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MUSEUM
CONTEMPORARY Artists SHOWCASEs
MUSEUM QUALITY print & ebook edition
Hardcover 280 PAGES 8X6 IN /20X15 CM

Publisher Masters of Today (MOT)

ISBN-13
  9789189685291

 
ART UNLIMITED
101 Contemporary Artists
limited run collectors' edition book
ISBN: 9789189685284
Hardcover 280 PAGES
Edited and Published by MOT
DIMENSIONS
: 8.5X8.5 IN /22x22 cm

 

Creative GENIUS
100 Contemporary Artists
limited run collectors' edition book
ISBN: 9789189685154
Hardcover 240 PAGES

Edited and Published by MOT
DIMENSIONS
: 8.5X8.5 IN / 22x22 cm


 

ART IN VOGUE
123 Contemporary Artists
limited run collectors' edition book

ISBN: 9789189685130
Hardcover, 224 PAGES
Edited and Published by MOT
DIMENSIONS
: 8.5X8.5 IN / 22x22 cm


 
MASTERS
117 Contemporary Artists
limited run collectors' edition book
ISBN: 9789189685185

Hardcover, 264 PAGES
Edited and Published by MOT
DIMENSIONS
: 8.5X8.5 IN / 22x22 cm

 
FAMOUS
121 Contemporary Artists
limited run collectors' edition book
ISBN: 9789189685116
Hardcover, 262 PAGES
Edited and Published by MOT
DIMENSIONS: 8.5X8.5 IN / 22x22 cm

 
tRENDS
136
Contemporary Artists
limited run collectors' edition book
ISBN: 978-91-89685-17-8
Hardcover, 168 PAGES
Edited and Published by MOT
DIMENSIONS
: 8.5X8.5 IN / 22x22 cm
 
 

[To mark the beginning]
It looks like a black line, rising at dusk. A sharp purple-grey cloud that becomes obscure and then grows endlessly. While it rises, the sky Ė with all its stars - begins to darken in my sight. Picture it! It is as if someone Ė which I never knew - has abruptly rang my bell, warning me that soon Iím going to get lost, drifting away for this oppressive silence that lasts inside myself forever. A silence always equal to itself, although capable to change the surface in various different ways. A silence ingrained into this past of mine that seems to me so strange, so vague. Between reality and me there is a veil that my thoughts cannot tear apart. Will you simply think at yourself? Just yourself, if only for a second.

[Living together with others]
Someone says that anything is transcendental and it is more or less real, just like reality - rainbows, seas, continents, mountains as well as every single being, every single animal, every single object.  Although many times I feel like I am dying, I still continue to ask from Art a way to reveal my soul to me. So my mind can freeze for a moment while it understands that I, actually, I exist for real, that Iím truly made of flesh, nerves, blood, energy. Sometimes my lips whisper a love song, or I teardrop instinctually, crying for someone I do not know yet. Are we really able to love with that kind of love we really need and wish for ourselves?
[Meanings and quest]
I guess I would be quite happy if I could blow away every single one of my thoughts, every single motion, in order to let myself drown deeper and deeper in an empty life, just ordinary: prosaic work and no knowledge at all. Stupidly, if not shabbily joyful, I would drink the water of this human existence without asking where it is its source. Sometimes, I wonder if happiness exists only for those who know that they can no longer feel it. When I come to the mystery, and I understand it, Iím frightened. Are you? No, art canít speak about itself, at least not this particular form of art which you feel is yours and you nourish through. Nevertheless, I ask you not to doubt it. Sometimes, in your eyes, it might seem too much, or not enough at all. I ask you at least not to doubt your suffering, because you will suffer much more and in vain, if one day youíll realize that you doubt it.
[Different sentiments]
You can feel love for someone without being there. Without uttering a single word. During your day, you may pronounce nonsensical sentences (everybody does it): in those moments you know you forget yourself and, even if you are going to talk with someone about your art, or just to yourself, you probably may even not remember how much you love it. So, if youíre faithful to your statement or, you have decided it to break it, itís all right as well: rather then speak of anything, just tell about nothing or donít. When youíll see a work of yours after years, you will not know anymore who you were and where and, it could comes that youíll miss yourself too.
[Why are you so]
How can you love being so far and, to be glad only by thinking to be arrived when someone is not arrived yet? Do you have a secret? Donít you want to share it? Be confident. You have always known everything about yourself, although you do not know anything yet. If youíll tell your secrets, you will understand them. We pray, we love, we cheat, we confuse ourselves, we think, we feel, we warn, we make illusions, we dream for a number of infinite times. Everything we do is in order to help us forget - or bless - our name, cast a spell, look for happiness. And if one day youíll cry once more, caught by the muddy spirals of sadness, you can still decide to share your sorrows with that discipline that you see somehow magic. Be shy, but not indifferent. Shiver, tremble or scream your feelings and thoughts like a fire that shines through the night, before it dies down. Meet in the chaos. Shoot a flash to enlighten your path in most truly complete human way. Be wrong, never banal.


MOT is representation in international book fairs by Augustin-Richard | GbR Frankfurt Am Main