George Herbert Mead Quotes

The beauty of art is that it allows you to slow down, and for a moment, things that once seemed unfamiliar become precious to you.

What is important, then, is not that the critic should possess a correct abstract definition of beauty for the intellect, but a certain kind of temperament, the power of being deeply moved by the presence of beautiful objects.

It is not an aesthetic misstep to make the viewer aware of the paint and the painter's hand. Such an empathetic awareness lies at the heart of aesthetic appreciation.

As a consumer, I don't create art, but I think whatever the message is, art has to touch you.

If the mystical lovers of the arts, who consider all criticism dissection and all dissection destruction of enjoyment, thought logically, an exclamation like "Goodness alive!" would be the best criticism of the most deserving work of art. There are critiques which say nothing but that, only they do so more extensively.

You will never love art well until you love what she mirrors better.

Grant that the true organ with which the beautiful is apprehended is the imagination, and it follows that all arts are likely to affect the feelings indirectly.

It's hard to explain your emotions when you see a work of art.

We have no other means of recognising a work of art than our feeling for it.

There are so many reactions to art that make sense to me - but 'ick' means something.

I just like art. I get pure pleasure from it. I have a lot of wonderful paintings, and every time I look at them I see something different.

That pleasure which is at once the most pure, the most elevating and the most intense, is derived, I maintain, from the contemplation of the beautiful.

Just as there is no substitute for original works of art, there is no substitute for the world of direct sensual experience.

My whole career I've been interested by the distinction between an emotional and an intellectual response to an artwork.

It is not sufficient to see and to know the beauty of a work. We must feel and be affected by it.

You don't have to know anything about art to appreciate it or to look at it. There aren't any hidden secrets or things that you're supposed to understand.

I think that one of the most important things that art can do is give you a reason to look at something, almost give you permission to look at something.

When you walk past a painting in a museum, if it doesn't make you feel something, then it's probably a failure.

The work of art itself is . . . a vibrant, magical, and exemplary object which returns us to the world in some way more open and enriched.

Sometimes good art jumps out at me; most of the time I see bad art, or see nothing at all and just drift, feeling weird, pretending to be fine.

The learned understand the reason of art; the unlearned feel the pleasure.

Museums and art stores are also sources of pleasure and inspiration. Doubtless it will seem strange to many that the hand unaided by sight can feel action, sentiment, beauty in the cold marble; and yet it is true that I derive genuine pleasure from touching great works of art. As my finger tips trace line and curve, they discover the thought and emotion which the artist has portrayed.

The paintings of Francis Bacon to my eye are very beautiful. The paintings of Bosch or Goya are to my eye very beautiful. I've also stood in front of those same paintings with people who've said, 'let's get on to the Botticellis as soon as possible.' I have lingered, of course.

Art is an experience, not an object.

To be full of joy when looking at an oeuvre is not a little thing.