Needing some air, he went into the garden. ‘Ah, look at the afternoon light,’ he said, for shadows were forming dark zones in the pasture recesses, as they do in his masterpiece, ‘The Mountain.’ He went over to a small shed in the corner of the garden, the back wall of which was made of finely carved wood shingles arranged in a design. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘the trouble they took for something that could not even be seen. That is what has been lost. It was lost when workers began selling their time. Or as you say in America, when time became money.’
From ^ the 1994 NYT article, Balthus Receives a Visitor.
All This By Hand