A few years ago We, parents of young children and a wild crab, sat in Café Ny Moser. Fortunately, the cafe was empty, so we enjoyed the moment and the food with our shoulders down, while the wild crab was allowed to roam as it pleased.
Then he came Haakon Bleiken.
For all people Of course it was he, the great artist, the man who chose his children to devote his life to art, who chose Trondheim regardless (or because he felt insecure in the big picture?) The city shrinks a little in his presence, because he seems larger than the city in which he lives. He entered the café and sat down with his newspaper, in his solitary majesty and sombre appearance.
Then Bleiken disappeared into the newspaper again, as if showing what a good person he is could be done by looking up from the paper and uttering a single word, Trond Am wrote about Haakon Bleiken, who turns 95 on Tuesday.
picture: Marianne Dybdahl
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Wild crab He wasn't particularly interested in making himself less brutal, and we became parents of young children again. First with the shoulders, then with the voice, then with the apologetic look. Now it's time to finish.
But before we can To extend an apologetic glance towards Haakon Bleikens, it reached us. The frowning face rose from the newspaper, he saw the boy, and the whole face faded into the warmest smile you can imagine.
Excitement! He said. The boy smiled again, as if only the two of them understood.
Then Bleiken disappeared In the newspaper again, as if showing what a good person he is could be done by looking up from the newspaper and uttering a word.
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