06/16/16: smokers’ detritus #10 – the long walk (an artist’s life)

My career has been in a slow transition, moving from commercial to fine art photography. I’m not sure exactly when this began but it was about a decade ago. My first memory of the change is a portrait of New York City Ballet principal dancer, Ana Sophia Scheller. It was taken during a catalog shoot for Discount Dance Supply at a friend’s fashion studio in Chelsea.

ana-sophia scheller. principal dancer. new york city ballet

Ana Sophia sat down on the couch next to where I was working, photographing another dancer on the ten foot wide white seamless background. The cover over the skylight above me loosened, sending a shaft of soft daylight on to Ana Sophia’s face. It was beautiful. I finished up with the dancer on set and turned towards Ana Sophia, asking her not to move. I “needed” to take her portrait. I said that. She was perfect, sitting there exactly as she was. I asked my client, Nina Vance, if I could take a short break to photograph Ana Sophia. Nina is great. She immediately agreed. Nina understood what I saw in the streaming daylight. I think to this day Ana Sophia still uses that photo for her promotion.

Daylight! That was the change I needed. It’s not that I had never shot using daylight. I’ve taken thousands of pictures outdoors in natural light. But this was in a studio. I’m sure I had done indoor formal portraits in the past using daylight but that probably was in the 70s and early 80s – back when I thought I was an artist – back before I realized I needed to earn a living – before I became a commercial photographer. That was over 30 years ago. It seems like a very long time ago. It was time to retire the strobe lights and see what a more natural world had to offer.

alessandra ferri. daylight. 1985. abt studio #5. promo photo for on pointe magazine

I have a friend with a beautiful daylight studio. Over the years I’ve given him a great deal of my time, helping him with his photography and responding to his questions with business advice. I hoped he would let me use his space on occasion when he had a quiet afternoon. Inexplicably it didn’t work out. He said, “No!” I was quite upset. He doesn’t get much advice from me anymore.

violeta angelova. studio portrait in my apartment

As it turned out this was a blessing in disguise. My apartment has nice light coming through the windows but I had never considered using it as a daylight shooting space. I have too much stuff and the windows are filled with my jungle. I have shot in my apartment hundreds of times – not only personal portraits but also advertising and editorial shoots for PLAYBOY, Essence, Ladies Home Journal, American Ballet Theatre, Dance Magazine and dozens of other companies. Those shoots were always with studio strobes or tungsten “hot” lights. How would I convert to a daylight studio.

I believe it began five years ago with Zarina Stahnke. I’ve spoken about her in past essays. She wasn’t the first model I photographed using my apartment’s natural light. That was Naomi Rusalka. I’m not sure why my new daylight experiment didn’t begin with Naomi. I was mostly shooting outdoors at that time and I guess I wasn’t ready to move the shoots into my apartment. It was Zarina who made me love my home as a background and truly see those photographs as works of art. I haven’t looked back and interestingly enough, I did do a portrait shoot of Zarina and Naomi together – though not with daylight!

zarina stahnke on my couch by windowlight. the image that began the daylight series

You might wonder how all of this leads to photographing cigarette butts in the dirty streets of New York City? I mostly take baby steps as I move through my career. Going from shooting ballerinas wearing leotards in a studio to crawling on the ground searching for the perfect cigarette butt would have been too great an artistic leap. I needed to first go through the process of outdoor portraits, mirror portraits, daylight portraits in my apartment and recently the Intimate Portrait series. After photographing my muses, sitting on their laps, the camera only inches from their faces – the Smokers’ Detritus series actually felt like the natural progression.

tamrin goldberg. intimate portrait project.

My business and personal lives have meshed together as one being. Models come over for tea. We shoot for hours – thousands of images. Finally we sit and have lunch together – my hummus and homemade jam – discussing the world and details of our personal lives. The afternoon sessions feel more like a visit from a close friend than a photo shoot. The question now became how to integrate the cigarette portraits into my daily life.

discarded marlboro. brighton beach

Long walks. I take a lot of them. B&H camera to Strands Bookstore – down Second Avenue to Chinatown for lunch – up through Soho to The Village – hop on the C train back up to the Upper West Side. The places and routes vary but there are always endless cigarette butts to be photographed along these pathways. I’ve learned to combine the walks with my photography for the Smokers’ Detritus series. I give myself extra time, knowing on almost every block I will find an interesting butt to photograph.

A few weeks ago I had an endless list of errands to run. I decided to give myself an assignment. I had to photograph a cigarette butt at every location I visited.

#1: My apartment at 165 W. 83rd Street. I walked out the front door and realized I should begin with the sidewalk outside my apartment building. I knew I’d find some discarded cigarettes out there. My street is like one giant ashtray – the remains of smokers in a continuous trail from Amsterdam to Columbus. People go up on my rooftop to smoke, tossing their lit butts over the railing when finished. I imagine some of the butts on the street today made that ten story leap. There are two trees in front of my building. Smokers obviously find their soil an attractive ashtray. It’s disgusting but it works for me. I find the combination of human and nature’s detritus lends to a beautiful image.

#1: my apartment building with smokers' detritus

#2: Mike’s Lumber at 88th Street and Broadway. I headed over to Mike’s Lumber store on 88th Street. It has been an Upper West Side fixture for many years. The lumber for every bookshelf in my apartment came from that store. I have a lot of bookshelves. I now need a few 1″ x 12″ boards to build a small storage space in my hallway – above the front door. I have nine-and-a-half foot ceilings. That spot has always seemed like dead space. The location is a perfect place to store my suitcase and a bunch of studio backgrounds. Hiding the collapsing walls with a nice wood-stained shelf will transform a sterile place into something much better.

#2: outside of mike's lumber store

The wood at Mike’s was too expensive. I should have known. Everything in my neighborhood now is pricey. I stepped outside to see what kind of deceased cigarettes I could find. I photographed a few selections but my favorite was the butt caught in between a metal gate and the sidewalk. The light reflected off the dirty metal door was beautiful.

#2: cigarette outside of mike's lumber

#3: Terese Capucilli near 91st Street and Broadway. I walked uptown on Broadway to my next stop. Half a block in front of me I saw some woman doing dance poses in the street. It took a moment before I realized it was Terese, who upon seeing the camera around my neck began her posing to attract my attention. I am so dumb! I should have taken a few snapshots of her for this essay and then photographed the nearby cigarettes on the street. But I didn’t. We chatted for a few minutes and moved on. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

#3: terese capucilli at the "table of silence" and a used matchbox at 91st and broadway

#4: Time Warner Cable on 96th Street and Broadway. Time Warner had recently upgraded my cable box. I have a big new flat screen TV and was told I needed something more high tech. The old cable box had to go back to the store. It was supposed to be a quick drop off. Things don’t always work out as planned. I had to take a number and wait. At least there was my assignment to help pass the time.

#4: cigarette on manhole cover in front of time warner cable

I’ve shot cigarette butts many times at this intersection, 96th and Broadway while walking home after dance shoots up at Barnard. For some reason, on this day there wasn’t much to choose from. As with all photographic assignments an artist doesn’t always have perfect choices. I shot the best butt I could find. I’ve been doing a sub-series of manhole covers within the Smokers’ Detritus project and this image works.

#4: customers coming out of time warner cable store hiding from my camera

It wasn’t quite as easy getting the shot of the Time Warner store. The people walking out of the store noticed my camera and obviously weren’t happy I had pointed my camera in their direction. One woman covered her face. In New York City there has always been an issue with illegal immigrants when photographing in the streets. They don’t want a record of their presence to exist. I can understand that. That fear has grown with the prevalence of digital cameras and the all-encompassing internet.

#5: 96th Street IRT subway station. I finally returned my cable box and crossed to the middle of Broadway, heading to the subway, planning to take the #1 train downtown. I stopped outside of the station, expecting to find dozens of butts on the ground. Subway stops are a great place to find subjects for my series. There’s no smoking on the trains and people toss their cigarettes, often still lit, before walking into the station. There’s an endless selection outside of every stop. I searched the ground and was surprised to find few choices. As I knelt on the ground to capture two butts sitting together, a subway worker walked up to me with a broom and pan. No wonder the sidewalks were clean! He was sweeping up all the butts.

