In The Gallery

Over the last three of four years the annual Gallery Night at my place of work has become one of the highlights of my year. Yesterday's was no exception. Noi and I had a splendid time viewing the various paintings and work in other media essayed by our talented Year 6 Visual Arts students.

Actually talented doesn't really do them justice and is a mealy-mouthed tepid way of trying to capture the exuberance, energy and sheer joie de vivre of what they get up to. Even the dark, angsty stuff - plenty of that, of course, and rightly so - seems full of vim, somehow.

The great pleasure of Gallery Night itself is getting to hear the practitioners talk about their work. I made it my business this time round to listen cunningly from a distance, usually when they were addressing their peers. That way you get the unfettered version, not trying in any way to impress, just to communicate - invariably with great urgency and passion (a much abused term in these parts, but one that's appropriate in this context.)

I can think of at least one of those whose work we viewed last night as more than capable of pursuing a career doing this sort of thing. But what is far more obvious to me is how much more these youngsters will make of their lives in terms of depth and meaning if they keep up such work even if it's just for themselves.