Found this photograph taken at the Whitechapel exhibition on Twitter, by @rockmother.
I STARE at them, but not long enough, not long enough. There is a beautiful poem by Valery Larbaud, who evokes four young women he caught a glimpse of during his journeys, and he laments not being able to reach them now. "For, I don’t know why, it seems to me that with them I could conquer a world." There is something of that megalomaniac melancholy in the browsing of past images. Perhaps, if I could catch up with the absolute beauty in Cape Verde, the violinist in Stockholm lost in her thoughts, the grandmother in Corsica kissing the sacred stone, the exhausted Chinese laborer, the Japanese extra sleeping between two takes, the two Russian girls listening to poetry, the young woman dozing in the train, and the old man with his paper toys, perhaps I could conquer a world. Or rather, they would conquer a world for me.