#5: cigarettes on the special tile at the 96th street irt station

He waited patiently as I photographed the two cigarettes. I showed him the images. He thought the pictures were interesting and we talked for a short time about modern art and photography. I explained how much I love the textures of New York City sidewalks and streets – something few people notice.

Later, while researching this essay, I tried to find out what kind of stone was used for the tiles at the 96th Street station. They seemed special. I couldn’t find an answer but I did learn they had been ruined by peoples’ used spit-out-gum even before the station was completed. The writer of this online article called the people of New York City “pigs.” Having spent so many hours crawling on the sidewalks of New York I have to agree.

#5: subway worker cleaning up the smokers' detritus

I said goodbye to the subway man as he swept up my cigarettes. I managed to capture him in front of the station, cleaning up the last bits of garbage before he walked into the station. I quickly followed and hopped on the train.

#6: Subway exit at 19th Street and 7th Avenue. I took the #1 train down to the 18th Street stop, sitting at the back of the train so I could depart at 19th Street. I knew there would be endless butts at the top of the subway stairs, not because of the subway smokers but due to the fact the subway exits at the famous Peter McManus pub. I spent many evenings there from 1982 – 1993 after photographing rehearsals at American Ballet Theatre’s studios a few blocks away. McManus has great french fries and it’s one of the few places you can get a Guiness on tap.

#6: abt studios: mikhail baryshikov and kathleen moore rehearsing mark morris's "drink to me"

I wasn’t disappointed when I got to the top of the stairs. There was cigarette debris all over the place. When working on the Smokers’ Detritus project one thing I look for in particular is used matches. Since the advent of cheap BIC lighters not many people use matches anymore. Many years ago I collected matchbooks from every restaurant I visited. People smoked more then and it was nice to have a light readily available for guests. I also had an oven with a finicky pilot light. Most times I needed to use a match to get the oven started. I still have that oven! Now I use a BIC barbeque lighter to get the oven going. It’s a good tool. I don’t singe my eyelashes anymore.

#6: subway steps. 19th street and 7th avenue

I found a well-worn Marlboro next to a single used match. The textures were beautiful. I took my shot and moved on down the street.

#6: used cigarette and match outside of peter macmanus's pub

#7: new york live arts

#7: New York Live Arts at 219 W. 19th Street. I walked halfway down the block to New York Live Arts. I needed to drop off a hard drive to Kyle Maude with the images I shot a few days before of Bill T Jones’ new piece, Analogy/Lance: Pretty. This new project is the story of Bill’s nephew, Lance T. Briggs. It is an intense show and I’ll likely write a separate essay about it in the near future.

Before 2011, New York Live Arts was known as Dance Theater Workshop. It’s where my career as a dance photographer began. In 1981 and 1982 I shot the the likes of Laura Dean, Charlie Moulton and Susan Marshall. The first exhibition of my dance photography was held in their gallery in 1982.

#7: casey. susan marshall dress rehearsal at dance theater workshop. january 29, 1982

The black box theater space felt like old New York – raw, intimate and probably somewhat grimy. I could get close to the dancers – understand the reasons behind their choreography. I’ve been searching for that feeling again recently, fighting against the new commercialism surrounding the dance world.

#7: discarded cigarettes outside of new york live arts

There’s not much grime outside of NYLA. They keep their sidewalks clean. It’s a far cry from the dirty streets of New York City in the early 80s.. A well-worn Parliament touched the filter of another discarded cigarette. This mix of detritus was perfect. I was lucky the brooms missed this pair.

#8: Duggal Photography Labs on 23rd Street between 5th and 6th Avenues. Duggal is another place where I have a long history. During the late 1970s and early 80s it’s where I had my slide film developed and the 11″ x 14″ color prints made for my first fashion portfolios. By the 1990s I had moved on to other labs. A decade ago the use of digital photography ended my use of the labs altogether.

#8: pedestrians in front of duggal labs

As I’ve begun to sell more of my work as fine art, I’m looking to get the best quality scans of my film. The place for that appears to be Duggal. The scans they produce for me are amazing. Every detail in the negative appears in the scan. I see things in the images I never knew existed. I was a master printer but had no idea my darkroom prints were missing that much detail. Duggal’s scans are expensive and they’re worth every penny. I’m creating 17″ x 25″ prints. I want them to be perfect.

#8: cigarette in the sunlight in front of duggal labs

After dropping off two negatives for scanning I looked down on the wide sidewalk in front of Duggal and “scanned” the ground for my next subject. Duggal is a very professional place. I bet they sweep their sidewalks every morning.

I found my butt. The light wasn’t right but I had to get the shot. Looking at the photo now, as I write this essay, I wonder if I should consider varying the light I use for this series?

#9: lumber at home depot

#9: Home Depot on 23rd Street between 5th and 6th Avenues. I ran across the street to Home Depot, still on my search for lumber. On their website it said the store carried 4′ long, 1″ x 12″ boards. Just what I needed to build my new shelf. In general the 23rd Street Home Depot sucks! There is no correlation between what’s on the website and what’s in the store. Of course they didn’t have the lumber I wanted. The sales person told me I could purchase the 4′ boards online and have them delivered to the store at no charge. That will have to be my solution.

#9: home depot. cigarettes in sidewalk grate

Home Depot doesn’t care about their sidewalks as much as Duggal. There was a lovely selection of butts to choose from. Another one of my favorite places to find used cigarettes is within sidewalk grates. I love the patterns and the way steel reflects the light.

#9: home depot lumber

I photographed the no-smoking sign on the store’s exit door noticing dozens of cigarette remains on the nearby sidewalk. I wondered why this sign was on the exit door? Home Depot’s entrance mentions nothing about smoking.

#9: ladybug match at home depot

Hmmm! Spying a match with a head looking much like a ladybug I had to kneel down and capture a second butt.

#10: The Union Square Greenmarket. I headed down Broadway, passing the American Ballet Theatre’s studios on 19th Street. This always brings back memories. I photographed in those studio hundreds of times from 1982 – 1992. The Greenmarket wasn’t on my “errand” list but I stopped to photograph one cigarette on the tiled thoroughfare. This farmers market saved my life forty summers ago. The Union Square Greenmarket opened during the summer of 1976, a couple of months before I moved to New York City that August. My first apartment was at 139 E. 13th Street, just around the corner from Union Square. The neighborhood was very different at that time and I was a poor, starving artist. My decisions about money always came down to film or food?

#10: cigarette butt at the union square greenmarket

The Greenmarket was a godsend. Farmers markets were very different in 1976 than they are today. They used to be places where one could buy fresh produce at reasonable prices. It was great for both the consumer and the farmers. Skipping the retail store as middleman, farmers could sell their products for less and still make a larger profit, also with selling their discolored or bruised vegetables – items the stores would not take. That’s a far cry from the Greenmarket today where fruits and vegetables are sold for a premium. Fortunately I can still go to the Greenmarket at 175th and Broadway. When I need piles of tomatoes, eggplants, onions, and peppers to make my famous vegetable sauce that’s my go-to place. It’s not in a trendy neighborhood so the prices are fair and reasonable. The same vegetables as Union Square – only half the price.

#10: union square greenmarket

Coming from Chicago I wasn’t used to New York City food prices. The Union Square market allowed me to eat healthy. I’ll never forget the joy it brought me, living in New York, buying produce in the street directly from farmers’ trucks. Union Square is a different place now but I’ll never lose those special memories.

I didn’t buy anything today. In the fall I sometimes buy a few apples. This changed market reminds me of how The City has become so expensive – the difficulty young artists encounter trying to create here while surviving financially. I thought I had it bad during my first years living here. I didn’t know how lucky I was. At least I could survive well enough to live and create my art.

#11: Behind the Grace Church – Abby Wen Wu. I heard my iphone chiming. I was behind the famous Grace Church at 11th Street and 4th Avenue. I had meant to walk down Broadway but somehow turned instead down 4th Avenue. It’s easy to do that at Union Square. 4th Avenue is kind of an anomaly, running only from 8th Street up to 14th. Above it becomes Park Avenue – below Lafayette.

