Scribd Logo
Upload

Welcome to Scribd!

  • 31 views

    Praying Hands by Albrecht Durer

    Uploaded by

    Thomas Harrold Nemiada
    STORY

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd

    Praying Hands by Albrecht Durer

    Uploaded by

    Thomas Harrold Nemiada
    31 views1 page
    STORY

    Copyright

    © © All Rights Reserved

    Available Formats

    DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd

    Did you find this document useful?

    Is this content inappropriate?

    STORY

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    31 views1 page

    Praying Hands by Albrecht Durer

    Uploaded by

    Thomas Harrold Nemiada
    STORY

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    You are on page 1of 1

    Praying Hands by Albrecht Durer

    Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with 18 children. Eighteen! In
    order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by
    profession, worked almost 18 hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the
    neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had
    a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would
    never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

    After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They
    would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his
    brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies,
    in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if
    necessary, also by laboring in the mines. They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht
    Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.

    Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work
    at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were
    far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn
    considerable fees for his commissioned works.

    When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to
    celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music
    and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honoured position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his
    beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfil his ambition. His closing words
    were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to
    pursue your dream, and I will take care of you." All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the
    table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side
    while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No...no...no...no."

    Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he
    loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to
    Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The
    bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so
    badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines
    on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother... for me it is too late."

    More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and
    silver-point sketches, watercolours, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great
    museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of
    Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction
    hanging in your home or office.

    One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his
    brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful
    drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great
    masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

    The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you
    still need one, that no one – no one - ever makes it alone!

    You might also like