An ARTIST according to me is a person who has gone beyond the defined terms of logic, established procedures or even principles; and therefrom had made man conscious of territories beyond the explained. It could be in any field, including science. For example,Max Planck was not merely a Physicist, but an Artist. An Artist had to explain or even if he is not able to explain the phenomenon, he should show to an intelligent mind a phenomenon hitherto unseen, much less explained.
But there is one area of Activity, where the very nature of the activity precludes the possibility of a third party. That is the relationship between the Artist and his instrument.
The Stradivarius was played by many musicians, but it was this Artist, who was able to draw the sounds that had not yet been imbedded in the critic’s consciousness. The Critic was having a prejudged mind looking for established patterns and when such pre-established sounds were produced in the accepted form, he made himself the judge of that music.
But the Artist who played this Stradivarius, was no ordinary Musician. He was an Artist. He was looking for sounds that were emanating from his Stradivarius that were not noticed, even not noticeable. They were not new sounds, but merely sounds that had escaped notice in the preoccupation of observing the existing and established sounds.
The Artist, did not play his Stradivarius in public. It was a spiritual symphony between his soul and the Stradivarius. He did not design the Stradivarius, nor could he have ever made himself accessible to the Stradivarius. It was the longing of his soul, that led him to the Stradivarius, or so he believed. It was beyond him, to contemplate that he through his own efforts, could have ever brought himself near the Stradivarius. It was placed in his hands.
When he held her between his chin and his palm on the one side and the draw of the bow over her from the other side, he heard sounds that he had never heard. Between those, established notes were variations, when augmented in his consciousness he was feeling, an echo of his reverberating soul. He heard himself in his silence. A skill imaginatively commingled, and drawing the inaccessible echoes of his soul.
She was in his hands, surrendered to his mastery and forgetful of her self. A dreamful state of peace. A sound stagnanttill now, was being drawn out of her & was wafting the fragrance of her soul. She was no more hearing herself, she was lost in the ecstasy of the Artist. The Artist was no more playing his Stradivarius, he was emphasizing the hitherto unemphasized notes. She was reveling herself in the frenzy of the new sounds that she was producing out of the welling eruption of his skill.
She finally felt that all the hands that had played upon her and the stained music produced, were washed away in the flow of the new notes. She transformed herself into a VIRGIN in his hands. The earlier music had been drowned in the Artist’s consciousness. She could never be the same again.
A VIRGIN, IN AN ARTIST’S CONSCIOUSNESS.
NO AMOUNT OF BOWING OR FINGERING COULD MAKE HER FEEL THE USED-TYPE EVER AGAIN.
SHE COULD NEVER ABANDON HER CONSCIOUSNESS, EXCEPT IN HIS HANDS!!!