第 9 节
作者:
青词 更新:2021-08-14 15:19 字数:9322
her surroundings go to seed; not from humbleness of mind or an
overwhelming sense of her own unworthiness; but in pure complacent
conceit。
A criticism to which the highly gifted lay themselves open from those
who do not understand them; is their love of praise; the critics failing to
grasp the fact that this passion for measuring one's self with others; like
the gad…fly pursuing poor Io; never allows a moment's repose in the green
pastures of success; but goads them constantly up the rocky sides of
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endeavor。 It is not that they love flattery; but that they need approbation as
a counterpoise to the dark moments of self…abasement and as a sustaining
aid for higher flights。
Many years ago I was present at a final sitting which my master;
Carolus Duran; gave to one of my fair compatriots。 He knew that the lady
was leaving Paris on the morrow; and that in an hour; her husband and his
friends were coming to see and criticise the portrait … always a terrible
ordeal for an artist。
To any one familiar with this painter's moods; it was evident that the
result of the sitting was not entirely satisfactory。 The quick breathing; the
impatient tapping movement of the foot; the swift backward springs to
obtain a better view; so characteristic of him in moments of doubt; and
which had twenty years before earned him the name of LE DANSEUR
from his fellow…copyists at the Louvre; betrayed to even a casual observer
that his discouragement and discontent were at boiling point。
The sound of a bell and a murmur of voices announced the entrance of
the visitors into the vast studio。 After the formalities of introduction had
been accomplished the new…comers glanced at the portrait; but uttered
never a word。 From it they passed in a perfectly casual manner to an
inspection of the beautiful contents of the room; investigating the
tapestries; admiring the armor; and finally; after another glance at the
portrait; the husband remarked: 〃You have given my wife a jolly long neck;
haven't you?〃 and; turning to his friends; began laughing and chatting in
English。
If vitriol had been thrown on my poor master's quivering frame; the
effect could not have been more instantaneous; his ignorance of the
language spoken doubtless exaggerating his impression of being ridiculed。
Suddenly he turned very white; and before any of us had divined his
intention he had seized a Japanese sword lying by and cut a dozen gashes
across the canvas。 Then; dropping his weapon; he flung out of the room;
leaving his sitter and her friends in speechless consternation; to wonder
then and ever after in what way they had offended him。 In their opinions;
if a man had talent and understood his business; he should produce
portraits with the same ease that he would answer dinner invitations; and if
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they paid for; they were in no way bound also to praise; his work。 They
were entirely pleased with the result; but did not consider it necessary to
tell him so; no idea having crossed their minds that he might be in one of
those moods so frequent with artistic natures; when words of approbation
and praise are as necessary to them; as the air we breathe is to us; mortals
of a commoner clay。
Even in the theatrical and operatic professions; those hotbeds of
conceit; you will generally find among the 〃stars〃 abysmal depths of
discouragement and despair。 One great tenor; who has delighted New York
audiences during several winters past; invariably announces to his
intimates on arising that his 〃voice has gone;〃 and that; in consequence he
will 〃never sing again;〃 and has to be caressed and cajoled back into some
semblance of confidence before attempting a performance。 This same
artist; with an almost limitless repertoire and a reputation no new
successes could enhance; recently risked all to sing what he considered a
higher class of music; infinitely more fatiguing to his voice; because he
was impelled onward by the ideal that forces genius to constant
improvement and development of its powers。
What the people who meet these artists occasionally at a private
concert or behind the scenes during the intense strain of a representation;
take too readily for monumental egoism and conceit; is; the greater part of
the time; merely the desire for a sustaining word; a longing for the
stimulant of praise。
All actors and singers are but big children; and must be humored and
petted like children when you wish them to do their best。 It is necessary
for them to feel in touch with their audiences; to be assured that they are
not falling below the high ideals formed for their work。
Some winters ago a performance at the opera nearly came to a
standstill because an all…conquering soprano was found crying in her
dressing…room。 After many weary moments of consolation and questioning;
it came out that she felt quite sure she no longer had any talent。 One of the
other singers had laughed at her voice; and in consequence there was
nothing left to live for。 A half…hour later; owing to judicious 〃treatment;〃
she was singing gloriously and bowing her thanks to thunders of applause。
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Rather than blame this divine discontent that has made man what he is
to…day; let us glorify and envy it; pitying the while the frail mortal vessels
it consumes with its flame。 No adulation can turn such natures from their
goal; and in the hour of triumph the slave is always at their side to whisper
the word of warning。 This discontent is the leaven that has raised the
whole loaf of dull humanity to better things and higher efforts; those
privileged to feel it are the suns that illuminate our system。 If on these
luminaries observers have discovered spots; it is well to remember that
these blemishes are but the defects of their qualities; and better far than the
total eclipse that shrouds so large a part of humanity in colorless
complacency。
It will never be known how many master…pieces have been lost to the
world because at the critical moment a friend has not been at hand with the
stimulant of sympathy and encouragement needed by an overworked;
straining artist who was beginning to lose confidence in himself; to soothe
his irritated nerves with the balm of praise; and take his poor aching head
on a friendly shoulder and let him sob out there all his doubt and
discouragement。
So let us not be niggardly or ungenerous in meting out to struggling
fellow…beings their share; and perchance a little more than their share of
approbation and applause; poor enough return; after all; for the pleasure
their labors have procured us。 What adequate compensation can we mete
out to an author for the hours of delight and self…forgetfulness his talent
has brought to us in moments of loneliness; illness; or grief? What can pay
our debt to a painter who has fixed on canvas the face we love?
The little return that it is in our power to make for all the joy these
gifted fellow…beings bring into our lives is (closing our eyes to minor
imperfections) to warmly applaud them as they move upward; along their
stony path。
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CHAPTER 8 … Slouch
I SHOULD like to see; in every school…room of our growing country;
in every business office; at the railway stations; and on street corners; large
placards placed with 〃Do not slouch〃 printed thereon in distinct and
imposing characters。 If ever there was a tendency that needed ni