fedward, tumbling

oldhollywood:

“To the question ‘Is cinema an art?’ my answer is, ‘What does it matter?’ You can make films or you can cultivate a garden. Both have as much claim to be called art as a poem by Verlaine or a painting by Delacroix. If your film or your garden is a good one it means that as a practitioner of cinema or gardening you are entitled to consider yourself an artist. The pastry-cook who makes a good cake is an artist. The ploughman with an old-fashioned plough creates a work of art when he ploughs a furrow. Art is not a calling in itself but the way in which one exercises a calling, and also the way in which one performs any human activity. I will give you my definition of art: art is ‘making’. The art of poetry is the art of making poetry. The art of love is the art of making love.

My father [painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir] never talked to me about art. He could not bear the word. If his children chose to go in for painting, acting or music, they were free to do so, but they must never be pushed. The urge to paint a picture must be so powerful that it could not be resisted. My father said of Mozart, whom he worshipped, ‘He wrote music because he could not prevent himself,’ to which he added, ‘It was like wanting to pee.’ He considered that the mode of expression was unimportant. If Mozart had not made music he would have written poems or planted gardens.”

-Jean Renoir, My Life And My Films (photo by Raymond Voinquel, 1931)

Reblogged in its entirety, because it is awesome.