I’ll Always Go Back To That Church

6th January, 2013

Today is the birthday of my brother, Anthony Minghella. He would have been 59.

Last year someone sent me a link to a wonderful photograph of him on location, which I hadn’t seen before. I wanted to share it today, but alas I can’t find it. There are so many photos on the net, I’m just trawling through a million Ants, and after a full hour, I’ve given up.

Maybe it’s a lesson. Not to dwell in the past. Not to wallow in a patchwork of Google thumbnails.

He used to say that you should never let a day go by without creating something. That means something new. That means living, not dwelling.

Still, I confess, I do dwell, and please allow me to do so each year on 6th January.

Perhaps my failure to find the “right” photo of Anthony is indicative of a certain elusive quality. He was famously adaptable. He seemed to be able to turn his hand to anything: theatre, radio, TV, film, opera.

He hated, as all artists do, to be pinned down. Maybe that’s why I can’t find the photo. Maybe there isn’t just one.

Just as there isn’t ONE photo of him, there isn’t ONE photo that captures his work.

But there is a “movie moment” I find myself returning to. It captures his ambition, his originality, his soaring big-heartedness. On a day like today, this seems a good enough place to go.

I’ll always go back to that church.

English Patient

13 thoughts on “I’ll Always Go Back To That Church

  1. I was remis in not getting my Christmas and New Year greeting out to you.
    I suppose the past must be left behind but, Oh, the memories we tuck deep inside so that on certain days we may sit back and let those memories warm us. I miss my father terribly and he has been gone 53 years.
    I sill will prod you in my effort to “bring King Richard home” in the hood series. King Authur and Robin Hood are two stories that keep the “good” side of life for us.
    Happy Birthday to your brother and God speed your happiness in this new year.


  3. It seems rather silly to write “I enjoyed that” because of the subject matter, but I genuinely did. We all need reminding, constantly in my case of how precious life and family is. If I didn’t follow you on twitter I wouldn’t have seen this and had my daily reminder of just how lucky I am.


  4. A beautiful tribute to a man with a big soul. As one who also lost her brother far too young and who has a tendency to dwell, I empathise with you.

  5. I have discovered this in a too pronged-way. I met your lovely sister Edana on Twitter and then in person… #dementiachallengers! My great friend Lindsay (née Gough) played “the Sophisticated Lady” in Anthony’s “Möbius the Stripper” at Hull University and speaks very fondly of him. Let’s all heed Anthony’s wonderful advice. Create something new every day – Wow! 🙂 #rememberinganthonyminghella

  6. Thank you Dominic for thoughtfully dwelling and sharing with us. The image is perfect and beautiful. Without question, the world soulfully benefits in the memory of Anthony, his words, and the images of his life’s work for all time.


  7. Ah how lovely. I listen to Mobius often – on a dreadful but cherished recording.

  8. Though I’m a writer with – alas – only a tiny fraction of Anthony Minghella’s talent, I just wanted to say how much his work enriched my life, how much I admired him and how much I wish I’d met him. I know it’s small comfort, but I too always think of him around this time of year.

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