#11: text message from abby wen wu

I sat down on the back steps of the church and pulled the phone out of my backpack. I’ve been inside the Grace Church one time, decades ago to photograph the wedding of CBS news anchor, Michelle Marsh. The text was from Abby Wen Wu. Abby’s a new friend and a muse. Originally “Cigarette essay #10″ was supposed to be about our friendship. When she’s in front of my camera I’m always amazed by what comes out of her soul. I wrote one page about her before I stopped. I need to see her again before I write her essay.

#11: chinese cigarette butt behind the grace church

I looked down to the sidewalk and saw the remains of a Chinese cigarette on the ground. How perfect! Abby could now be part of essay #10 afterall.

#12: Leslie Simpson at 10th Street and 4th Avenue. I wasn’t positive I had the perfect cigarette shot to go with my image of Abby’s text message. Walking half a block to the corner of 10th Street, I saw a nice grouping of cigarettes in the dirt surrounding a nearby tree. I was crawling on the ground as I often do for this series, looking for a combination of butts and detritus, when I hear a sweet voice calling out my name.

#12: six cigarette brands at 10th street and 4th avenue

It was Leslie Simpson. Somehow she recognized me crawling on the ground, probably looking more like a crazed homeless person than a professional photographer. I got up, and even though I had been on the filthy New York City sidewalk Leslie still gave me a wonderful long hug. I felt the dirt of the shooting day wash away with her warmth.

#12: leslie simpson at 10th street and 4th avenue

We spoke for a few minutes. Leslie is on the top of my list of people I want to shoot for my Intimate Portrait series. The pictures I take of her will be beautiful. Leslie and I parted ways but before I got back to my cigarettes in the dirt I realized I needed to take her portrait on this spot. I wouldn’t make the same mistake I had made with Terese. I called Leslie’s name and she walked back to me. I quickly explained my day’s assignment and took a few quick portraits. We hugged again, saying we would get together soon, before heading in opposite directions.

#13: Petsmart at Bleecker and Broadway. I don’t know why this day felt like the 1970s? Maybe it was because this was the first time since that era I’ve spent the day photographing people in the street. New York has changed a great deal since I moved here in 1976. The place where Petsmart now stands, not far from Houston Street, used to be the main area where bums and “winos” hung out in the 70s. It’s not far from the Bowery Mission. Few people lived in the nearby buildings. I think Mapplethorpe’s apartment was nearby. Only crazy artists lived in this neighborhood. There were no retail businesses along Broadway. The streets were quiet night and day except for the delivery trucks transferring goods in and out of the wholesale fabric and garment warehouse lofts lining the avenue.

#13: bleecker and broadway

Today this stretch of Broadway from 8th Street down to Canal is one of the busiest retail shopping districts in Manhattan. Still, something about the pedestrians in the street felt like the 70s – down-beaten and melancholy. Is this the future of New York City? The streets in this area are generally dirty. That hasn’t changed in forty years. A lot of people equals a lot of garbage. I had no problem finding my discarded butts in front of Petsmart.

#13: cigarette butt on broadway in front of petsmart

I love finding butts in puddles. The water adds texture and depth to the images. The difficult part is the reflections, often my own, and how to incorporate them into the photographs. Cigarette remains are very durable. They hold up well in water.

#13: cigarette butts in a puddle in front of petsmart

I needed to buy Fancy Feast for my four cats. They love it. The food seems relatively healthy for canned stuff. The “Fish and Shrimp Feast,” with whole prawns, looks so good I could eat it myself. Andrea Mohin, the dance photographer for the New York Times, calls Fancy Feast “kitty crack.” With a few of the flavors I believe she’s right.

#13: not enough fancy feast choices at petsmart

I don’t know what it is about this particular Petsmart but their shelves of Fancy Feast are often bare. A salesperson always tells me a shipment is arriving the next day. How is that possible? I think they might need a new manager. Fortunately, I only needed to buy a dozen cans. Only a few of my cats’ favorite flavors were on hand. I bought what I could and continued my voyage downtown.

#14: morganstern's ice cream store

#14: Morganstern’s near Rivington and Bowery. Morganstern’s wasn’t on my errand list. It happened to be along the route I was taking to my main destination. I had never heard of this place. I only stopped to figure out what kind of product warranted a line of people 40 deep? Ice cream! Is any dessert worth a thirty minute wait? I don’t think so. Obviously I’m not a typical New Yorker. I won’t wait in a 30 minute line for anything.

#15: cigarette butts across the street from morganstern's

I stopped, so I photographed. Two cigarette butts lay on the ground beneath me. I didn’t kneed to wait in a line to take my pictures. I moved on.

#15: intersection of delancey and eldridge

#15: The corner of Delancey and Eldridge Streets. I once again headed downtown through the Lower East Side. At the corner of Delancey and Eldridge sat an empty Marlboro carton. It was the first time I had found a discarded carton since I began my Smokers’ Detritus series. I could not pass this opportunity by.

#15: marlboro box at delancey and eldridge

The packaging glowed against the dirty street. The leaves seemed to be a bit of an anomaly. There weren’t any trees nearby. It was 6:30 in the evening but for some reason there were few pedestrians in the street. I wondered how different this intersection must have looked at dinner time one hundred years earlier, endless pushcarts, shoppers, and horse-drawn carts filling the tenement lined street.

#16: vanessa's dumpling house

#16: 118A Eldridge. Vanessa’s Dumpling House. I walked down Eldridge and came to Vanessa’s Dumpling House. Abby Wen Wu told me I should eat there. Abby knows I am in love with inexpensive Chinese dumpling shops. I was hungry. I looked inside. The place was filled with Hipsters. It didn’t fell authentic. I already have a favorite dumpling place in Chinatown where my friend Veronica Zhai says the dumplings taste like “home.” I decided to wait.

There weren’t many cigarette butts in the street near Vanessa’s. I was surprised. The streets of the Lower East Side, full of trendy shops, bars and restaurants are usually full of discarded cigarettes. Maybe Vanessa’s clientele happen to be non-smokers? That’s hard to believe.

#16: cigarette butt, box cutting blades and gum scum in front of vanessa's

I found one butt on the nearby sidewalk. It was accompanied by what I think are three box cutting blades and two splotches of gum residue… the only human detritus more prevalent on the city streets than cigarette butts.

#17: Invisible-Exports Gallery at 89 Eldridge. I finally arrived at my destination – the reason for this long walk. Invisible-Exports Gallery was presenting Frida Smoked, “a group exhibition featuring the work of women artists and their cigarettes.” How perfect for me! Women and cigarettes – my two favorite subjects.

Unfortunately the gallery was closed. I knew it would be. I had spent so much time all afternoon long crawling on the ground, photographing cigarette butts, it was now past 6:30pm. Galleries rarely stay open past 6:00pm. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. It was Monday, June 6th. Invisible-Exports is closed on Mondays!

#17: mother and daughter passing invisible-exports gallery

This area of the Lower East Side has become a real-estate battleground for retail business. Chinese businesses and restaurants have been moving into this area for years as their population increased and the rents in the tourist areas rose with the gentrification of New York City. Most of the Chinese shops and restaurants I now frequent are above Canal, something that never happened 10 years ago. I often shop for vegetables and steamed buns east of Bowery. There’s an entire new Chinatown on that side of the avenue.

#17: marlboro in the street in front of invisible-exports gallery

At the same time, this area has become the new art gallery district. Due to the ridiculous rents in Chelsea and the fear of another Hurricane Sandy, galleries are looking for another place to call home. With the building of the New Museum a few years ago and the recent opening of the International Center of Photography, this neighborhood is the obvious place. I most often visit galleries in Chelsea but since I’m frequently in Chinatown my visits to the Lower East Side galleries are increasing.

