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Show |44 then it is part of them. You see?" I saw. It was a major lesson in both psychology and involvement. "There are tricks to all trades, " Mr. Knaphus told me. He related the story of a friend of his who had painted a portrait of a gentlemen of affluence. The man came to approve it when it was finished, but was doubtful. "I will bring my dog, " he said. "If the dog knows me, then I will pay for the painting. If he does not, I won't. " The artist was beside himself, but before the subject returned with his dog he had a divine inspiration. He rubbed the hand of the painting with a little bacon grease, and when the dog was introduced to the painting he immediately licked the hand hungrily. Needless to say, the artist got his pay. When the Art Center (W. P. A.) opened on first south and State Street I added lessons there to what I was already taking, as they were free. It was there Fill Malin became my teacher, a most capable one. I still studied with Mr. Knaphus, however, and that was the way I got a piano to fill the longing I had always for that instrument. I had been without one for the nearly fifteen years of my married life. There was an old piano in Mr. Knaphus' studio, a delapidated instrument, to be sure, with several broken keys. It was badly out of tune; some of the keys were stuck together, because Mr. Knaphus carelessly rested his paint brushes on them when he was painting, or laid them on top of the piano and they dribbled paint downward. I tried to play it |
