An Essay on Art

[Rob C]

Hi Strogg, and thanks for the compliment. I was lucky. In high school I had an English composition teacher, Elsie Harper, who wouldn't take any crap from her students. Although I wasn't terribly thrilled with her approach in those days I wish now that I could give her a hug and a kiss. She gave me -- actually pounded into me -- a skill that's carried me through my life and brought me many promotions. There are way too few people like Elsie out there. Wish we had more.

But you forgot the essential bit: first you need the gift of something to develop.

I honestly believe a natural gift is the basis of all capable writers, painters/pencil artists, sculptors, photographers and most certainly, musicians.

And whilst we're at it, successful salesmen of all types.

Were it not so, any old workshop should be able to produce a genius out of anybody who pays the entrance fee.

[RSL]

I agree with you 100%, Rob, but I also think a lot of talent goes to waste because the people with the talent never run into an Elsie Harper. My mother was a high school English teacher, in a different school system but she knew Elsie. My mom once asked Elsie how I was doing and Elsie said I had talent but I was an “intellectual bum.” I can’t think of a more accurate description of me in high school. Same thing was true when I was at University of Michigan. I used to cut classes, hang out in the Men’s Union (that was before political correctness ruined the campuses) and write poetry. That all came to an end with the Korean war when I decided I’d rather fly over the rice paddies than slog through them.

[rabanito]

Recently found this old thread.

Thanks StroggCore for bringing this essay back to life.
I missed it completely

Thanks, Rob. But I don't agree that I should learn Italian. I sometimes read English translations of librettos, and — let's face it — the stories in most grand opera are ridiculous, stilted, silly. At the same time, the music is magnificent. I want those voices to be musical instruments, not story-tellers. To me, the finest musical instrument in the world is the human voice.

While the stories ARE silly, the lyrics of the arias are usually pure poetry, part of the music, I'd say. It's in my opinion a gain to understand them
 
Dai campi, dai prati
Che innonda la notte,
Dai queti sentier
Ritorno e di pace,
Di calma profonda
Son pieno, di sacro mister.
 
Le torve passioni del core
S'assonnano in placido oblio,
Mi ferve soltanto
L'amore dell'uomo!
L'amore di Dio.
 
Ah! Dai campi, dai prati
Ritorno e verso all'Evangel
Mi sento attratto,
M'accingo a meditar.

Of course , poetry is what gets lost in translation

Thanks for the nice essay, Russ. And for making me listen this aria again 

[RSL]

Thanks, Rab. As I'm sure you saw when you read the essay, the little aria, "Dai Compi, Dai Prati" is one of my all-time favorites. I wish I could touch the poetry, but of course I can't. The music is. . . nothing I can say about it will explain how it affects me.

[BellKat]

Thank you for your essays. They are easy and interesting to read. I think that to write such essays, it is not enough to be just a smart and educated person, you need to have the talent of a writer. I admit that being a writer is my childhood dream. But the teachers didn't see this talent in me. And I will still leave my mark as a writer in this world and create a fascinating blog with the help of the writing service textroyal.com. I hope to be successful in this. You inspired me. If you can give me some advice on this topic, I would appreciate it.