Soru

Arthur stood before the block of Carrara marble, his calipers measuring the distance from the nose to the brow on his clay model for the tenth time. To him, the stone was a fortress to be dismantled stone by stone, under the strict guidance of geometry and patience. "A single hasty blow," he whispered, more to himself than to his apprentice, "and the entire figure is lost to the rubble."

Across the workshop, Philip was already at work, his hammer singing a rapid, uneven rhythm against his own stone. He did not use grids or chalk. He worked with a fierce, intuitive velocity, his eyes fixed on some invisible figure only he could see within the uncarved mass. "If you plan too much, Arthur," Philip laughed, wiping marble dust from his forehead, "you freeze the life out of it before it can even breathe. The stone knows what it wants to be; you just have to let it out." Arthur sighed, watching a large flake of marble shear off under Philip's chisel, wondering how long it would take before a single reckless strike shattered the boy's illusions.

In the passage, how does Philip's attitude toward sculpting primarily serve as a foil to Arthur's methodical approach?