Paul Klee
Paul Klee
Paul Kleewas a Swiss-German artist. His highly individual style was influenced by movements in art that included Expressionism, Cubism, and Surrealism. Klee was a natural draftsman who experimented with and eventually deeply explored color theory, writing about it extensively; his lectures Writings on Form and Design Theory, published in English as the Paul Klee Notebooks, are held to be as important for modern art as Leonardo da Vinci's A Treatise on Painting for the Renaissance. He and his colleague, Russian...
NationalitySwiss
ProfessionPainter
Date of Birth18 December 1879
CityMunchenbuchsee, Switzerland
CountrySwitzerland
I still come closest to success with drawing. When I use color the results are dubious, for these painfully gained experiences bear less fruit.
Spatial art does not begin with a poetic mood or idea, but with construction of one or more figures, with the harmonizing of several colors and tones, or with the devaluation of spatial relationships and so on.
By using patches of color and tone it is possible to capture every natural impression in the simplest way, freshly and immediately.
...A long struggle lies in store for me in this field of color.
Color possesses me. I don't have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. That is the meaning of this happy hour: Color and I are one. I am a painter.
Color and I are one. I am a painter.
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.
Color is the place where our brain and the universe meet.
Some will not recognize the truthfulness of my mirror. Let them remember that I am not here to reflect the surface... but must penetrate inside. My mirror probes down to the heart. I write words on the forehead and around the corners of the mouth. My human faces are truer than the real ones.
Art does not reproduce what we see; rather, it makes us see.
Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible
Dell cited IBM as the competitor that has been the most aggressive right now.
Standing at his appointed place, at the trunk of the tree, he does nothing other than gather and pass on what comes to him from the depths. And the beauty at the crown is not his own. He is merely a channel.
Genius sits in a glass house -- but in an unbreakable one --conceiving ideas. After giving birth, it falls into madness. Stretches out its hand through the window toward the first person happening by. The demon's claw rips, the iron fist grips. Before, you were a model, mocks the ironic voice between serrated teeth, for me, you are raw material to work on. I throw you against the glass wall, so that you remain stuck there, projected and stuck. (Then come the lovers of art and contemplate the bleeding work from outside. Then come the photographers. ''New art,'' it says in the newspaper the following day. The learned journals give it a name that ends in ''ism.'')