I am fascinated by art history. I find it incredibly interesting to study artists of the past and the historical context in which they lived and worked. Who influenced them? What was happening in the world at the time? What were their limitations?
Something in me came to life when I read the poem below for the first time . It sparked a curiosity that still drives me today in my unrelenting pursuit to learn about the artists that came before us. I’d like to share it with you in the hopes that it will inspire you and initiate, or reinstitute, the appreciation of human creativity.
A Worker Reads History by Bertolt Brecht
Who built the seven gates of Thebes?
The books are filled with names of kings.
Was it the kings who hauled the craggy blocks of stone?
And Babylon, so many times destroyed.
Who built the city up each time? In which of Lima's houses,
That city glittering with gold, lived those people who built it?
In the evening when the Chinese wall was finished
Where did the masons go? Imperial Rome
Is full of arcs of triumph. Byzantium lives in song.
Were all her dwellings palaces? And even in Atlantis of the legend
The night the seas rushed in,
The drowning men still bellowed for their slaves.
Young Alexander conquered India.
He alone?
Caesar beat the Gauls.
Was there not even a cook in his army?
Phillip of Spain wept as his fleet
was sunk and destroyed. Were there no other tears?
Frederick the Greek triumphed in the Seven Years War.
Who triumphed with him?
Each page a victory
At whose expense the victory ball?
Every ten years a great man,
Who paid the piper?
So many particulars.
So many questions.
