George StraitPeople operate in a dynamic world, and through constant movement, convey multiple feelings at a time. When they reveal a little more than intended, a shift in expression or a gesture can cover the deep emotions when they rise to the surface. But a still photo, taken at the right moment, can capture a fleeting window to something intangible in the subject that might have been perceptible for a millisecond.
Writing about music, it’s been said, is like dancing about architecture — words can never fully capture the pitch of an A-flat or the snarl of a Telecaster. Likewise, a photo can’t convey the spiritual tone of a scintillating mandolin or the raucous volume of an amped-up honky-tonk. But Rode’s photo of bluegrass icon, leaning against a tree as he plucked his Gibson F-5 Master, provides a sense of Monroe’s relationship to his instrument.
“When he started playing, it was breathing,” Rode says. “That’s the way I feel. I wake up every morning and I want to pick up a camera, I want to go make a photo. I want to capture a moment that won’t be repeated again. I dream about it. To me, I’m the luckiest SOB in the world. I do something that I absolutely love.”Rode’s younger years set him on a path that’s obvious in hindsight. He grew up in a Midwestern home where were frequently on the turntable.