Museum Quotes - page 13
The ego is at the same time a system of images and a cycle; it is something like a museum, and a unique and irreversible journey through that museum. The ego is a moving fabric made of images and tendencies; the tendencies come from our own substance, and the images are furnished by the environment. We put ourselves into things, and we place things in ourselves, whereas our true being is independent of them.
Frithjof Schuon
Every fucking week there's some celebrity or comic or an athlete that has to apologize for a caught on tape comment, or insensitive joke, a drunk tweet. And they have a press conference, and it's always something that's way weaker than the shit I say every night-- as a segue I say worse shit, nobody ever asks me to apologize. I wouldn't, but I wanna be asked one time. I've got way better shit than they do, I demand outrage for God's sakes, what do I have to do? I could've told that joke at the Simon Wiesenthal Museum of Tolerance and people would go "Huh? What'd he say? I wasn't listening."
Doug Stanhope
What I like so much about Corot is that he can say everything with a bit of tree; and it was Corot himself that I found in the museum of Naples [in 1882] – in the simplicity of the work of Pompeii and the Egyptians. These priestesses in their silver-grey tunics are just like Corot's nymphs.
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot
..the highly abstract cubism of Mondrian - a Dutchman - (it is well-known that cubism has made its entrance into the [Stedelijk Museum of Amsterdam...) though a product of cubism, Mondrian in no way imitates this style. He seems above all to have undergone the influence of Picasso, but his personality has been remained intact. His trees and his female portrait display a sensitive cerebral quality. This kind of cubism clearly follows a different path from that of Braque and Picasso, artists whose 'recherche de matière' [research of the material as matter, what Mondrian deliberately ignores]] is presently arousing such interest.
Piet Mondrian
One day in 1926 I met him at the gate of the British Museum in his private is uniform. «Hullo, Lawrence.» «Do you recognize me?» «Of course.» Then he said, «The whole afternoon i have been walking about the Museum where every attendant used to know me, and not a single one recognized me, till I inquired about someone I missed. Then the man knew me.» Quise so - what was the good of disguising if no one recognized him?
T. E. Lawrence
You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food. When you were skipping meals at a time when you had given up journalism and were writing nothing that anyone in America would buy, explaining at home that you were lunching out with someone, the best place to do it was the Luxembourg gardens... There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were heightened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry.
Ernest Hemingway
I studied a good deal in the museum at Naples; the Pompeian paintings are extremely interesting from every aspect. So I am staying in the sun – not to paint portraits but while I am warming myself and looking hard at things I hope I will have acquired some of the grandeur and simplicity of the old masters. Raphael didn't work out-of-doors, but he studied the sunlight all the same – his frescoes are full of it. So, by looking around outside, I have finished by seeing only the broad harmonies, and am no longer preoccupied with the little details, which only extinguish the sunlight, instead of increasing its brilliance. I hope therefore, when I get back to Paris, to produce something which will be the outcome of all these general studies, and to give you the benefit of them [in a letter written during his three-weeks-stay, working with Paul Cezanne at l'Estaque, near Marseille].
Pierre-Auguste Renoir
Explanatory version: Ah Rembrandt, try to paint Cornelis Anslo's voice / What one sees of his appearance is so little of him / What you can't see of him you can learn through hearing. / Those wanting a complete impression of him will have to hear him (preach). (transl. Aernout Hagen, Museum Het Rembrandthuis, Amsterdam)
Rembrandt
We were in Cooperstown (NY) a few years ago. Baseball's Hall of Fame Museum was full of visitors on a sunny morning. Among them were Pirates and Tigers players in baseball uniforms, sans spikes. They were to meet in an exhibition game an hour later. Roberto Clemente had a small camera whirring every few minutes. He was taking pictures of the enshrined plaques and other mementos of yesteryear's super stars ... Honus Wagner, Ty Cobb, Christy Mathewson, Tris Speaker, Grover Alexander ... to name a few. A Pittsburgher said to Roberto, "This is where you belong. Some day they will be taking pictures of your shrine here." "Thank you," he replied. "I guess a fellow like me has to die to get voted in by the writers."
Roberto Clemente
What can one say about a country where a museum of science in a great city can feature an exhibit in which people fire machine guns from a helicopter at Vietnamese huts, with a light flashing when a hit is scored? What can one say about a country where such an idea can even be considered? You have to weep for this country. These and a thousand other examples testify to moral degeneration on such a scale that talk about the "normal channels” of political action and protest becomes meaningless or hypocritical. We have to ask ourselves whether what is needed in the United States is dissent -or denazification. The question is a debatable one. Reasonable people may differ. The fact that the question is even debatable is a terrifying thing. To me it seems that what is needed is a kind of denazification.
Noam Chomsky
The possibilities of the art of combination are not infinite, but they tend to be frightful. The Greeks engendered the chimera, a monster with heads of the lion, the dragon and the goat; the theologians of the second century, the Trinity, in which the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost are inextricably tied; the Chinese zoologists, the ti-yiang, a vermilion supernatural bird, endowed with six feet and four wings, but without a face or eyes; the geometers of the nineteenth century, the hypercube, a figure with four dimensions, which encloses an infinite number of cubes and has as its faces eight cubes and twenty-four squares. Hollywood has just enriched this vain museum of horrors: by means of an artistic malignity called dubbing, it proposes monsters that combine the illustrious features of Greta Garbo with the voice of Aldonza Lorenzo.
Jorge Luis Borges
