February 1

Icarus: (knocking on the window) Good morning!

Daedalus: Why, good morning. Come in. It's cold out there. What are you doing out this early? And on such a morning.

I: (shivering) Oh I was just out for a walk, and saw signs of life in the greenhouse, so I thought I would say hello. Working on your flowers?

D: Yes, just trying to give these buds an even chance in an inhospitable world. My, that must have been some walk. So … something is troubling you?

I: As a matter of fact, I've been busy being humbled by the world. Humbled and a bit confused.

D: This is probably a good thing! How so?

I: Well I was quite taken with my experience at the Renoir exhibit; it was clear, for example, that The Skiff was a magnificent painting.

D: There is nothing wrong with that.

I: No, but I began to think about what makes some paintings better than others, and then I began to think more about what makes some pieces better than others. For example, why is Beethoven a great composer—better than, say, Cherubini?

D: Yes …

I: And I began to ask friends, and teachers.

D: (knowingly) Good. And?

I: At first people explained patiently that Beethoven was more inventive than Cherubini, more dramatic, that his compositions were more exciting, more interesting, that they had interesting textures, attractive passages—artful use of harmony. Some people said they were emotionally rich, they had compelling stories, they were expressive, they were convincing.