Here is a scene played out in countless cities - the street musicians parked by a busy train station. This twosome seated outside Amsterdam's central train station played Klezmer music, lively and buoyant and a complete contradiction to the vibe they put off, which seemed cold and defeated.
The older man, sitting by the poster for the torture museum (it's impossible to read here, I know) looks out at the indifferent passing crowd with a dastardly distain. Even if you wanted to put money in their small suitcase lined with a folded purple towel, the fox-like look on papa's face seems too menacing to step that close.
I've always been fascinated by people who work in jobs where everyone else is going somewhere - toll booth attendants, airport employees, train station concessionaires. All those hundreds and thousands of people on their way somewhere else and you, the person stuck in one place, watching everyone moving, leaving, heading out.
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