What is he, then? He is Gauguin, the savage who hates the burden of our civilization, a sort of Titan who, jealous of the creator, makes his own little world in his spare time, a child who takes toys apart in order to build others from the pieces, one who denies and defies, who prefers to see the sky red rather than blue like the rest of us.

ll est extraordinaire qu'on puisse mettre tant de mystere dans tant d'eclat.

Jamais je n'ai voulu et je n'accepterai le manque de modele ou de graduation. C'est un non-sens. Gauguin n'etait pas un peintre, il n'a fait que des images chi…

?uvre etrangement cerebrale, passionnante, inegale encore, mais jusque dans ses inegalites poignante et superbe. ?uvre douloureuse, car pour la comprendre, pou…

Are we not men? We are DEVO!

We turn our backs on nature; we are ashamed of beauty. Our wretched tragedies have a smell of the office clinging to them, and the blood that trickles from the…

If they cut off both hands, I will compose music anyway holding the pen in my teeth.