阅读一文本(全）7.Art for Heart’s Sake

7 Art for Heart’s Sake为了心脏而艺术 Keith Koppel, private duty nurse to the extraordinarily wealthy Collis P. Ellsworth, was glad to leave his patient’s room to answer the door. He had had a tiring morning trying to get Ellsworth to cooperate in his own recovery. As soon as Koppel discovered that the caller was Ellsworth’s doctor, he began to complain. “I can’t do a thing with him,” he told Dr.Caswell. “He won’t take his juice. He doesn’t want me to read to him. He hates listening to the radio or watching TV. He doesn’t like anything.” Actually, he did like something: his business. The problem was that while he was still a fabulously wealthy man, he had recently begun to make big mistakes. He insisted on buying companies at very high prices, only to watch them fail or go bankrupt. 凯斯.科佩尔听见了门铃声，他很想借机离开这个房间。作为巨富克里斯.普.埃尔斯沃思的私人护士，他花了整整一个早晨的时间，试图说服这位富翁配合医生的治疗，但是没有成功。当他看到来访者是埃尔斯沃思的医生卡斯韦尔时，便开始向医生抱怨说： “我拿他一点办法也没有。他不喝果汁，不要我念书给他听，他讨厌听收音机，讨厌看电视。 他什么都不喜欢。” 实际上，埃尔斯沃思唯一喜欢的就是他的生意。问题是：虽然他仍是一位拥有着令人难以置信财产的巨富，但近年来他已经在生意上开始频频出现大错了。他总是高价买入一些公司，结果眼看着他们经营不善或破产。 Ellsworth was in pretty good shape for a 76-year-old , but his business failures were ruinous to his health. He had suffered his last. Heart attack after his disastrous purchase of a small railroad in Iowa. The health problem he suffered before that came about because of excitement over the failure of a chain of grocery stores, stores which he had purchases had to be liquidated at a great sacrifice to both his pocketbook and his health. They were beginning to have serious effects. Dr. Caswell had done his homework, however. He realized that he needed to interest the old man in something which would take his mind off his problem and redirect his energies. His answer was art. The doctor entered his patient’s room. 对于一位七十六岁的老人来说，埃尔斯沃思先生的身体还很不错，但是生意场上的失败却在影响着他的健康。他上一次心脏病发作是在衣阿华州倒霉地买了一条铁路支线之后。在此之前他的心脏病复发，是因为一家食品杂货连锁店的经营不善而使他情绪上受到了刺激，这家商店是他在通货膨胀时期购买的。最近他购买的公司、商店看来都得清理变卖，这时他的经济利益和身体健康都是一个巨大的损失，其后果十分严重。 “I hear that you haven’t been obeying orders,” the doctor said. “Who’s giving me orders at my time of life?” The doctor drew up his chair and sat down close to the old man. “I’ve got a suggestion for you,” he said quietly. ” 因此，卡斯韦尔医生已经做了一些积极的考虑，认为应使埃尔斯沃思先生的大脑从生意的困境中解脱出来，把他的精力转移到其它地方。艺术便 是最佳选择。医生走进了这位病人的房间。 “我听说你直不听从医生的吩咐，” 医生责备道。 “我这么大年纪了，谁还能吩咐我？” 医生拉过一把椅子，挨近老人坐了下来。 “我倒对你有个建议 Old Ellsworth looked suspiciously over his eyeglasses. “What is it, more medicine, more automobile rides, more foolishness to keep me away form my office? “How would you like to take up art?” The doctor had his stethoscope ready in case the suddenness of the suggestion proved too much for the patient’s heart. But the old man’s answer was a strong “foolishness!” ‘I don’t mean seriously,” said the doctor, relieved that nothing had happened. “Just play around with chald and crayons. It’ll be fun.” But after several more scowls, which were met with gentle persuasion by the wise doctor, Ellsworth gave in. he would, at least, try it for a while. Caswell went to his friend Judson Livingston, head of the Atlantic Art Institute, and explained the situation. Livingston introduced Frank Swain. Swain was an 18-year-old art student, quite good; who needed money to continue his education. He would tutor Ellsworth one afternoon a week for ten dollars an hour. Their first lesson was on the next afternoon. It was less than an overwhelming success. Swain began by arranging some paper and crayons on the table. “Let’s try to draw that vase over there,” he suggested. “What for?” It’s only a bowl with some blue stains on it. Or are they green?” “Try it, Mr. Ellsworth, please.” “Umph!” The old man took a piece of crayon in a shaky hand and drew several lines. He drew several more and then connected these crudely. “There it is, young man,” he said with a tone of satisfaction. “Such foolishness!” Frank Swain was patient. He needed the ten dollars. “If you want to draw, you will have to look at what you’re drawing, sir.” Ellsworth looked. “Gosh, it’s rather pretty. I never noticed it before.” Koppel came in with the announcement that his patient had done enough for the first