#17: mother and daughter a few minutes earlier, down the street from invisible-exports

I’m stood in front of Invisible-Exports. I needed to get my shots. As a Chinese mother and daughter passed on the sidewalk I tried to capture a decent shot of them walking by the gallery. I failed, but here it is. Only later, while writing this essay, did I realize I had photographed the two women only a few minutes earlier, walking out of a nearby building. I like that shot of the women much better, and as it happens, I did photograph one butt at that earlier location. It was near the circular metal cover over one of the street’s water mains. It didn’t look like this access point had been opened in decades – the sidewalk not repaired for almost as long. I can’t imagine what the pipes underneath must look like? Another shot for my manhole sub-series though no man could fit here.

#17: cigarette butt and water main cover. down the street from invisible-exports gallery

Standing in front of the gallery, I looked down on the sidewalk for my cigarette subjects. Now this was the dirty Lower East Side I’ve always loved. Butts were everywhere! I shot a bunch, my favorite a discarded Marlboro with a small tip of ash. The cigarette glows against the dark pavement of the street.

#18: Deluxe Food near Elizabeth and Mott Streets. I was getting hungry. I had a final stop before eating dinner. Deluxe Foods is one of my favorite grocery stores in Chinatown. It’s an unusual place. The store is a thin band, stretching from Elizabeth to Mott Street with entrances at both sides. They have the freshest meat and fish in the city.

#18: steamed buns at deluxe foods

I mostly go there for the steamed buns. I forget what they’re called but I know they are special. Besides the typical pork/preserved cabbage filling, enclosed in the bun are the special treats of shiitake mushroom, Chinese sausage and egg. The bun is perfectly cooked and delicious. They are big – at least 5″ in diameter and cost only $1.30. I always buy at least two and eat them as my breakfast over the next few days. Something about these buns makes me feel good. If you go, make sure to buy the bun with the small red dot on top!

#18: woman leaving deluxe food, upset i'm taking her picture

As in Brighton Beach (Russians) and the Upper West Side (Latinos), people in Chinatown often don’t like seeing a camera pointed in their direction. I’ve always guessed it’s an illegal immigration thing. I get it. If there are no records you do not exist. Shooting in front of Deluxe Foods was no different. People coming out of the store either turned away or gave me a dirty look. I’m subtle. I’m not shoving my camera in their faces. Somehow the people always see me. They are aware. The woman coming out of Deluxe Food obviously did not appreciate my camera pointed in her direction. Now she’s on my blog!

#18: cigarette on the sidewalk in front of deluxe food

In Chinatown it’s never a problem finding cigarette butts in the street. There were many on the sidewalk near Deluxe Food. I could spend hours here finding interesting brands and street textures. I decided to continue with the Marlboro theme, photographing a solitary butt nestled in the sidewalk seam.

#19: Tasty Dumpling at 42 Mulberry Street. I’m starving now. I’m dying to eat dumplings. Tasty Dumpling is only a few blocks away. I head down there ignoring the distractions of street vendors and interesting butts on the sidewalks. I get to Tasty Dumpling and manage a few shots of the storefront before heading into the small, old-fashioned cafe-like restaurant.

#19: tasty dumpling

I almost always order #1 and #2 – five dumplings each of pork-and-cabbage and pork-and-chives. They’re kind of boiled, fried and sautéed all at the same time. They are Nirvana. Total cost = $2.50! Tasty Dumpling also has the best cabbage-ginger pickled kimchi I’ve ever eaten along with the best won-ton soup. The best anywhere!

#19: #1 & #2 dumpings from tasty dumpling... $2.50

I poured Sriracha sauce over my dumplings and chowed down. I was so happy. This made up for the closed gallery. Satiated, I bought some kimchi to-go and headed back into the street to search for cigarette remains.

#19: marlboro box top in front of tasty dumpling

In front of the restaurant I found a torn off cigarette box top. This was something new for the series. I also captured a few more interesting butts on the sidewalk. It’s good to get extra images. The photographs not used in this essay can always become part of my Smokers’ Detritus portfolio.

Publisher’s note: Part IV begins here. I’ve finally finished this essay. It’s the longest piece I’ve written since college!

#20: The A/C/E subway station at Canal and Sixth Avenue. It was approaching 8:00pm. The light was fading and after gorging on dumplings I was finally getting tired. There is always the question of whether I should take the #1 or the C train home. The #1 runs more frequently but there’s something I like about the C. Maybe it’s the wider train cars? Tonight I would go with feel over speed.

#20: cigarette remains outside the a/c/e subway station at canal and sixth avenue

Entrances to the subway are cigarette butt graveyards. All those smokers need to toss their butts before entering the station. There were some nice butts among the grass and dirt surrounding a few nearby trees but I decided to stick with the sidewalk seam theme.

#20: a/c/e subway station at canal and sixth avenue

This time in the early evening is my favorite portrait light. As much as I wanted to capture the faces of the people milling around at the entrance to the station, the ad at the top of the stairs grabbed my attention. I don’t know who shot the ad but it matched the evening light.

#21: Central Park West and 81st Street subway station. It was 8:45pm when I got off the train at 81st Street. It was already dark on the street. The sky had that last glow of daylight. I haven’t shot many cigarette butts by streetlight but now I was “on assignment.” I had no choice.

#21: c subway station stairway at 81st street and central park west

Heading out of the station a couple was just ahead of me on the stairs. I saw the picture before it happened. I slowed to open up some space between us. I was ready. I got the shot. The photo reminds me of pictures I took when I first moved to New York City in 1976.

#21: two cigarette portraits. subway stairs at 81st street and central park west

Walking up the stairs, I saw two butts on the steps near the top. I often see people smoking on this staircase leading down into the station, not caring how difficult they make it to pass. Now I have a record of their crimes!

#21: entrance to the c subway station at 81st street and central park west

Outside the station it was beautiful. The street lights, auto headlights, dimming sky and subway station glow all matched. I had to capture the shot. Unlike the 70s look of the earlier photo this one felt modern.

#22: 165 West 83rd Street – Home. A few blocks later I’m finally home. I’m ready to take the last photographs for my assignment. All I want to do was sit down on my couch and drink a cup of tea. I need to wash my knees. They are filthy from kneeling on the sidewalks and streets all day long.

#22: home

A woman turns back to check on her dawdling friend and quickly I take the shot. I look down. I know my sidewalk is always full of butts. The question is finding one in enough light for a photograph.

#22: cigarette in front of my apartment, lit by lamplight

It wasn’t happening. I find one where I can see well enough to focus. The images are dark. I’ll somehow manage to pull out the detail.

#23: Exhibition at the Invisible-Export Gallery. You might think this essay is finished but there is one more story. Three days later, on June 9th, Abby Wen Wu asked me if I wanted to join her at the New Museum that evening. On Thursdays, after 6:00pm the museum is pay-what-you-wish. I figured I could go early and see the Frida Smoked show at Invisible-Exports and meet Abby afterwards.

#23: invisible-exports gallery - cigarette butts on the ground

I got to Invisible-Exports and this time it is open. I had expected the work to be a little more “feminist”… paintings, drawings and sculptures showing a woman’s point of view. There was none of that. I wondered, “why evoke the spirit of Frida Kahlo if you weren’t going to show art embodying the strength of women?” Maybe the gallery, finding that need unnecessary, is what evokes the strength of women artists.

#23: ilse getz. "cigarette collage vii"

I spent some time wandering through the small gallery. The art work was mostly not in a style I appreciate. I’m not a big fan of most modern or conceptual art though over time I’ve learned to understand the process of some of the newer artists. My favorite piece was a grouping of cigarette butts by Ilse Getz called Cigarette Collage VII. It was dated 1965, much older than the other works. Maybe that’s why I liked it? Getz’s two pieces seemed more authentic than the work of the other artists. I loved how her work had obviously deteriorated over time.

#23: amanda nedham's cigarette sculptures

I found Amanda Nedham’s cigarette sculptures entertaining but they looked more like items from the gift shop at MOMA or the Whitney than gallery pieces. The small pieces were cute. Like I said, I don’t like modern conceptual art. I have to admit, a couple of weeks later, and after spending some time looking at my photograph of her sculptures, they’re beginning to grow on me.

