I met the most amazing artist on one of my walks through Central Park this year. I don’t think I ever got to ask him for his name. But I did give him two dollars. Then, I asked him for amazing song that he was playing. It was the prelude to Bach’s first Cello Suite, which has since become my favorite classical song. The acoustics of that tunnel made for the richest cello tone I had ever heard since. His whole posture in the middle of the tunnel made for a beautiful scene. So, I asked him if I could take a photo of him. He said, “of course.”
I normally get nervous when asking people to be the subjects of my photos, and this incident was no different. I bungled so many shots. I went from corner to corner looking for the right angle to capture the musical beauty that I had just heard, and nothing was right, until I took this shot. The body of the cello and the artist’s body seems to fade together in the black silhouette. The musician and the instrument became one. I then went up to him and thanked him. He said, “no problem.” I stayed for another song, and then I walked away. I learned from this encounter that artists should never be alone. The best art comes from sharing, and even the artist is a product of sharing. He can play music because of the music that others played before him, and I can only take photographs because of the photos I’ve studied before, because of the people I ask.
Sometimes, I get sad because I think of my prospective artist’s life. I take photos, but what I really want to be is a novelist. And I have great fears of where this life-road will take me, the greatest being the long hours I will have to spend alone. Will I be sane when I come out of the journey? Sometimes, I feel forsaken by the world, quarantined in my room writing the pitiful novels that I have in my mind. Then, I remember that I do have a community. All of my good friends know that I want to be a writer. And they check up on me. Heck, even my Asian parents check up on me and how my writing is going. I have a community backing me up. And I get to tell them how much I appreciate them. Thank you, Macaulay Arts Seminar class, and Professor Kingsley. You guys keep me sane, keep me working, keep me dreaming.
