Dmitry Shostakovich (1906–1975)
Shostakovich’s contemporaries do not recall seeing him working, at least not in the traditional sense. The Russian composer was able to conceptualize a new work entirely in his head, and then write it down with extreme rapidity—if uninterrupted, he could average twenty or thirty pages of score a day, making virtually no corrections as he went.
But this feat was apparently preceded by hours or days of mental composition—during which he “appeared to be a man of great inner tensions,” the musicologist Alexei Ikonnikov observed, “with his continually moving, ‘speaking’ hands, which were never at rest.”
Shostakovich himself was afraid that perhaps he worked too fast. “I worry about the lightning speed with which I compose,” he confessed in a letter to a friend. Undoubtedly this is bad. One shouldn’t compose as quickly as I do. Composition is a serious process, and in the words of a ballerina friend of mine, “You can’t keep going at a gallop.” I compose with diabolical speed and can’t stop myself.… It is exhausting, rather unpleasant, and at the end of the day you lack any confidence in the result. But I can’t rid myself of the bad habit.
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #shostakovich @masoncurrey
2023, Ballpoint pen on 5” x 8” acid free Moleskine sketchbook paper, Adobe Photoshop. First sketchbook drawing of 2024! Based on a photo of a model in a makeup company advert.
Done 2017 with lead pencils on 11x17 bristol paper. just wanted to draw some image with some story to it cuz usually my drawing do not look like it has stories. Original art is up for sale $60 USD (shipping fee will apply) email me jungmeister4@yahoo.com
Also I have my 2023 Wall calendar up for sale $19.95 with my artworks through Artwanted.com art community website. Click or copy / paste the link below and would be appreciated if you can support me on the calaneder.
https://www.artwanted.com/artist.cfm?ArtID=115637&Tab=Calendar
Skylight from Dialogues in Paradise by Can Xue.
The light shrank back into two dots. A dark shadow brushed by, a clumsy night bird that shrieked and swooped toward the skylight, its huge wings tapping the roof fiercely, echoing like thunder.