#23: irini miga. "a moment embedded in, 2016"

One piece in the exhibition struck me with it’s simplicity – a pale cigarette fixed on to the white gallery wall. A Scratch on the Wall. A Moment Embedded in, 2016 by Irini Miga. The description mentions the piece is made up of “Cigarette butt, marble dust, left overs of carbon dioxide, water vapor, oxygen and nitrogen.” Even the description of her materials is conceptual! If I photographed my own cigarettes in the studio instead of on the streets, I’d prefer my images looked like the Irini Miga’s sculpture, not like Irving Penn’s photographs of the same subject matter – and I do love Irving Penn.

#23: anne doran. "ad16 1"

The 1988 collage of color photographs by Anne Doran was what I had expected to see in the exhibition. Part of the collage featured a woman’s naked breast with a cigarette. Her piece was so 1980s! The work was called AD16 1. I don’t know the meaning of the collage or if the artist took her imagery from real advertisements? I do know it reminded me of the 80s. It’s the time when I believe the commercial prospects of art became more important than it’s creativity.

#23: asian cigarette butt outside of invisible-exports gallery

I photographed a few of the pieces and headed back into the street for my cigarette photographs. The selection was better now than three days ago. You can see several butts on the ground in my picture of the gallery. There were several Asian brands on the sidewalk and street. I don’t know why these butts still fascinate me? Maybe it’s the colors? Strange, because I typically photograph in black and white. I found several discarded cigarettes I liked, especially the smashed and worn butt on the heavily textured pavement.

#23: smashed cigarette butt outside of invisible-exports gallery

I was early to meet Abby. Now was my chance to try the dumplings at Vanessa’s. My cigarette assignment was finally finished and I deserved a treat. I ordered the chive-and-pork dumplings so I could compare them to the ones I love at Tasty Dumpling. I also asked for an order of basil-and-chicken. It was crowded. The dumplings took a while to arrive. Tasty Dumpling is also crowded right after work hours. Their service is faster. The pork-and-chive dumplings were cold. That did not make me happy. The basil-and-chicken dumplings were good but they tasted like they were made for an American palate. I could cook something similar, better, in my own kitchen. Vanessa’s dumplings were a more expensive but not nearly as good as those at Tasty Dumpling. The price didn’t matter. Taste does. I will go back to Vanessa’s at some point for one more try. The sesame pancake sandwiches looked interesting.

vanessa's dumpling house

In a way, the essay finally ends where it was supposed to begin. Abby and I met up at the New Museum, took a look at the exhibitions and headed down to Chinatown for a late dessert. After 9:00pm that’s not an easy task. Most Chinese cafes are closed by 9:00pm and few restaurants have any desserts besides almond or fortune cookies. I knew the newer XO restaurant had a dessert menu and that’s where we ended up. Besides dessert, I “made” Abby share an order of shrimp dumplings. I love XO’s shrimp dumplings!

abby wen wu at the new musuem

A few weeks earlier, during a group dinner at this same restaurant, I realized Abby needed to be a muse. I studied her face during that entire dinner, deciding how I would capture her image. So far we done two shoots together, one for my Mirror series and a beautiful portrait for the Intimate Portrait project. I began to write about Abby after the Intimate shoot. As I mentioned many pages ago, her story was supposed to be this photo-essay… Cigarettes #10: Abby Wen Wu. I began to write but I felt I needed more of her before I could complete an essay. This Long Walk essay took her place.

abby wen wu. intimate portrait project

Abby’s presence in my life has influenced this story. There is no doubt in my mind she will be the subject of future essays – memories not yet happened – interesting stories indeed.

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04/30/16: smokers’ detritus #9 – kaitlyn/caitlin

my new 24-105mm f4 is lens

I’ve been having problems with my old 24-105mm lens. It has been completely rebuilt and works well with most of my cameras. All was good until Canon gave me, really, gave me a 1Dx camera body for free. My older lenses don’t seem to communicate well with this new camera when it comes to the auto-focus mechanism. The camera appears to be confused, focusing all over the place – not often enough on the subject that needs to be sharp. It’s not good!

Caitlin Trainor was planning a studio showing of two duets she performs with Kaitlyn Gilliland. They would do a rehearsal of the dances early in the afternoon and then perform the same two pieces for a small audience. This would give me a chance to photograph the rehearsal using an old camera body with the questionable 24-105mm lens and afterwards, the performance with the new body with this hapless lens. If more pictures were in focus with the old camera I’d know for sure I had a problem. The good new is If the lens was indeed bad, my contact at Canon had promised to replace it, for free! Sometimes being a decades long good customer has it’s benefits.

barnard gate

I wanted to walk up to Barnard from my apartment but was running late. I had hoped to photograph cigarette butts along Amsterdam on my way up. I took the subway and figured I’d shoot some cigarette remains around the subway stop near Barnard’s front gate. I got out of the subway station at 116th Street and looked around. The streets had been swept clean. There was no dirt, no garbage, no cigarette butts! I’m not sure I had seen anything like it in the entire city. It looked like Chicago!

I finally found a few butts near the Barnard Gate – mostly in the dirt surrounding the small trees planted along Broadway. I walked uptown along Broadway finding a few interesting remains but it was the cleanest stretch of sidewalk I’ve seen since I began the project. I realized I had enough new photographs for this essay and headed into the dance building at Barnard only to get lost in the basement before I finally found the studio with Caitlin and Kaitlyn.

cigarette butt near the barnard gate

I was on time. The dancers were resting, preparing for their run of the two pieces – Kaitlyn/Caitlin, and a new dance — yet unnamed. I had photographed in this studio before. It’s a difficult place to shoot with all of the distracting garbage in the room. The wall of windows forming the background are both wonderful and a problem at the same time. They add great light to the room and when used properly can frame the dancers but at the same time I have to be careful not to have the window frames spike through the heads of the dancers. One thing I especially dislike about location dance photography these days is that the photographers don’t pay attention to the backgrounds. If a pole in the street or a tree branch is coming out of a dancers head it usually isn’t pretty.

For some reason when I’m shooting Caitlin and Kaitlyn together in the studio I always feel self-conscious. It’s the only studio situation where I’ve ever felt this way. I’m not quite sure why. I’m very close friends with Caitlin and she’s very close to Kaitlyn. That’s part of the dynamic and it does matter even though I met both women separately. During a rehearsal Caitlin always wants to know that I’m doing. It’s very sweet that she cares but it’s her rehearsal and should be all about her needs and not remotely about me. During most studio rehearsals I rarely never speak to the choreographer, no matter how close I am to them. This is their time to work and I also need to concentrate. We can talk at some other time. Whatever. It takes me longer to get my focus at Caitlin’s rehearsals but in the end it all works out.

kaitlyn rehearsing "kaitlyn/caitlin" when it was only "kaitlyn"

I’ve shot Kaitlyn/Caitlin almost since it’s inception. It was a solo for Kaitlyn Gilliland until I came upon the scene, thinking it was a duet – a better dance with the two of them together. It seemed different this time in the studio. The last time I photographed the piece was when it was danced in a black box stage. I don’t think the difference was the environment. I believe Caitlin and Kaitlyn have become closer and now relate to each other in a different way. It shows in the dance.

kaitlyn gillaland with caitlin trainor rehearsing the "new" dance

The second dance is a joint-choreographic project, both women working together on the choreography, the mood and steps coming equally from each woman. There is no music. The dance is set to their voices – sometimes conversations between the two women – sometimes their own personal thoughts. Years ago I was not a fan of “talking” during a dance. I felt dance should always be done to music. I’ve worked with Bill T. Jones for over a decade and he has changed how I feel about voice and dance. His work, and especially his most recent pieces are largely based on words as the background for his choreography. Music is most often the background for the conversation.

This piece is new. As a team, Caitlin and Kaitlyn are still working out their choreographic voices. I met Kaitlyn as a classical ballerina and this is her real transition tomodern dance. She wore pointe shoes during this piece but after the showing realized the dance would have been better in bare feet. I don’t know? She’s probably right. Will she be comfortable when her feet touch the ground?

