Chapter XII

Special Training

It is a very superficial conception of workmanship which sets it in

conflict with originality. There is often an inherent antagonism between

the impulse for freedom and spontaneity which is characteristic of genius,

and a conventional, hard-and-fast rule or method of securing certain

technical results; but there is no antagonism between the boldest

originality and the most complete mastery of craftsmanship. There is,

rather, a deep and vital relationship between the two. For every art is a

language, and to secure power and beauty and adequacy of expression a man

must command all the secrets and resources of the form of speech which he

has chosen. The power of the great artist rests, in the last analysis,

upon the freedom with which he uses his material; and this freedom does

not come by nature; it comes by training. It is fatal to the highest

success to have the command of a noble language and to have nothing to say

in it; it is equally fatal to have noble thoughts and to lack the power of

giving them expression. Technical skill is not, therefore, an exterior,

mechanical possession; it is the fitting of tools and material to heart

and mind; it is the fruit of character; it is the evidence of sincerity,

thoroughness, truthfulness. In his characteristically suggestive comment

upon the Japanese artist Hokusai, Mr. John La Farge gives an interesting

account of the training established and enforced in the school of the

Kanos, a family of painters which survived the vicissitudes of more than

four centuries. The course of study in a Kano school covered at least ten

years, and the average age of graduation was thirty. The rules of conduct

were rigid; the manner of life simple to the point of bareness; the

discipline of work severe and unbroken. During the first year and a half

of study the pupil devoted his entire time to copying certain famous works

in the possession of the school; making, in the first instance, a copy

from the picture set before him, and then reproducing his own copy again

and again until every stroke and detail was thoroughly comprehended and

mastered. In the course of eighteen months sixty pictures were studied

with this searching thoroughness; the secrets of skill in each were

uncovered, the sources of beauty or power discerned; and the eye and hand

of the pupil gained intelligence, quickness, penetration. Month after

month passed in what seemed to be a monotony of mechanical imitation; but

in this arduous and literal reproduction of the skill of others was laid

the sure foundations of individual skill. This devout attention to methods

secured for a considerable number of men a technical expertness for which

we look, as a rule, only in the work of the greatest artists. The result

of this training was not mechanical skill, but truth and freshness of

observation. The signature of the artist in question reveals not an

imitative but an original nature, not a faculty absorbed in accuracy but

in passion for expression: "Hokusai, the Old Man Crazy about Painting."

The arduous patience of these Oriental students of painting bore its fruit

in a tradition of skill which was in itself an immense stimulus to the

aspiring and ambitious; it established standards of craftsmanship which

made the possession of expert knowledge a necessity on the part of every

one who seriously attempted to practice the art. Mr. La Farge comments

upon the level of superior artistic culture which these Japanese artists

had attained. They had advanced their common skill so far that a superior

man began at a great height of attainment, and was compelled to exhibit

power of a very rare order before he could claim any kind of prominence

among his fellows.

The establishment of such a standard in any art, profession, or occupation

has the immense educational value of making clear to the student, at the

very beginning of his career, the prime importance of mastering in detail

every part of the work which he has undertaken to do. There is no place in

the modern working world for the sloven, the indifferent, or the

unskilled; no one can hope for any genuine success who fails to give

himself the most thorough technical preparation, the most complete special

education. Good intentions go for nothing, and industry is thrown away, if

one cannot infuse a high degree of skill into his work. The man of medium

skill depends upon fortunate conditions for success; he cannot command it,

nor can he keep it. In the fierce competition of the day the trained man

has all the advantages on his side; the untrained man invites all the

tragic possibilities of industrial and economic failure. He is always at

the mercy of conditions. To know every detail, to gain an insight into

every secret, to learn every method, to secure every kind of skill, are

the prime necessities of success in any art, craft, or trade. No time is

too long, no study too hard, no discipline too severe for the attainment

of complete familiarity with one's work and complete ease and skill in the

doing of it. As a man values his working life, he must be willing to pay

the highest price of success in it,--the price which severe training

exacts.

The external prosperity which is called success is of value because it

evidences, as a rule, thoroughness and ability in the man who secures it,

and because it supplies the ease of body and of mind which is essential to

the fullest and most effective putting forth of one's power; and the sane

man, even while he subordinates it to higher things, never entirely

ignores or neglects success. The possession of skill is to-day the

inexorable condition of securing this outward prosperity; and, as a rule,

the greater a man's skill the more enduring his success. But skill has

other and deeper uses and ends. Thoroughness and adequacy in the doing of

one's work are the evidences of the presence of a moral conception in the

worker's mind; they are the witnesses to the pressure of his conscience on

his work. Slovenly, careless, and indifferent work is dishonest and

untruthful; the man who is content to do less than the best he is capable

of doing for any kind of compensation--money, reputation, influence--is an

immoral man. He violates a fundamental law of life by accepting that which

he has not earned.

Skill in one's art, profession, or trade is conscience applied; it is

honesty, veracity, and fidelity using the eye, the voice, and the hand to

reveal what lies in the worker's purpose and spirit. To become an artist

in dealing with tools and materials is not a matter of choice or

privilege; it is a moral necessity; for a man's heart must be in his

skill, and a man's soul in his craftsmanship.

Essays on Work and Culture · 第 12 / 25 章