"The important thing is to remember what most impressed you and to put it on canvas as fast as possible"
About this Quote
Bonnard is telling you to trust the first sting of sensation, not the slow bureaucratic process of “getting it right.” The important thing isn’t the scene in front of you so much as the residue it leaves in you: what most impressed you. That word “impressed” matters. It’s almost physical, like a thumbprint in wet paint. He’s talking about memory as a creative instrument, not a faulty substitute for observation.
The insistence on speed is the real provocation. “As fast as possible” isn’t just workflow advice; it’s a defense against taste, second-guessing, and the deadening politeness of refinement. If you wait, the intellect starts negotiating: Maybe that color is too loud. Maybe the composition needs to behave. Bonnard’s subtext is that the original perception is truer than the correction, because it still contains the shock of aliveness. His paintings often feel like that: domestic interiors and gardens turned incandescent, as if the light is remembering itself.
Context sharpens the intent. Bonnard straddled a moment when photography had already claimed the job of exact depiction and modern painting was deciding what it could do instead. He wasn’t a manifesto guy like some contemporaries; he was a sensualist with discipline. This line quietly rejects the academic fetish for finish while also dodging the macho myth of pure spontaneity. Speed here isn’t sloppiness. It’s preservation: get the feeling down before it fossilizes into “good painting.”
It’s advice that still lands in an era of infinite edits and undo buttons: capture the first honest version of what moved you, then you can earn the right to revise.
The insistence on speed is the real provocation. “As fast as possible” isn’t just workflow advice; it’s a defense against taste, second-guessing, and the deadening politeness of refinement. If you wait, the intellect starts negotiating: Maybe that color is too loud. Maybe the composition needs to behave. Bonnard’s subtext is that the original perception is truer than the correction, because it still contains the shock of aliveness. His paintings often feel like that: domestic interiors and gardens turned incandescent, as if the light is remembering itself.
Context sharpens the intent. Bonnard straddled a moment when photography had already claimed the job of exact depiction and modern painting was deciding what it could do instead. He wasn’t a manifesto guy like some contemporaries; he was a sensualist with discipline. This line quietly rejects the academic fetish for finish while also dodging the macho myth of pure spontaneity. Speed here isn’t sloppiness. It’s preservation: get the feeling down before it fossilizes into “good painting.”
It’s advice that still lands in an era of infinite edits and undo buttons: capture the first honest version of what moved you, then you can earn the right to revise.
Quote Details
| Topic | Art |
|---|
More Quotes by Pierre
Add to List





