Women Artists

"Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, except backwards and in high heels."

"What's all this talk about me being teamed with Ginger Rogers? I will not have it Leland--I did not go into pictures to be teamed with her or anyone else, and if that is the program in mind for me I will not stand for it. I don't mind making another picture with her but as for this teams idea, it's out."

"That's pure bunk. I adored Fred. We were good friends. Our only problem is that we never aspired to be any kind of a team. We didn't want to be Abbott and Costello. We thought of ourselves as individuals. We didn't intend to be another Frick and Frack. [smiling, after a pause] But it happened anyway, didn't it? And I'll be forever grateful it did."

"I loved Fred so, and I mean that in the nicest, warmest way: I had such affection for him artistically. I think that experience with Fred was a divine blessing. It blessed me, I know, and I don't think blessings are one sided."

"She had guts."

"The hardest working actress I ever knew."

"Ginger was brilliantly effective. She made everything work for her. Actually she made things very fine for both of us and she deserves most of the credit for our success."

"Believe me, Ginger was great. She contributed her full fifty percent in making them such a great team. She could follow Fred as if one brain was thinking. She blended with his every step and mood immaculately. He was able to do dances on screen that would have been impossible to risk if he hadn't had a partner like Ginger - as skillful as she was attractive."

"I gave you my life, you gave me my life. Like a gush of wind in my hair. Why do we forget what's been said And play the game of life with our hearts?"

"every time Yoko Ono pays to have that full page in The New York Times — the “War is Over” page — I’m fascinated by that. I think, well, I’d love to hear her talk about why she continues to do this, because we so much wish it were true. We’d like to be able to say, “Yes, it’s true.” I actually kept that postcard that said “War is Over” in that same font on my wall for years, because I so much wanted to believe it. And yet, you look at the world, and it’s not true, and you think, is this just — is this manifest positive thinking?"

"I learned everything from her. … It is a teacher-pupil relationship. That's what people don't understand. She's the teacher and I'm the pupil. I'm the famous one, the one who's supposed to know everything, but she's my teacher. She's taught me everything I fucking know."

"Woman, please let me explainI never meant to cause you sorrow or painSo let me tell you again and again and again...I love youNow and forever."

"My biography now reads, "Born, lived and met Yoko.""

"That's part of our policy, is not to be taken seriously, because I think our opposition, whoever they may be, in all their manifest forms, don't know how to handle humor. You know, and we are humorous, we are, what are they, Laurel and Hardy. That's John and Yoko, and we stand a better chance under that guise, because all the serious people, like Martin Luther King, and Kennedy, and Gandhi, got shot."

"The opposite of love is fear, not hate."

"Remember, each one of us has the power to change the world. Power works in mysterious ways. You don’t have to do much. Visualise the domino effect And just start thinking PEACE. The message will circulate faster than you think. It’s Time For Action. The Action is PEACE. Spread the word. Spread PEACE. I love you!"

"If your judgement is clouded, you must be carrying too many things which are being a burden to you."

"Remember, our hearts are one. Even when we are at war with each other, our hearts are always beating in unison."

"Don't ever give up on life. Life can be so beautiful, especially after you've spent a lot of time with it."

"I thank Pussy Riot for standing firmly in their belief for Freedom of Expression, and making all women of the world proud to be women."

"In a day, sometimes I feel so much love for the world, I think my heart is bursting. Sometimes, I feel so scared, I want to shrink myself even further. I think that’s what happened to us gods and goddesses. Like the dinosaurs, we realized that it’s too dangerous to be so large. So we kept shrinking ourselves to what we are now. We might get even smaller. I see the sign in the engineers making smaller gadgets, smaller and smaller. Pretty soon, our fingers will be too large to operate them. So what are we doing? I trust in the human wisdom. We are incredibly intelligent beings. So we might know something without thinking that we know…. Well, even my best friend didn’t know until now that I was thinking of crazy things like this."

"John and I felt that we were like people in an H. G. Wells story. Two people who are walking so fast that nobody else can see them."

