Chapter 4 4

Ciara's Perspective:

Professor Woodley's words echoed in my mind: "Miss Cactus, since you have already given us a piece of your mind, why won't you go first?" At first, I wanted to look away, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. It seemed like he was trying to embarrass me even more. But, I was ready. I wasn't going to let him see me fail.

"Sure," I replied confidently, locking eyes with him. With his arms folded across his broad chest and weight on his right leg, he signaled for me to speak. "Ames-Lewis argues that artists during the early Renaissance, such as Da Vinci and Raphael, were involved in a rapid intellectualization of artistic activity. It's a mix of classical and literary influences along with technical advancements that propelled visual arts, especially painting and sculpture. This created a sophisticated elite who could rightfully claim the elevated social status of practitioners in established liberal arts."

I expected him to comment on my statement, but he gave no feedback "What else?"

"Each chapter considers a unique aspect of the intellectual life of the artist. For example, chapter 2 explores the education of the artist, which although was not generally classical, it gradually needed some familiarity with classical languages and themes. By writing treatises, biographies, poetry, and other literary works, by seeking contacts with humanists and literary men, and by investigating the arts of the classical past, Renaissance artists honed their social graces and broadened their intellectual horizons. They also experienced a growing creative confidence and self-awareness that was expressed in novel self-portraits, works created solely to demonstrate pictorial skills, and monuments to commemorate themselves after death."

Dr Woodley was silent. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest.

"That's all very well Ciara, but I want to hear your opinion. If I wanted a summary of the paper, I'd google it."

The rest of the students chuckled around me. I didn't think the situation was funny at all, but apparently everyone else did. They were just happy it wasn't them on the chopping block. My thoughts scattered; my hands started to sweat. I looked down at my notes for salvation, but nothing helped.

"Well?" He insisted, sounding impatient.

I had to say something, anything. Better to say something stupid than to just stand there in silence.

"I guess I could say that what I took from this paper is how so many different factors can shape an artist. Their environment, education, experiences... As we all know, the Renaissance was marked by humanism, which placed the human being at the center of all things. This new thinking became manifest in art, architecture, politics, science and literature. In other words, this belief of placing humans as the center of it all made it so that art itself was the product of artists, but it also shaped artists themselves. That's why I think the Renaissance is so fascinating: you can no longer separate the art from the artist. An artist's education, upbringing, and experiences is the art itself."

He smiled for the first time that morning. It was a grim, granted, but nevertheless, a smile.

"You can no longer separate the art from the artist..." He repeated my words, letting them linger in the air theatrically. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the reason why Art History is so important. The art you will produce in your lifetime will be a direct reflection of your influences, of your studies, of your experiences. How can you become great artists if you don't know what the greats before you have done? Perhaps you'll be inspired by most of them. You'll finally be able to see the artist behind the canvas, what and who inspired them, what myriad of variables lead them to create the art they did."

The lesson went on and Dr. Woodley didn't pay much attention to me again. I felt like I did a good job commenting the paper, but he didn't give me any sort of verbal or non-verbal reassurance.

At the end of the lesson I packed up my things and followed Nia down the stairs of the amphitheater.

"Oh shit, Dr Woodley asked me to speak to him at the end." I said to her.

"Good luck girl. When you leave text me and we'll have lunch together."

I nodded, making my way in his direction. There were a few students queuing up to speak to him, so I just waited for my turn. As each student left, my heartbeat accelerated.

When the last student left, closing the door behind him, I was left in the room alone with Professor Woodley. He was packing his things, looking down at his desk. I could smell his cologne from where I was standing. "Excuse me Professor Woodley, you asked to speak to me at the end of the lecture." I stated, trying to keep my voice straight.

He gazed up at me, his big brown eyes burning through his elegant, black-framed glasses. He took his hand to his beard which was impeccably trimmed and leaned back on his chair.

"I don't think I need to tell you that your behavior earlier in the class was unacceptable." He said sternly, although he kept his voice low. "This isn't high school Miss Lotus, this is University, and when a teacher asks you a question you answer it. I hope we won't have any more problems from here on out."

I kept my head low, taking the reprimand. "I apologize, Sir."

He smiled, not showing his teeth.

"It's easier for me to accept your apology after your successful participation in class." He added, closing his laptop and standing up from his chair. He suddenly became much taller than me, and I instinctively took a step away from him. "Tell me, Miss Lotus, what are you studying?"

"Archeology and Painting," I answered shortly. Why was my chest beating more erratically than before?

Dr Woodley clicked his tongue. "I should have figured. A sassy, French painter... You're representing your stereotype fairly well, I must say."

I could feel my cheeks turn bright red. Why did he feel so entitled to say these things to me?

"Well, and you're letting down the stereotype of the old, boring, serious College professor."