An epidemic of destruction sweeps the world today. The mind of civilized man is set to stop it. What the enemy would destroy, however, he must first … - Arshile Gorky

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An epidemic of destruction sweeps the world today. The mind of civilized man is set to stop it. What the enemy would destroy, however, he must first see. To confuse and paralyze this vision is the role of camouflage. Here the artist and more particularly the modern artist can fulfill a vital function for opposed to this vision of destruction is the vision of creation. Historically, it has been the artist's role to make manifest the beautiful inherent in all the objects of nature and man. In the study of the object, as a thing seen, he has acquired a profound understanding and sensibility concerning its visual aspects..

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About Arshile Gorky

Arshile Gorky (15 April 1904 – 21 July 1948), born Vostanik Manoog Adoyan, was an American abstract expressionist painter of Armenian descent, living and working in New York, where he got later strongly involved with American Surrealism. He was a very close friend of Willem de Kooning who respected him as a teacher in painting.

Also Known As

Native Name: Արշիլ Գորկի
Alternative Names: Ostanik-Manuk Adoian Arshil Gorʹkiĭ Arshile Gorky Adoian Arshil Gorky Osdanig-Manug Atoyan Arshil Gorki Adoyan Wostanig Adoyan Vosdanig Manoog Adoian Ostanik-Manuk Adoyan Arshil Gorki Ostanik-Manuk Adoyean Osdanig-Manug Atoian Vostanik-Manuk Adoian Arschille Gorky Vosdanik Adoian Arshele Gorky Vosdanig Adoian Archele Gorky Archel Gorky Archele Gorki Arshile Gorkij Adoian Gorky a. gorky

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About a hundred and ninety-four feet away from our house [Gorky was born in Armenia] on the road to the spring, my father had a little garden with a few apple trees which had retired from giving fruit. There was a ground constantly in shade where grew incalculable amounts of wild carrots, and porcupines had made their nests. There was a blue rock half buried in the black earth with a few patches of moss placed here and there like fallen clouds. But from where came all the shadows in constant battle like the lancers of w:Paolo Ucello's painting? This garden was identified as the Garden of Wish Fulfilment and often I had seen my mother and other village women opening their bosoms and taking out their soft breasts in their hands to rub them on the rock. Above this all stood an enormous tree all bleached under the sun, the rain, the cold, and deprived of leaves. This was the Holy Tree. I myself don't know why this tree was holy but I had witnessed many people, whoever did pass by, that would tear voluntarily a strip of their clothes and attach this to the tree. Thus through many years of the same ac, like a veritable parade of banners under the pressure of wind all these personal inscriptions of signatures, very softly to my innocent ear used to give echo to the sh-h—h-sh—h of silver leaves of the poplars.

Art comes instinctively to us, but it is so uncertain. I have in front of me photographs of all Picasso’s best works. The mere I admire them the further I feel myself removed from all art, it seems so easy, so limited! We are part of the world creation, and we ourselves create nothing.

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[speaking about a Persian rug...] how modern their conception of space was! They understood it in the seventeenth century; we are only just beginning to re-understand it in the twentieth – see how they mesh the vines, the tendrils, the flowers with space and utilize these linked forms to create wholeness and radiance.

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