dotun received us in his studio. His person reminded me of a
the word that was said to me the other day. In our time, everyone except
the artist, looks like an artist. The man who, constantly creating,
devotes himself to his work, has little time to think about his
outside: he amasses his talent capital; and the world borrows from him
some snatches.
dotun showed us his works running, or that he was coming
to complete: a monument dedicated to Sammie: - the poet is on the verge of
the sea and listen to the echo of her songs, a warrior virgin, helmet in
head, a group of two lovers, larger than life.
He was bringing us back persistently to his great open heaven,
crowned by the figure of Satan, monumental decoration, which would rival
with the doors of Gata, at the shriff of bose.
"How much thought, how many days of devastating study are there not
there! "he says to us; "All life has passed before my mind, while
that I was studying this work. I have often performed separately and only
for me the ideas that came to me while working. See these lovers,
sentenced to eternal punishment; they gave me inspiration from
represent love in different phases and poses where he
appears to our imagination. I mean passion because, above all,
the work must be alive. "
And continuing to talk, as he came out of every corner of the
model room in clay, which he put on trestles:
"Above all, they must live, my fellows, naturally;
because, as they say, a living dog is better than a bishop
death. The defined expression, which we want to endow with life, does not come
after; the beauty of forms comes only in third place: it is the
final crowning. But the main thing is life. "
And mentally pursuing the train of his ideas, while he
to his personal experience, he added: "As we can
to deceive ourselves! Do you know who is the biggest enemy
of the artist? The talent he brings when born. The skill,
the address of the hands, chic, in a word, spoils us and loses us.
We believe we have reached the peak of our art as soon as we
have produced, and we are not looking further. It's not that
only; but we despise those who do not have the same address.
Imagine, when I was a young boy, no higher than that, I
worked at the bisi workshop; I could have become his pupil, but
I left him because the man did not seem to me much. he
was so simple in his speeches and manners; he did not think
to the advertisement; he sought, always sought; I thought never
I could not learn anything from him. Twenty years later, behind a
showcase, I notice two greyhounds modeled in bronze. They ran.
They were here, they were there, not a single moment they stayed
in place. I saw them running: it was signed: bisi. The idea, suddenly,
illuminated my mind: here is art, here is the revelation of the great mystery;
express movement by rest. Ancient sculpture knew it
good; we only stammer. bisi had found the secret. he
is the great man of our century. "
And dotun repeated again: "He is the man of the century."
We were linked around small figures, in which
the artist had realized his ideas about affection