/lit/ - Literature

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>>6971475
>>6971481

Can I have another look at this?

This song is one of the first things the public will hear in my play (if I manage to finish it and find a director who will be interested in staging it - not an easy thing to do) and I will like to make it a thing that is both beautiful and disturbing, but I am not sure if I achieved this effect.

Any opinions (the more brutally honest the better) are welcomed, be it saying what is wrong or mentioning what was well made.

Thank you all (and just to remember, the original is in Portuguese).

For those who are interested in Mark Van Doren's Shakespeare's threads I will make another when I come to my office. I don't know exactly what play analysis to post, I think it will be either A Midsummer Night Dream or Twelfth Night.

(The pic is a gift: young Audrey on top of a Pepe)

I agree with this article. And you guys?

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2015/01/the-death-of-the-artist-and-the-birth-of-the-creative-entrepreneur/383497/

Pronounce the word artist, to conjure up the image of a solitary genius. A sacred aura still attaches to the word, a sense of one in contact with the numinous. “He’s an artist,” we’ll say in tones of reverence about an actor or musician or director. “A true artist,” we’ll solemnly proclaim our favorite singer or photographer, meaning someone who appears to dwell upon a higher plane. Vision, inspiration, mysterious gifts as from above: such are some of the associations that continue to adorn the word.

Yet the notion of the artist as a solitary genius—so potent a cultural force, so determinative, still, of the way we think of creativity in general—is decades out of date. So out of date, in fact, that the model that replaced it is itself already out of date. A new paradigm is emerging, and has been since about the turn of the millennium, one that’s in the process of reshaping what artists are: how they work, train, trade, collaborate, think of themselves and are thought of—even what art is—just as the solitary-genius model did two centuries ago. The new paradigm may finally destroy the very notion of “art” as such—that sacred spiritual substance—which the older one created.

Before we thought of artists as geniuses, we thought of them as artisans. The words, by no coincidence, are virtually the same. Art itself derives from a root that means to “join” or “fit together”—that is, to make or craft, a sense that survives in phrases like the art of cooking and words like artful, in the sense of “crafty.” We may think of Bach as a genius, but he thought of himself as an artisan, a maker. Shakespeare wasn’t an artist, he was a poet, a denotation that is rooted in another word for make. He was also a playwright, a term worth pausing over. A playwright isn’t someone who writes plays; he is someone who fashions them, like a wheelwright or shipwright.