"kaitlyn/caitlin" - windows photoshoped out

It will take me a while to understand the new dance. I wonder if both women understand it themselves. While photographing the showing I felt the words were strong though at times the emotions seemed forced. Still, the words themselves were stronger than the dance. I think that’s because the steps are still new. There was a talk with the audience after the performance was finished and though not fully discussed, I think the conversation led to the possibility the two women hadn’t yet completely let go in this new format of dual choreographers. When I later discussed the dance with Caitlin I told her it is the reason I never do collaborations. I don’t think I can ever be comfortable sharing the content-decisions of my work with another person.

caitlin trainor during a showing of the "new" dance

I had dinner with Caitlin and her husband after the show. We spoke more about the dance at that time and all the things that make life as an artist in New York City difficult. There are so many things both of us want to accomplish – always battling time and the cost of living. We try to figure out how we can survive working solely on our art?

burned matches. 96th and broadway

I walked home, first down Broadway and the final stretch along Amsterdam. I always know I’ll find enough cigarette butts along these streets to make me happy. I passed the church where only a few days before I had photographed Shen Wei and stopped across the street at my local grocery store for milk and kitty litter. I realized my life was approaching a nexus, a link between my friendships, work, and home-life. All were becoming one with no borders. Cats – portrait – cigarettes – dance – dinners – cigarettes – shopping – cats – retouching – cooking – writing… back and forth, all as one. It’s very different than my past life where things were more set. It is enlightening and terrifying at the same time but I have no choice. This is my new path and my reason for being.

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06/18/16: smokers’ detritus #9A – blythe and the mermaid parade

This essay is numbered 9A. In terms of chronological time it is out-of-order. Several interesting events came before this one but I had to write this story soon after it happened. I was afraid if I waited the energy of the day would be lost. This day might have changed my art and my life. It might not seem apparent after your reading. I can understand that. If I am right it will become obvious in future essays written after this time.

coney island

I’m a big fan of Brighton Beach. I go all the time. I’ll use any excuse to breathe ocean air and eat Russian food. This past Saturday was the Coney Island Mermaid Parade.

When it comes to taking photographs I’ve always preferred cloudy days. I shoot in black & white and don’t like the harsh light of the afternoon sun. The weather forecast for the parade was “bright and sunny” – not great for my mermaid pictures. I hoped I would find a few shaded spots, maybe under the pier or up against interesting walls. If I was lucky, late afternoon clouds would roll in giving me that beautiful soft-bright beach light.

I left my apartment late wanting to get to the boardwalk near the end of the parade, a little before 3:00pm. I hoped some clouds would roll in by that time. I promised myself if I wrote about the parade the essay wouldn’t include any cigarette photographs. I couldn’t help myself and I stopped to shoot the Smokers’ Detritus outside of 202 West 81st Street. After that I headed straight to the subway and kept my word for the rest of the afternoon. Brighton Beach. Russians smoke a lot. It wasn’t an easy promise to keep!

cigarettes at 202 west 81st street

I planned to take the Q train to the Aquarium. It’s the closest station to the parade without exiting directly into the crowds. At the last minute I decided to depart earlier, at the Brighton Beach station. I couldn’t stop thinking about the poppy-seed Danish I bought a week earlier at a nearby Russian bakery. My friends Marci and Paul took me to this place, La Brioche, and to say it is amazing would be an understatement. I’ve passed the store many times but never stopped. From the outside it looks like a typical boring modern café.

No way! Once you walk inside it’s like stepping back in time. It reminded me of the Jewish bakeries I visited with my dad on Sunday mornings when I was very young. Only better! Cheese Danish like I haven’t seen in fifty years. I didn’t know what to buy? I wanted everything. I especially love poppy-seed Danish so they were my first choice. Eventually I will try everything.

marci and paul coming out of la brioche

Today I bought two of the poppy-seed Danish (just in case I had to share with mermaid friends) and some kind of spinach-cheese thing wrapped in a flaky pastry crust. Oh my god! It was in my mouth the second I left the bakery and finished before I could make it to the end of the block. Now very happy, I headed over to the Brighton Beach boardwalk.

What a day! The ocean breeze soothed my soul the moment I stepped on the boardwalk. The heat of the sun felt good on my face. The low humidity created perfect weather for an afternoon walk on the beach. I saw clouds forming in the distant west. If they never arrived it wouldn’t matter. I could enjoy today as a beach day, forgetting my cameras and the mermaid photographs.

As I got closer to Coney Island, I could hear music from the marching bands in the parade. I began to pass groups of mermaids, noticing two nearby taking selfies. There was a tall blue construction wall surrounding the new Aquarium. I could use it as a background, to block the sun for my first mermaid pictures of the day. I asked the mermaids if I could take their portrait. They were so nice! I moved the two women against the wall, explaining the light would be better there. They understood instantly and I was able to get a great portrait to begin the day. I had them write their email address to send them copies of the photos. The address ended in “columbia.edu.” Columbia University. That’s my neighborhood! Both women would be perfect for my Intimate Portrait project. I hope they will be interested. Intimate models are a constant quest.

coney island mermaids

I photographed a few more mermaids but the light wasn’t working and the clouds weren’t getting any closer. The parade was getting closer and I knew it was time to get off the boardwalk before it became too crowded to move. A woman was standing alone on the beach, waiting for a friend to join her. The quality of the light was abysmal. At that moment I decided it was time to do a portrait series on the Coney Island beach. This woman would be my first photograph. I would have to discover the light and learn how to make my expensive digital camera “see” the detail and tonality I needed in these new images. I am already involved in too many projects but as far as I’m concerned, there is no such thing as taking too many pictures!

woman on the coney island beach

I moved across the beach, slowly heading in the direction of the parade’s end-point, wandering in and out of the beach-goers, staring at the light on their faces – every now and then clicking off a few frames. I came upon a group of mermaids laying on a parachute – taking selfies with their camera with one of those sticks. I circled the women, hoping to find a situation worth photographing. The women taking selfies on the ground reminded me of my Intimate Portrait shoots. I asked if I could take their portrait – stand among them, above their bodies. I was surprised they agreed. I often feel I hypnotize my models to agree to anything I ask. I know that’s impossible. They must sense I’m someone to trust.

relaxing mermaids

The sun was strong. The light direct. It was difficult for the mermaids to keep their eyes open. In the bright light I could hardly see through the camera. I directed their heads to come together in a circle. It felt comfortable and natural standing, hanging above these mermaids – mingling with their bodies just as I do when standing above my models for the Intimate Portrait series. Here we were, surrounded by thousands of people on the beach yet the photographs felt intimate.

I finally got myself to the Coney Island Pier. It felt good escaping the sun. The light under the pier wasn’t as nice as I had expected but anything was better than the harsh sunlight. I stayed for a while, enjoying the cool breeze and taking portraits of the few mermaids who walked by. A beautiful young Latino girl stood a few feet away, taking selfies for at least ten minutes. I wanted to do her portrait but didn’t feel I should interfere with her personal time. A crowd gathered just north of the pier – mermaids, photographers and cheering fans. I decided to join them, hoping to find a few good pictures.

mermaid and neptune taking a selfie under the coney island pier

As I approached the gathering, I passed a lone woman, topless, sitting cross-legged on a large patterned sheet – the parachute jump looming directly behind her. It was the perfect scene. The light. The composition. It reminded me of black & white photographs I have seen of Coney Island taken in the early 1970s. I always see through my cameras in black & white but now I was seeing through my eyes without color. It was magical.

The beach was crowded but for some reason no one sat near this woman. She appeared at peace though at the same time, powerful. I was surprised she wasn’t completely surrounded by photographers. It was the day of the Mermaid Parade and every beautiful woman, especially those who are topless, are always encircled by the photographic masses. Maybe she was invisible to everyone but me? There was a ring of protective energy around her body – electricity – magnetism. I wanted to photograph her but didn’t want to break the protective bubble. What would happen? I feel people, even in crowds, have the right to their privacy.

blythe: the mermaid of coney island

I absorbed her calm as I passed and arrived to the raucous crowd, now spread out into small groups of photographers and mermaids. Mermaids in the surf. Mermaids on the rocks. Angry and nervous lifeguards trying to maintain order and safety. There was nothing for me here. My pictures are about calm. All I saw was insanity.

