The great majority of people view a painting only from the latter point of view, only in the light of _their preconceived_ notions and prejudices--hence the ridicule of the strange and the protest against the new. A very, very small minority--a minority so small it numbers scarce one in ten thousand--view a new work searchingly and at the same time sympathetically _from the artist’s point of view_, seeking diligently to find out what he is trying to do, and not permitting a single prejudice or preconceived notion of their own to bias their judgment. _After_ this class of observers have ascertained what the artist intended, _then_, and not until then, do they turn and view the work from their own point of view--that is, in the light of their own likes and dislikes. Their final appreciation may be that _granting the theories of the artist_ the picture is a fine one, but they do not agree with the artist’s theories, hence the picture from their point of view is a failure as a work of art. To rightly view a work of art is an _act of creation_; the true observer is a painter; the true reader is a poet. * * * * * It is not at all strange that the great majority referred to should resent Kandinsky’s improvisations, for they are not easy to understand, though most of them are undeniably fascinating in color. It is not even strange that a large percentage of the intelligent and sympathetic minority should finally reach the conclusion that the theories of the artist are not sound, and therefore all his work based on his extreme theories fails as art work, but the attitude of this fraction of the minority is an attitude of intelligent and conscientious conviction, reached after long and impartial investigation, while the attitude of the great majority is that of impulsive ignorance and irritation, reached on first impression and without the slightest attempt at understanding. * * * * * To illustrate: The great majority of people on first hearing Chinese music exclaim, “What a horrid din!” and turn away. A very, very small minority, about one man in a million, say, “True, it sounds to us like a din, but to a people of extraordinary civilization it is music; the matter is worth investigating,” and on investigation it would be found that Chinese music from time immemorial has been under state supervision.[53] The very ancient scale was pentatonic--five tones. It was in the seventh century, B.C., that the Asiatic flute was introduced into Greece and the Greek Doric scale transformed into one of five tones.[54] Among the more cultivated nations, the Chinese, and Celts of Scotland and Ireland still retain the scale of five notes without semitones, although both have become acquainted with the complete scale of seven tones.