Ibrahim Miranda Cuban, 1969

The words have to be enticed out of Ibrahim Miranda’s mouth, one by one. His sentences are brief, sporadic, with long pauses, and are often condensed into a simple head movement, affirmative or negative. Sometimes there is a smile of approval or a laugh. I have never seen him worked up, or heard his voice raised. Yet one always feels the presence of a great inner, containement, like a pressure cooker.