, Be Loud Madden me back to an afternoon I carry in me not like a wound but like a will against a wound Give me again enough man to be the child choosing my own annihilations To make of this severed limb a wand to conjure a weapon to shatter dark matter of the dirt daubers' nests galaxies of glass Whacking glints bash-dancing on the cellar's fire I am the sound the sun would make if the sun could make a sound and the gasp of rot stabbed from the compost's lumpen living death is me O my life my war in a jar I shake you and shake you and may the best ant win For I am come a whirlwind of wasted things and I will ride this tantrum back to God until my fixed self, my fluorescent self my grief–nibbling, unbewildered, wall–to–wall self withers in me like a salted slug

A magician with decreasing practice sessions will give defective performances.