On a weekday morning in Minneapolis, some years ago, I stole a couple of hours from an urgent trip from San Francisco, to visit the Walker Art Center. It was my habit, then, not to leave my Leica in a car. The Walker has since been greatly rebuilt and so has the Guthrie Theatre, its sublime sibling. Much noise has properly celebrated that pretty new architecture.
But there in that workmanlike foyer, that winter morning, youth from the Guthrie were exploiting a staircase as if in a vision of Terestchenko. With very much the wrong film on hand for the occasion, I took hand-held cognisance of their play, their work, their striving, their discipline, their invention, their love; and I have never regretted the abduction of a few precious moments with the pictures.
Time is a game played beautifully by children.
whatever you see as your limitations to capturing the moment, the frisson of it all carried with your story still lingers. such freedom to surrender to their discipline suspend for a moment their surroundings must have been a part of your own experience. Children do it beautifully-were it that we could remember and do it as well. pgt
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