An abstract painting need in 50 years by no means look "abstract" any longer.
Marcel DuchampRead
What am I? Do I know? I am a man: quite simply, a 'breather.'
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the essence of human existence and self-awareness.
In this quote, Marcel Duchamp poses fundamental questions about identity and existence. By simplistically defining himself as a 'breather,' he reduces the complexities of being a human to the act of living and breathing, prompting a reflection on what it truly means to exist and the nature of self-awareness.
In practice
In a philosophy class discussing existentialism, this quote can spark a conversation about the nature of human existence.
An abstract painting need in 50 years by no means look "abstract" any longer.
All this twaddle, the existence of God, atheism, determinism, liberation, societies, death, etc., are pieces of a chess game called language, and they are amusing only if one does not preoccupy oneself with 'winning or losing this game of chess.
I am still a victim of chess. It has all the beauty of art - and much more. It cannot be commercialized. Chess is much purer than art in its social position.
I never finished the 'Large Glass' because, after working on it for eight years, I probably got interested in something else; also, I was tired. It may be that, subconsciously, I never intended to finish it because the word 'finish' implies an acceptance of traditional methods and all the paraphernalia that accompany them.
It's a product of two poles - there's the pole of the one who makes the work, and the pole of the one who looks at it. I give the latter as much importance as the one who makes it.
I became a librarian at the Sainte-Genevieve Library in Paris. I made this gesture to rid myself of a certain milieu, a certain attitude, to have a clean conscience, but also to make a living. I was twenty-five. I had been told that one must make a living, and I believed it.
But history is neither watchmaking nor cabinet construction. It is an endeavor toward better understanding.
Censorship is the tool of those who have the need to hide actualities from themselves and from others. Their fear is only their inability to face what is real, and I can't vent any anger against them. I only feel this appalling sadness. Somewhere, in their upbringing, they were shielded against the total facts of our existence. They were only taught to look one way when many ways exist.
Besides, do any of us understand what we are doing? If we did, would we ever do it?
Every psychic advance of man arises from the suffering of the soul.
No new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the commonplace.
I alternate between thinking of the planet as home - dear and familiar stone hearth and garden - and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners.
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