I turned back towards the pier and passed her again. The High Priestess. The Mermaid of Coney Island. She was still alone. The scene still appeared perfect. I felt drawn to this woman. I needed to take this portrait. It’s what I had been looking for – the reason for my entire day. As had I texted to my muse Abby earlier this week, “I’m happy but uncertain how to proceed with almost every relationship. At some point it will make sense. I might need a new friend… possibly someone who I haven’t yet met. I’m not sure.”

I walked up to this woman, through her energy bubble, moved my face close to hers and asked, “Is it okay if I take your portrait?”

blythe for the mirror project. coney island

I felt a wave of warmth flow out of her body with her positive response. I was surprised. I don’t know why. Her essence felt exactly as she looked sitting at peace on the beach. This sense of extreme warmth from any person is so rare it always comes as a surprise.

I fought the sun and the elements, trying to get the shot I wanted. Now and then I’d show her one of the images. It was difficult to see in the glare of the sunlight but we knew we were capturing something good. We’d talk in between shots until Blythe invited me to join her – to hang out for a while and talk.

I think we both felt close immediately. I wonder if Blythe is like that with everyone she meets? We spoke like old friends – about my photography and her career as a singer. I watched her face carefully as I do with everyone I photograph, watching how the light and emotions changed the appearance of her face over time. Occasionally I’d interrupt our conversation to take more pictures. We worked on some images for my “mirror” series. We’d shoot for a few minutes, stop and continue talking where we left off.

flask of sand from white sands national monument

We touched each other as we talked – to make a point like close friends do. Her skin was soft and smooth. Cool to the touch. It didn’t feel real. Blythe’s skin reminded me of the sand at White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. The grains of sand so fine the surface of the dunes feel like the skin of a goddess. Maybe embedded in the grains are the spirits of Indian women who once lived there. Laying on the dunes the sand envelops your entire being, cool to the touch but warming to the body. The memory of my afternoon at White Sands has stayed close to me for years.

blythe near the coney island pier

Time passed. I’m not sure how long we talked. One hour, two? Both of us had friends to meet. It was time to leave. We agreed to see each other soon – phone numbers shared. We hugged, and we hugged again before parting ways.

We text back and forth. Now friends on Facebook. One mutual friend… sort of. Emily Pope, who I photographed for my magazine VISION. I wonder if they are “real” friends or just a Facebook connection. Blythe and Emily both love Coney Island. Maybe they met on the beach? Someday I’ll ask.

Blythe and I will shoot soon for my Intimate Portrait project. I’m looking forward to furthering our special connection. I need to listen to her music. I have ideas for a video. I know we’re going to be friends.

www.paulbgoode.com/essays.html

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04/26/16: smokers’ detritus #8 – shen wei dance arts

shen wei dance arts. "rite of spring"

I’ve always been registered as in independent. Ive always thought it was stupid I couldn’t vote in a New York Democratic primary but it never seemed important until this year. I believe Hillary Clinton could be one of the best presidents in history and I needed to vote for her, partially as a vote against Senator Bernie Sanders. It’s not that I don’t agree with his viewpoint – my politics are to his left. I’ve always considered myself to be a Socialist-Communist. I’ve never understood why people hated Communism so much? The politics of the Soviet Union, China and Cuba are not Communism. They are Socialist dictatorships. It’s not remotely the same thing. Either way, Bernie Sanders might have some great ideas but I think he’d be the most ineffective president since Jimmy Carter. Great ideas and great leadership are not the same thing.

A month before the primary, I went online and changed my registration to the Democratic Party, only to hear on the news if one wanted to vote they had to change their registration six months in advance. I was pissed! My registration card came in the mail a week before the primary and I figured “what did I have to lose?” I went to the polling station and there was my name on the rolls. I voted for Hillary. End of story.

west-park presbyterian church

I heard a month or two ago that Shen Wei Dance Arts had moved their studio into the old church on 86th and Amsterdam. It’s only three blocks from my apartment. I’ve passed that church thousands of times during the past four decades and it never seems to change, appearing abandoned with homeless people sleeping on the steps. Not long ago, Noché Flamenco moved into the space and I wondered if it was becoming a new dance center. The building was built over 130 years ago and has always been a Presbyterian Church. I was surprised to learn the congregation still held Sunday services.

My voting location is around the corner from the church. After voting I decided to head over to Shen Wei’s studio to see what was going on. I got to the church and attempted to open the side door on 86th street before seeing a set of doorbells. Before I could press the button listing Shen Wei the door opened. It was like a scene from a movie. The middle-aged Hispanic woman who opened the door was likely the care-taker. She didn’t say a word. I finally said, “I’m going to Shen Wei.” The woman opened the door and I began heading up the wooden steps only to realize I had never seen the inside of the church before. I headed back down the stairs and entered the sanctuary. I asked the woman if it was okay. She looked at me but there was no response. I took that to mean yes.

west-park presbyterian church. sanctuary

I could see there had been a lot of cheap renovation over the years and the stage was not original to the church. Still, it was a beautiful place and there was something wonderful about the simple quality of the room. As much as I love the great European churches and stained-glass windows I’ve always felt places of worship should be plain and simple. Instead of spending great fortunes on churches and synagogues that money should be used to feed and house the poor. It only makes sense.

I headed up the four flights of stairs and when reaching the top I could see into a dance studio lit by large north-facing windows. I didn’t see any people but I heard soft voices and the sounds of bodies moving across the floor. I could feel it was Shen Wei working with his dancers. Since the first time I photographed the company I’ve always felt a spiritual connection with Shen Wei and his dancers.

I spied Stephen Xue in the office and went over to introduce myself. I let him know I only lived three blocks away and it made sense that we worked together. Stephen seemed excited that I wanted to come in and shoot. I don’t know why that always surprises me. I feel it’s an honor when I company lets me into their rehearsals. I was the one who was excited. A few days later I was in their studio shooting.

kate jewett. shen wei dance arts

The first time I photograph a company in the rehearsal studio I try to arrive an hour after the rehearsal period begins. It’s not that I don’t respect the process. I want to get there when the dancers are warmed up and ready for photographs. As with my Intimate Portraits, shooting dancers in the studio requires a great deal of trust from the dancer-models. It’s not a performance. There are no costumes or makeup. They need to believe the moment I walk in the door I’m going to capture them at their best. It’s easier once they’re warm and shaken out the morning’s cobwebs. Once they get used to my presence I can arrive to a rehearsal at any time. I become one with the company.

Shen Wei wasn’t there when I arrived. Every company works differently. Jacqulyn Buglisi always leads her rehearsals. Pascal Rioult is there most of the time and so is Bill T Jones.. When I shot for ABT many years ago, Baryshnikov almost never attended a studio rehearsal unless he was dancing in the piece. Those were the days.

mikhail baryshnikov with kathleen moore. american ballet theatre

I walked into the studio. Through Facebook I already knew many of the dancers and had posted photographs of them after our past work together. Those shoots were dress rehearsals in big theaters so there had never been a proper introduction. Kate Jewett saw me walk in and introduced me to everyone. Alex Speedie, Chelsea Retzloff – they already felt like friends. It’s funny how Facebook changes reality. Social media can be surreal. I try to only see the good in it.

It took me a little while to find my place in the studio. The dancers were amazing. They seemed to trust me immediately. I could get close and not feel as if I was interfering in the rehearsal. The light in the studio was a problem. It was a dreary day and I didn’t get the quality or amount of light I had expected from the large windows. The lights in the ceiling were dim. To get the best light I needed to shoot from the side — a poster covered wall as my background. That didn’t make me happy.

chelsea retzloff. shen wei dance arts

I’ve learned when I’m having trouble I should always shoot close. I focused on the dancers I knew best. Chelsea was flying around right in front of me. It was dark. I was having a hard time just getting the camera to focus let alone finding the right moments and deciding on composition. Chelsea Retzloff really is a force on the stage. I couldn’t help but be inspired by her movement and emotion.

