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Even The West Has Known The Architecture Of Empty Space, Whose Object, For Thousands Of Years, Has Been Less To Construct Divine Houses, Than To Create Sacred Places, To Seize Upon Mystery And To Immerse Man In It-whether By Raising The Cyclopean Pedestal That Surrounds Him With Stars, Or By Hollowing Out The Sanctuary That Wraps Him In Haunted Night.

In Ceasing To Subordinate Creative Power To Any Supreme Value, Modern Art Has Brought Home To Us The Presence Of That Creative Power Throughout The Whole History Of Art.

All Art Is A Revolt Against Man's Fate.

Here, Reality Is Not Subordinated To Painting, Indeed Painting Seems The Handmaid Of Reality, Though We Feel It Tending Towards A Procedure Which, While Not At The Mercy Of Appearances, Is Not Yet In Conflict With Them.

The Ordinary Man Puts Up A Struggle Against All That Is Not Himself, Whereas It Is Against Himself, In A Limited But All-essential Field, That The Artist Has To Battle.