Art for Heart’s SakeKeith Koppel

Art for Heart’s SakeKeith 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.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.“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.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.”4.Who was Frank Swain? How did he get the job as a tutor?
【正确答案】：Frank Swain was an 18-year-old art student, quite good and needed money to continue his education. He was recommended to be the patient’s tutor.He was recommended by the head of the Atlantic Art Institute.
【题目解析】：P78