excerpt
They made art to order, for their
patrons – which were the church and the nobility. Art, as taught in the
schools, was something between an industry and a passing fad. Rui was
adamant – Ken’s art should not be touched, changed or influenced by a
teacher.
“I don’t interfere with how you draw,” he said. ‘I don’t tell you anything.
I just watch you and we talk. Your friend, Francisco – it’s the same.
Your father – it’s the same. That’s all you need.”
Ken was not convinced. His investigations led him to an art school just
outside Lisbon, not far from the village. He sent a letter but received no
response. He enlisted his father’s help in drafting another letter. This time
a response came – the school didn’t take young students. Ken should apply
again when he was eighteen.
In reply, his father packaged up some of his son’s drawings and sent
them to the school. Their evasive reply seemed to indicate they didn’t
believe an eleven-year-old boy was the author of the drawings.
Ken Sr. visited the school and after a number of meetings and lunches,
Ken was admitted. On his first day, he was surprised to find that the entire
institution was dedicated to the study of Pablo Picasso. Students were required
to learn about him and his work, and to draw and paint like him.
Ken walked home after the first day thinking, “Is that art school? Is that
what it’s all about? Why are they teaching me to paint the way someone
else paints? I’m not interested in painting like Picasso.”
On the second day he said, “This is not what I came here for. I didn’t
come here to paint like Picasso.”
“What’s wrong with Picasso?” the teacher asked.
“Personally, I think he can’t paint,” Ken said.
The teacher’s mouth dropped open. “I suppose you’re going to judge
that he can’t paint?”
Ken shrugged. “I think he’s a man who is full of very negative thoughts
and emotions. Look at his paintings – they’re brutal! Is this what is going
on inside him? Look at the women he paints! Look at how he paints
them! He’s a misogynist! I do not want to paint like Picasso. Perhaps you
should be reminded that Picasso is alive and well and painting and living
in France. I came here to learn other things.”
“What do you want to know?” the teacher asked.
“I want to know the technical things. I want to know about different
materials – how do they work? Once I know how to manipulate the materials,
I will decide what is what and no one is going to decide for me. How
on earth can anyone teach someone about what is in their souls or what
could potentially be there?
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 