I Call Myself Stradivarius

I Call Myself Stradivarius

Image “Cream Colored Stallion” by Johann Georg Hamilton. (© 2020 Kip Mistral.)

I am a real horse, but I’ve changed my name here to protect the innocent…and not-so-innocent.

I call myself Stradivarius because I was created to be an instrument of the highest quality, for a human of the highest quality, one who would learn to understand and value the brilliance and complexity of my nature. The original string instruments of the master Antonio Stradivari were made in the late 17th and early 18th centuries and they were, as they are still, considered the finest in the world. The rare few remaining today, whether in museums or still being played, lie almost beyond price. Because of their age, their wood is in a slow state of decomposition and detachment in their fibers from centuries of vibrations from being played, and microscopic shrinkage from evaporation. Yet is it ironic that many of the top violinists feel the old instruments have, just because of these factors, an even richer and more expressive sound today than they did when they were born? No, I don’t think so.

Because in the same way, my family and those similar to us were created across the sea. For centuries we were nurtured and protected within traditions that had very specific goals for us. We were selected to be straight forward and workmanlike, and extremely strong to be able to perform great feats of athleticism even into old age. We were made to be very intelligent so as to be able to grasp the highest demands of training, so we are not simple. In fact, we are specialists. And we were given high expectation of respectful treatment, since we have been honored and cherished as jewels in the crowns of our native cultures for hundreds of years.

For our families, this expectation, I am sad to say, is disappointed often today. We can be passed from person to person, as I have been, persons who unfortunately wrongly assume that they could be a match for specialists such as we are. Such a person can break a whip on our body, as has been done to mine, but that will not give us the trust that will inspire us to be a stalwart partner and give our best, and our love. But with respect, fairness, patience, and compassion…we will become yours and keep getting richer, like a Stradivarius, with time.

I am still waiting patiently for that human of the highest quality, who I hope is on their way to me and may be right around the corner. I am waiting in the green field.

 

Do You Know Where Your Right Leg Is?

Do You Know Where Your Right Leg Is?

(“The Two Horse Act,” color lithograph originally published in 1874 by Gibson & Co, Cincinnati)

I had to laugh when I wanted a feature image for this post and this amusing Victorian circus act image that I saved some time ago floated up to the top of my extensive gallery of artwork.

Everything about this image is fascinating. The audience as a group oddly seems to be either looking in front of the “two horse act” or behind it. Yet each person’s individualistic face and his or her details from headwear to clothing is drawn carefully. The mustachioed rider understandably has a preoccupied expression, balanced atop two horses as he is, guiding them (on loose reins, I might add!) as they run at frenetic speed in a small ring, and at the same time holding out a perky lass with golden ringlets who stands with her right foot on his manly thigh…with her left ankle extended out of sight.

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Order in the Time of Chaos – Thoughts On the Beauty of Balance

Order in the Time of Chaos – Thoughts On the Beauty of Balance

(© Kip Mistral 2020. Painting by Alexander Pock 1940, Spanish Riding School Levade.)

When as a child I first read Marguerite Henry’s wonderful book about the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, titled “The White Stallion of Lipizza,” equally wonderfully illustrated by her creative partner Wesley Dennis, I was fascinated with the idea of a supremely orderly program of learning and teaching a venerable and highly cultivated horsemanship.

This was no haphazard affair like the way my friends and I learned to ride…we were told to get on, kick to go, pull back on the reins to stop and neck rein. Then off we tore with our kind-hearted and forbearing mounts, all asses and elbows for too long as we learned the hard way.

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Moving Sabbatical!

Moving Sabbatical!

(Costume design for a carrousel of King Louis XIV from the studio of Jean Bérain 1640-1711)

Kipmistral.com is going on a short sabbatical while Kip and Val are moving to Tucson in the beginning of July **AND** expanding the website platform to include regularly scheduled articles, book and video reviews, short film creations, recordings, podcast interviews with today’s classical masters and other persons of the highest calibre of expertise, and new products. If you are not sure that you have joined the email list, please do! Your entry will not be duplicated in the event you have joined previously. I will soon have lots of news for you. Happy Trails for now!

When Only a White Horse Will Do

When Only a White Horse Will Do

(© Kip Mistral 2019. Detail from the “Apotheosis of Kaiser Wilhem” by Ferdinand Keller, 1888. National Gallery, Berlin)

Everyone knows, on an archetypal level, that anyone riding a white horse in a movie is a good guy and anyone riding a black horse is a bad guy. Why is that? Why is Pegasus white and why is the Unicorn white? Why is the horse the King rides so often white? Well, white is the color identified with the qualities of purity and nobility, and also it just so happens that real white horses are extremely rare…literally, the pearl of great price.

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