We’ve collected the best Gallery Quotes from the greatest minds of the world: Jack Nicklaus, Tom Green, J. Carter Brown, Beeban Kidron, Jeff Koons. Use them as an inspiration.
The Washingtonian said it shouldn’t be built. The gallery’s East Building is now considered a triumph, and members of the American Association of Architects have voted it one of the best buildings of all time.
When I was 13, I had a weekend job at the Photographers Gallery Bookshop in London.
I love the gallery, the arena of representation. It’s a commercial world, and morality is based generally around economics, and that’s taking place in the art gallery.
It was my father‘s hope, and it is ours, that the National Gallery would become not a static but a living institution, growing in usefulness and importance to artists, scholars and the general public.
For me, the gallery legitimates the art production and helps build collections. I don’t think an artist should do everything by himself forever. I did it for years and then slowly built my circle of trust.
I wanted to be a star, not a gallery mascot.
The gallery is generating work for the masses.
Works of art often last forever, or nearly so. But exhibitions themselves, especially gallery exhibitions, are like flowers; they bloom and then they die, then exist only as memories, or pressed in magazines and books.
Whenever I’m in Edinburgh, which I visit often, I always try to hop on a train to Kirkcaldy to visit the art gallery, where my grandfather was convenor for 36 years, to revisit the marvellous paintings from my childhood – as do other family members.
Urs Fischer specializes in making jaws drop. Cutting giant holes in gallery walls, digging a crater in Gavin Brown‘s gallery floor in 2007, creating amazing hyperrealist wallpaper for a group show at Tony Shafrazi: It all percolates with uncanny destructiveness, operatic uncontrollability, and barbaric sculptural power.
The Spiral Gallery may happen, too. It is not dependent on government funding.
There is no reason why the Louvre should be your favourite gallery just because it has the grandest collections in France, any more than Kew should necessarily be a favourite garden because it has the largest assemblage of plants, or Tesco your chosen shop because it has the widest variety of canned beans.
When I get some down time on the weekends, I love gallery hopping with friends, in particular checking out Gagosian Galleries – between the three in N.Y.C., there’s always a great show on or something cool to see.
Being a good Hans Haacke student, part of his influence on me is that there’s no difference between a gallery show and a film – or even an ad and a T-shirt-in terms of cultural legitimacy. They’re just different contexts in which to have some sort of communication.
In a gallery, there’s an expectation of high prices and a somewhat elitist atmosphere.
I’m noticing a new approach to art making in recent museum and gallery shows. It flickered into focus at the New Museum’s ‘Younger Than Jesus‘ last year and ran through the Whitney Biennial, and I’m seeing it blossom and bear fruit at ‘Greater New York,’ MoMA P.S. 1’s twice-a-decade extravaganza of emerging local talent.
The nice thing about the gallery shows is that without having to pay any money you can just go and see it.
Appropriation is the idea that ate the art world. Go to any Chelsea gallery or international biennial and you’ll find it. It’s there in paintings of photographs, photographs of advertising, sculpture with ready-made objects, videos using already-existing film.
The type of work I do, which is often called ‘Pop Surrealism,’ is very separate from Gagosian and Mary Boone type of gallery art.
It shouldn’t be that people think the National Gallery is just for middle-class white people.
You never see what you want to see, forever playing to the gallery.
When I was growing up, there was a feeling in one’s living room as much as in one’s local gallery that a little elitism was good for the soul.
Public art is a unique type of art. It’s very different to gallery art because it is something that we pass by every day and it inevitably creates a lot of discussion in a way that gallery art does not.
I grew up with the great Sir Laurence Olivier, and I think it’s fair to say that a lot of actors of my age were influenced by his very individual vocal delivery. He was a showman who would always play to the gallery.
I’m someone who’s experienced impostor syndrome – as I think a lot of people have with their careers, especially when they pursue what they’re passionate about, because they want to be good at it. I’ve experienced that as a gay man; I’ve experienced that as a cook, as a gallery director, as a student of psychology.
I didn’t want to be an actress. I wasn’t trying to be in film or an art gallery for me.
I want people to come to me open and vulnerable. When they come to the gallery, they have to leave their watches, their computers, their Blackberrys, iPads, iPhones, because we are so incredibly used to technology, and I wanted to remove that.
The New York gallery scene being as incredibly overpopulated and overmoneyed as it is, deep conflicts and contradictions aren’t hard to find.
When some people were going around being surf bums and tennis bums, I was being a gallery bum. I really liked galleries.
As artists we need to stop making work only for gallery or museum walls, or the coffee tables of collectors.
I like the idea that you can paint something outdoors, and anyone can see it. It’s open to anyone, and people have to deal with it. In the gallery, it’s the same 150 people on the San Francisco art scene. There’s a dynamic on the street that’s definitely more interesting.