lesson. “Oh, it’s pineapple juice again,” Ellsworth said. Swain left, not sure if he would be invited back. When the art student came the following week, there was a drawing on the table that had a slight resemblance to a vase. The wrinkles deepened at the corners of the old gentleman’s eyes as he asked. “Well, what do you think of it?” “Not bad, sir,” answered Swain. “But it’s not quite straight.” “Gosh,” old Ellsworth smiled, “I see. The halves don’t match.” He added a few lines with a shaking hand and colored the open spaces blue, like a child playing with a picture book. Then he looked towards the door. “Listen, young man,” he whispered, “I want to ask you something before old Pineapple Juice comes back.” “Yes, sir,” answered Swain politely. “I was thinking--- do you have the time to come twice a week, or perhaps three times?” As the weeks went by, Swain’s visits grew more frequent. When Dr. Caswell called, Ellsworth would talk about the graceful lines of the chimney or the rich variety of color in a bowl of fruit. The treatment was working perfectly. No more trips downtown to his office for the purpose of buying some business that was to fail later. No more crazy financial plans to try the strength of his tired old heart. Art was a complete cure for him. The doctor thought it safe to allow Ellsworth to visit the Metropolitan Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, and other exhibitions with Swain. An entirely new word opened up its mysteries to him. The old man showed a tremendous curiosity in the art galleries and in the painters who exhibited in them. How were the galleries run? Who selected the pictures for the exhibitions? An idea was forming in is brain. When the late spring began to cover the fields and gardens with color, Ellsworth painted a simply horrible picture which he called “Trees Dressed in White”. Then he made a surprising announcement. He was going to exhibit the picture in the summer show at the Lathrop Gallery. The summer show at the Lathrop Gallery was the biggest art exhibition of the year---in quality, if not in size. The lifetime dream of every important artist in the United States was a prize from this exhibition. Among the paintings of this distinguished group of artists, Ellsworth was now going to place his “Trees Dressed in White”, which resembled a handful of salad dressing thrown violently against the side of a house. “If the newspapers hear about this, everyone in town will be laughing at Mr. Ellsworth. We’ve got to stop him,” said Koppel. “No,” warned the doctor. “We can’t interfere with him now and take a chance of running down all the good work which we have done.” To the complete surprise of al three--- and especially Swain--- “Trees Dressed in White” was accepted for the Lathrop show. Not only was Mr. Ellsworth crazy, thought Koppel, but the Lathrop Gallery was crazy, too. Fortunately, the painting was hung in an inconspicuous place, where it did not draw any special notice or comment. During the curse of the exhibition, the old man kept on taking lessons, seldom mentioning his picture. He was unusually cheerful. Every time Swain entered the room, he found Ellsworth laughing to himself. Maybe Koppel was right. The old man was crazy. But it seemed equally strange that the Lathrop committee should encourage his craziness by accepting his picture. Two days before the close of the exhibition, a special messenger brought a long, official-looking envelope to Mr. Ellsworth while Swain, Koppel, and the doctor were in the room. “Read it to me,” said the old man. “My eyes are tired from painting.” It gives the Lathrop Gallery great pleasure to announce that the First Prize of $1000 has been awarded to Collis P. Ellsworth for his painting “Trees Dressed in White”. Swain and Koppel were so surprised that they could not say a word. Dr. Caswell, exercising his professional self-control with a supreme effort, I didn’t expect such great news. But, but---well, now, you’ll have to admit that art is much more satisfying than business.” “Art has nothing to do with it,” said the old man sharply. “I bought the Lathrop Gallery last month.”