1976 | The Denver Museum of Art
I always try to leave a museum before I become saturated. My strategy is to head straight for the exit after I have been fully taken in by an exceptional work or series. This way, I can keep the experience clear, on top of all the other museum layers.
I can’t remember what I last saw here in 1976, but it may well have been the view of the Front Range tightly framed through one of the slit windows in the west walls of the galleries, which surprise visitors as they view a series of nearer flat works on the adjacent walls. That startling switch of frame and focus to the mountains is what I remember today.
So I was waiting for a companion and took a seat on the bench which paralleled the flow of visitors in architect Gio Ponti’s ‘tube’ entrance. I always advised my students to avoid trying for pictures while sitting down, since mobility is a valuable asset for the photographer – the right place at the right time is hard to reach, feel, and choose while rooted on a bench. But if that’s a “rule,” here’s an exception. I was witness to a grand flow of in-and-out patrons from my perch as the rainy-day crowd came past me like migrating salmon past a bear’s favorite streamside outcrop. All I had to do was choose.
Many photographers have proven that pictures made in museums can be as interesting as things shown in museums. I offer my own evidence here.