"If Lennon were alive today, he probably would have reconciled with the man he accused of having "made a fool of everyone." John would have been the first one now, if he had been there, to recognise and acknowledge what Maharishi has done for the world and appreciate it."

"I’m not that concerned about professional politicians. I always believe that we can change the world by grass-roots movements. It is a very important thing to do. It is the first time that I realized that I respect America so much because there are so many Americans trying to shift the axis of the world to peace."

"I dedicate this light tower to John Lennon my love for you is forever yoko ono October 9th 2007"

"There is a saying that a glass is half empty or half full, depending on how you look at it. Well, we all know that one. But we cannot just say, okay so half full is how we should look at things. No. We have to go even further in our observation and realize that the glass is actually 100 percent full: 50 percent with water and 50 percent with air."

"Never say goodbye, You say tomorrow's another day, All I know is we're here today. I've got nightmares I could never share with you, The kind that keeps me up all night. So hold me tight till the room is light And tell me that it's all right."

"Walking on thin ice, I'm paying the price. I'm throwing the dice in the air. Why must we learn it the hard way And play the game of life with your heart?"

"I usually stay away from being carried away, But one day I saw a silver horse. I thought he might take me to that somewhere high, I thought he might take me to that deep blue sky. I came to realize that the horse had no wings. No wings, well, it wasn't so bad, you know. I learnt to travel the world around And run on the ground in the morning. And that's the story of a wandering soul, A story of a dreamer."

"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality."

"..scumbled froth.. ..capable of indicating a mouth, eyes, a nose with a single stroke of the brush, the rest of the face modeled by the perfect accuracy of these indications."

"This project [an Impressionist exhibition in Paris] is very much up in the air. Degas' perversity makes it almost impossible of realization; there are clashes of vanity in this little group [of impressionists] that make any understanding difficult. It seems to me that I am the only one without any pettiness of character. This makes up for my inferiority as a painter.. ..the truth is that our value [of woman] lies in feeling, in intuition, in our vision that is subtler than that of men, and we can accomplish a great deal provided that affectation, pedantry and sentimentalism do not come to spoil everything."

"It is odd that Edouard [Manet] with his reputation as an innovator, who has survived such storms of criticism, should suddenly be seen as a classicist. It just proves the imbecility of the public, for he has always been a classic painter."

"I think that it will be a great success, that all this painting [of Edouard Manet, shortly after his death], so fresh, so vital, will electrify the 'Palais des Beaux Arts' [in Paris], which is accustomed to dead art. It will be the revenge for so many rebuffs, but a revenge that the poor boy only in his grave."

"A painter of women, and a women herself, Berthe Morisot imbued her female models with all the charm, all the sensuality, all the tender lightness of being that characterize her own vision, communicated through her work.. .It falls to us to recognize that beyond its tender charm and femininity [frequently expressed by art-critics in her time], her work is well structured, constantly searching for greater subtlety of expression; and that its superficial appearance, however delightful and attractive, simultaneously hides and reveals a depth concealed form over-hasty eyes by discretion and diffidence alone."

"Edma painted a portrait of Berthe the artist about this time [1860-61]. It is not only a sisterly dedication, it is an important statement. Berthe stands before her easel, her right hand central to the picture, poised to touch her palette with a brush. The pretty round-faced girl had vanished."

"..For all that, Berthe Morisot has been misunderstood. Her life has rapidly taken on the mantle of myth. It is a charming myth, originating with the critic of Théodore Duret, but elaborated by Paul Valéry, the renowned philosopher, critic, essayist and poet and her nephew by marriage. Indeed it is a magical myth, perpetuated by friends, relatives and descendants for the best part of a century."

"Berthe Morisot's place in art history has been shaped by a specific legacy of admiration and family curator-ship.. .. -that her art was truly impressionist because it was so truly 'feminine'-.. ..[so] she was damned by the very terms in which she had once been so enthusiastically acclaimed."

"It was Corot, [c. 1860-1864] who taught her [Berthe Morisot] to bathe in air her landscapes, her figures, her still-life compositions; it was he who taught her the difficult lesson of understanding values."

