Jeffrey Deitch is the Jeff Koons of art dealers. Not because he's the biggest best or the richest of his kind. But because in some ways he's the weirdest (which is saying a lot when you're talking about the wonderful wicked lovable and annoying creatures known as art dealers).

The reason the art world doesn't respond to Kinkade is because none - not one - of his ideas about subject-matter surface color composition touch scale form or skill is remotely original. They're all cliche and already told.

Many art-worlders have an if-you-say-so approach to art: Everyone is so scared of missing out on the next hot artist that it's never clear whether people are liking work because they like it or because other people do. Everyone is keeping up with the Joneses and there are more Joneses than ever.

The New York art world readily proves people wrong. Just when folks say that things stink and flibbertigibbet critics wish the worst on us all because we're not pure enough good omens appear.

It took the Metropolitan Museum of Art nearly 50 years to wake up to Pablo Picasso. It didn't own one of his paintings until 1946 when Gertrude Stein bequeathed that indomitable quasi-Cubistic picture of herself - a portrait of the writer as a sumo Buddha - to the Met principally because she disliked the Museum of Modern Art.

I would no more quarrel with a man because of his religion than I would because of his art.

You can't but know that if you can capture the emotions of the audience as well as their minds the play will work better because it's a narrative art form.

What an artist is trying to do for people is bring them closer to something because of course art is about sharing. You wouldn't be an artist unless you wanted to share an experience a thought.

At the University of Maryland my first year I started off planning to major in art because I was interested in theatre design stage design or television design.

Riding a race bike is an art - a thing that you do because you feel something inside.