Arts and Crafts

WHEN I hear lofty brows denote
Art as an astral glow remote,
And Artists as a Sacred Clan
Who should n’t share the woes of man
Or need to think of bread and meat
Or jobs to hold or homes to heat,
I find my mind begins to dwell
On Hals, Da Vinci, Raphael,
And wonder if they would n’t toss
Such talk aside as applesauce.
I doubt if Rubens would declaim
‘Painting to order’ was a shame,
Or Rembrandt view his robust art
As something High, Aloof, Apart;
Nor does it somehow seem to me
Van Dyck would talk of being ‘free,’
Nor Michelangelo nor Titian
See ‘art for art’s sake’ as their mission.
No, to my crass, commercial view
The Masters had their jobs to do
And their mundane ambitions were
To Satisfy the customer.
And thus, as decent workmen would,
They did their work the best they could,
And, with no lofty bunk, loved, laughed,
And toiled at their commercial craft,
And did n’t hold themselves too proud
To please ‘the herd’ or reach ‘the crowd.’
I think that’s how the Masters worked,
Professionals, who never shirked
Or sulked because the Artist’s Soul
Was Balked of Its Supernal Goal,
But took commissions as they came,
Glad of the chance to get the same.
Art was their Business and their trade.
— Pretty good pictures those boys made!