"Until her death, when I was sixteen, we were always together [she and her mother Berthe]. I was very spoiled. It was almost as if my mother knew she wouldn't live for very long; she looked after me, painted me and drew me, with all her strength and tenderness."

"It is made of nothing, a nothingness multiplied by the supreme art of her touch, the merest touch of mist, a hint of swans, the quick touch of a brush barely rubbing the fabric. This gentle brushing gives us everything: the time of day, the season, and the knowledge, the promptitude which that confers, the great gift of reducing things to their essence, of lightening matter to the extreme and, through that, of taking the impression of the workings of the mind to its highest degree."

"Berthe Morisot's uniqueness way to 'live' her painting, and to paint her life.. ..she took up, put down, returned to her brush like a thought that comes to us, is clean forgotten, then occurs to us once again. It is this that gives her work the very particular charm of a close, almost indissoluble connection between the artist's ideal and the intimacy of an individual life."

"She wanted it [the studio] not facing north, but full south; the light is diffused through cream-colored blinds; there is not a dark corner to be seen. The daffodils, tulips, and peonies in vases stand out against a bright background, with their transparent flesh, the flat, uniform modeling of objects and faces before a window. Lighting such as this reputedly drains a scene of color; but I do not believe that before Berthe Morisot, any artist deliberately, invariably painted in the absence of effect – by which I mean suppressing the oppositions of shade and half-tones and choosing to highlight a figure by the apposition of color of the same bright value."

"Before my eyes, she made a charming portrait of Mlle Marguerite Carré in a pink dress, pale pink, the whole canvas was pale. Berthe Morisot was already very much herself, eliminating shadows and half-tones from the natural scene.. ..She touched her canvas like the bloom of a cheek, treating a millstone, a suburban poplar tree, a mouth, or a tulle scarf all alike.. ..I should like to believe that she perhaps suggested, to Claude Monet or Sisley, that a Parisian view or the landscape around Paris, a garden, a railway bridge, poppies in a pale field of oats.. .. were painterly motifs.."

"A small woman in white, wearing a delicate knitted cap, looks at herself in a small hand-held mirror; she is sitting on a sofa, also white, silhouetted against a white muslin curtain through which the light passes, playing deliciously over the whole symphony of white, and the effect of the back-lighting creates astonishing shades of gray. Such difficulty overcome with such charm [in the painting 'Jeune Femme au miroir / Young Woman at Her Looking Glass', Berthe Morisot painted in 1876]."

"[the light] seems to break as if by force through a limpid crystal glass or block of ice. It retains its tender blue, and its green embers, it acquires a fragile brilliance, it radiates with fresh palpitations, shimmering and sparkling.. .The whole canvas is phosphorescent with the great brilliance of marine light pouring in from outside.. ..this clear brilliance that traverses the walls, harmonizes the colors, animates vague forms with strange life, is rediscovered wherever Mme Morisot has left her personal mark."

"If I may put it in these terms, she [Berthe Morisot] eliminates cumbersome epithets, weightily adverbs, in her clear phrasing: everything is subject and verb; she has a kind of telegrammatic style with sparkling, polished vocabulary.."

"Berthe Morisot is disturbing. In her exquisite works there is a morbid curiosity that astonishes and charmes. Morisot seems to paint with her nerves on edge, providing a few scanty traces to create complete disquieting evocations."

"My dear Berthe, I have indeed just received a visit from the dreaded Pissarro who spoke about your next [groups-]exposition. The gentlemen don't seem to be able to agree [the exposing artists]. Gauguin is playing the great dictator. Sisley, who – I also saw, would like to know what Monet should do [participating or not]. As for Renoir, he hasn't yet returned to Paris. I am surprised Eugène [Manet -the brother of Edouard and husband of Berthe] did not remember that it was very cold in Florence – we shivered there for two months once before.."

"Take this book, when violet Dawn Rises over the Wood To the house of Madame Eugène Manet To the road of far-away Villejust, number 40"