blackguarding the kettle

“‘Hear now the pot blackguarding the kettle.’. . .”

—John Steinbeck, from East of Eden, 1952.

The afternoon was golden

“The two men rode slowly back toward the Trask house. The afternoon was golden, for the yellow dust in the sky gilded the light.”

—John Steinbeck, from East of Eden, 1952.

all the colors in the world

“‘I want to open a bookstore in Chinatown in San Francisco. I would live in the back, and my days would be full of discussions and arguments. I would like to have in stock some of those dragon-carved blocks of ink from the dynasty of Sung. The boxes are worm-bored, and that ink is made from fir smoke and a glue that comes only from wild asses’ skin. When you paint with that ink it may physically be black but it suggests to your eye and persuades your seeing that it is all the colors in the world.’”

—John Steinbeck, from East of Eden, 1952.

the rose of No Man’s Land

“‘In the war’s red curse stands the Red Cross nurse. She’s the rose of No Man’s Land.’. . .”

—John Steinbeck, from East of Eden, 1952.

a Pearl White serial

“I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us, so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder.”

—John Steinbeck, from East of Eden, 1952.

Turning sand into gold

“I like to take a very weak color and make it rich and beautiful by working on its neighbors. What’s gloomier than raw sienna? Now look at what I’ve done to it there: It’s gold. It’s shining and alive, like an actor on the stage. Turning sand into gold, that’s my life and aim.”

—Josef Albers, quoted in Josef Albers: To Open Eyes, by Frederick A. Horowitz and Brenda Danilowitz, 2006.

ethics and aesthetics

“I think art parallels life. Color, in my opinion, behaves like a man in two distinct ways: first in self-realization and then in the reallization of relationships with others. In my paintings I have tried to make two polarities meet—independence and interdependence, as, for instance, in Pompeian art. There’s a certain red the Pompeians used that speaks in both these ways, first in its relation to the colors around it, and then as it appears alone, keeping its own face. In other words, one must combine both being an individual and being a member of society. That’s the parallel. I’ve handled color as a man should behave. With trained and sensitive eyes, you can recognize this double behavior of color. And from all this, you may conclude that I consider ethics and aesthetics as one.”

—Josef Albers, quoted in Josef Albers: To Open Eyes, by Frederick A. Horowitz and Brenda Danilowitz, 2006.

a powerful absorption in visual phenomena

“[Joseph] Albers was animated by a powerful absorption in visual phenomena. At Black Mountain, he recalled that as a child he’d accompanied his mother to a bank where the floor was tiled in a black-and-white checkerboard pattern. The young Albers feared that if he walked across the floor he might sink into the black squares and need to climb out onto the whites—an ordeal he mimed for his students’ amusement by hobbling around on the floor. His classes were peppered with his analyses of such commonplace phenomena as New York City streetlights, monuments in the park, and insect anatomy. He’d point out what others had perhaps glanced at but not contemplated: the shape of the Yale football stadium, the spot of light that remained for a moment when a TV set was switched off, the way a red roof could merge with a blue sky, how the color of tea deepened in a glass.”

—Frederick A. Horowitz, from Josef Albers: To Open Eyes, by Frederick A. Horowitz and Brenda Danilowitz, 2006.

seeing

“I never taught art, I think. What I have taught is philosophy. I have never taught painting. Instead I have taught seeing.”

—Josef Albers, quoted in Josef Albers: To Open Eyes, by Frederick A. Horowitz and Brenda Danilowitz, 2006.

This purple knows about this pink

“[Josef] Albers’s remarkable ability to use words to prize the character of color was a vital component of [his color] course. . . . ‘This one smells like Cuban cigars,’ he might say, or ‘it tastes like a roast beef dinner with a nice Burgundy.’ A brown, lacy study had ‘a grandmother quality.’ Albers praised one study in stripes [pictured above], saying it was like ‘good aged mellow cheese.’

Along with this, Albers would concoct little melodramas to help his students see the color performances: ‘Look here! This green is creeping in. It’s a monster coming in from the edge and taking over. . . .’ Or ‘This purple knows about this pink. You see, it’s happy to be next to it, and it keeps it from running away.‘ A certain red ’wants to take control, to be a fascist.’. . . One student recalls a conversation between yellow and orange: . . .

“Look! The color orange is at the door and says to the yellow, ‘You go first.’ But the yellow is also polite and says, ‘No, you go first.’ They are like good friends, and their conversation is very charming.’”

—Frederick A. Horowitz, from Josef Albers: To Open Eyes, by Frederick A. Horowitz and Brenda Danilowitz, 2006.