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Talent

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Talent

Many years ago, at the dawn of the Humor Propaganda Center and the unforgettable workshops that comedians received at ISA, I witnessed a confession that I still remember. In an acting class, an aspiring student asked the young and famous writer if he thought he had the same talent as the famous American screenwriter, film director and actor Woody Allen.

The interviewed friend, known for his complex nature but great talent, answered honestly and unconditionally:

– The only difference that exists between Woody Allen and me in terms of creative ingenuity is that he was born and lives in New York, and I live in Havana.

At the time, we all thought it was a bit of an irritable and smug response. With time and some experience, I was able to see that my writer friend (who became increasingly creative, although he continued and continues to live in Havana) was not entirely wrong. Today I agree with him.

This is not a matter of neo-liberal, pro-colonial thought, and I am not a forerunner of the theory of geographic fatalism; and when I speak of talent, I do not mean the abilities and abilities of those “creators” who discovered what or for whom they should sing, paint or write, and were filled with eternal “talent”. It happens every day in every country in the world. I mean universal creation. Designing and creating a work with a niche in history in the style of Beethoven, Mozart, Da Vinci, Dickens, Joyce, Wilde, Shakespeare or Cervantes… although we know about the latter that in addition to being the father of the Spanish language, he was also a soldier and a famous duelist, that is, it was not easy for him.

To illustrate my hypothesis about the relationship between environment and talent, let’s take the scientist you like the most. That he lives in a small room in Centro Habana, Habana Vieja, Cerro… or another municipality in the country that is not a residential or frost zone. The aforementioned art connoisseurs cannot travel abroad from time to time, because otherwise the magic is lost. I’ll put in Mozart. I thought about Beethoven, but he was deaf, and in this case, ears that don’t listen and a heart that doesn’t feel.

Mozart gets up early because he did not sleep because of the intense heat. It has no air conditioning, the fan is broken, and the piece costs… a finger, but you need it to play the piano. Despite the bad night, a topic was spinning in his head that could have been a complete success, he even thought of calling it Magical flute, dedicated to flute bread, which now costs 70 pesos, but is cheaper than private individuals and drivers.

Gas in all its splendor, but he had no coffee left. He’s making tea out of banana peels (you should take advantage of that), and when he’s about to sit down to write, the neighbor knocks on the door three times and yells at him: Wilfredoooooo, the eggs are here! Mozart, disputes between creativity and a possible dinner. The second option wins.

The whole morning has passed, and the eggs are already in hand. It’s still noon. After eating a juicy dinner soaked in water, he prepares to write notes that will breathe life into his life. magical flute but as the band would say Synthesis in his old song:Somebody’s knocking on the door“. Healthcare! They advertise outside.

The eminent musician opens the door and enters into a traditional dialogue with the visitor:

“Smoke or calm down?” -ask.

“Smoke from what?” replies a cheeky lady in a faded gray blouse, and continues. Don’t joke that you’re a musician, not a clown. You know perfectly well that there is no oil and the discount is long over, but I will still check the water tanks and fill out the paper that I still need to insure my beans, that things are very difficult.

An hour after he registered everything, he leaves, commenting: “They don’t even give water here.

Mozart is again preparing to give life to a creation that will take him to the musical Olympus. At that very moment, one sounds, then two, until a series of drums and bells complete, announcing that the increasingly repetitive folklore concert of Nenita, a neighbor from the highlands, and her religious servants has already begun.

Late at night, when it seems that there will be no more problems, Johann Chrysostomus Wolfgang Theophilus Mozart, better known as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, is ready to present his masterpiece at this very moment: Black out!, and an exclamation that echoes it. all around: No, again!!!!

Source: Juventud Rebelde

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