With time I began to figure it out. The light through the window became brighter. More important, as the dancers got deeper into the rehearsal their bodies opened up. There was something special in their movements. I moved around the studio as I photographed the rehearsal, winding in and out of the dancers as they performed across the floor. It usually takes me four of five rehearsals with a new company before I move on to the dance floor but today they all made me feel like I was allowed to enter their space. I was often in their face. I felt their bodies move behind me. Kate and Zak Schlegel were on the floor. I don’t know what piece they were rehearsing. The old wood made a beautiful background. I stood above them — my toes just inches from their heads. I couldn’t get enough space around them. I held the camera high over my head, putting the viewfinder on “live view” so I could quickly check after each picture as it was taken. Did they know I was there? I often wonder. I’m on my tiptoes hanging over their bodies, my white socks almost in Kate’s hair. Yet they go on as if I’m not there. Or do they go on, emotionally deeper into the dance knowing every move is being watched and photographed. It’s a question I rarely ask.

kate jewett and zak schlegel. shen wei dance arts

At the afternoon break the dancers all left the studio to get lunch. It wasn’t the nicest day. I wasn’t sure I wanted to sit outside for thirty minutes. I wondered how I’d feel sitting outside, in my own neighborhood, less than five minutes from my front door. I get into an intense mental state while shooting. Would sitting on my street, across from my local CVS and grocery store, take me out of that place.

I decided to go out. I know the corner the church sits on very well. There are bus stops both on 86th Street and on Amsterdam. Bus stops are some of the best locations for my Smokers’ Detritus series and I’ve shot on this corner before. Shoe’s on. Down the stairs. Out the door.

smokers' detritus. m7/m11 bus stop. 86th and amsterdam

There are almost always homeless people on the steps of the church and this day was no exception. The steps are greasy and dirty. I felt miles away from the beautiful moments I had just captured in the dance studio. I felt too close to home. Of course there was a great selection of cigarette butts around the M7/M11 bus stop on Amsterdam. For some reason the sidewalk around that stop is unusually disgusting! It had been drizzling so the nearby street garbage was basically mush.

I shot the best butts and moved around the corner to the bus stop on 86th. I get very focused when working on this series. Shooting extreme close-ups with a camera or phone is technically difficult. If the focus is off by one quarter of an inch the picture is ruined. Any camera movement is magnified. If I’m not concentrating I lose too many photos.

smokers' detritus. m116 bus stop. 86th and amsterdam

The sidewalk had some very nice textures. I think it’s the backgrounds behind the cigarettes that I love most about the Smokers’ Detritus series. After a time, the cigarette remains will all begin to look the same but the textures of the sidewalks and streets are endless. Near the cigarettes there are often bits of nature on the ground along with all the stains caused by human garbage… oil, gum, coffee, etc. Years ago I did begin to notice the textures in the street when the city repaved Columbus Avenue. The workers were using a new concrete combination that supposedly would last longer. There were so many bits and pieces of different colors and reflectivity in the mix. For a while I noticed how old sidewalks had larger pieces than the newer ones. Over time I began to look up again and forgot what was under my feet. Now my eyes are almost always on the ground.

I heard a voice. It was Chelsea Retzloff. She wondered if she could get a copy of a photo I took of her when she performed in Shen Wei’s Rite of Spring at Lincoln Center. Shen Wei Dance Arts was invited to perform during Paul Taylor’s American Modern Dance’s inaugural season in 2015. I had been stalking Chelsea for a long time on Facebook. I thought she would be a perfect subject for my Intimate Portrait project. I asked her to do a shoot and warned her about the physical contact. She didn’t say no! We’re going to shoot in May or June when the company is back in town. Chelsea’s portraits are going to be amazing!

chelsea retzloff. shen wei dance arts "rite of spring." paul taylor's american modern dance

The dancers slowly returned from their lunch break, standing outside of the church, not quite ready to resume rehearsal. Some of us talked for a minute and headed back up to the studio. The dancers prepared to rehearse Folding. I believe I had seen a dress rehearsal of this dance years ago but wasn’t allowed to take pictures. I think when the dance is performed in New York City the women are topless for part of the piece and the company didn’t want me to have any pictures “like that.” To say the least I was extremely frustrated by that situation. The dance is beautiful. Having all of the dancers topless, men and women, gives them an androgynous look. I imagine that’s the point. Not to allow a dance to be photographed as it is meant to be seen seems a bit silly to me. Thank goodness when I photographed Boston Ballet performing Jiri Kylian’s Bella Figura I was allowed to photograph the entire dance, including when the women were topless. Like Shen Wei’s Folding. Kylian’s dance is an amazing work of art and was the featured photo-essay in the fifth issue of my magazine, the VISION Art Journal.

rie ichikawa and kathleen breen combes. jiri kylian's "bella figura." boston ballet. pages from vision art journal #5

During the lunch break the light had brightened in the studio and the choreography during Folding allowed me to shoot at angles that worked with the windowlight. Shen Wei arrived to the studio. Were the dancers working harder now because of his presence or is it something about Folding that brings out the best in a dancer? It probably was a little of both. The picture possibilities were endless and I shot away, so focused on what I saw through the camera I had to be careful not to run into the dancers as I moved about the studio. They were all good enough to work around me and Shen Wei didn’t seem to consider me a distraction.

At one point in Folding, a group of dancers move slowly upstage while Alex Speedie has a long solo, standing mostly in place at the front of the stage. I moved in front of Alex in a way that made it seem like he was dancing for my camera. Maybe he was? When working with (Martha) Graham I often find incredible energy directed towards the camera while I’m close to the dancers. Alex was intense! I’m sure it was only a couple of minutes but I felt like we had an hour long photo session together.

alex speedie during a rehearsal of "folding." shen wei dance arts

I was aware of nothing in the room but the two of us. The dancers in the background became the shapes I used to balance the composition. For me it was a perfect photographic moment. Shen Wei said something to Alex I couldn’t hear. I think Alex wasn’t exactly at the right spot onstage. Alex said it was because the studio didn’t have enough depth. It is possible but that happened to be the place I was standing. Alex probably could have taken the proper position if I wasn’t in his way. I didn’t feel bad. It did make me feel like Alex had indeed performed for me. It felt right. I later thanked Alex for his concentration.

maria volpe rehearsing "folding." shen wei dance arts

Shen Wei and I spoke for a minute during a short break. He had been watching me as I photographed Alex. He said, “Your concentration is very strong.” I believe he then added, “You work like a poet.” It was an interesting comment. The way I handle shoots has changed very much since I began the Intimate Portrait project. It doesn’t matter if it’s a portrait shoot in the studio or outdoors, a dance shoot in the studio or onstage – I now approach my photography in a more intimate manner. I can’t explain it because I don’t understand the change myself. All I know is it’s working and making my photographs better. More important it has changed the way the people I photograph respond to me while shooting. They embrace the physical and emotional closeness. There is no question this has made me not only a better photographer but also a better person. It would be interesting to consider my new work as photographic poetry.

Posted in art, cigarettes, dance, portrait | Comments Off

04/23/16: smokers’ detritus #7 – soleil acevedo

soleil acevedo - intimate portrait project

I first connected with Soleil Acevedo on Facebook. I believe it was before she shaved her head but I’m not exactly sure. I do know I took notice of her new look when I saw a photograph of Soleil taken by her friend Brooke Trisolini posted on Facebook last March. In the picture, Soleil is hanging on the pole of a subway car with a few onlookers — a nearby couple watching and a few not paying attention at all. The combination of the photograph’s composition and Soleil’s focus on the camera struck me. I’ve seen many dance photographs taken on the subway and they’re all basically boring. This one had something special, enough so I had to comment. I let Soleil know, of all the dancer-subway pictures I had ever seen on Facebook, this was my favorite!

soleil on the subway. photograph courtesy of brooke trisolini

On occasion, I go to the Thursday night gallery openings with my friend Philip Stark. I don’t really love seeing art this way but on a nice spring or fall night it’s fun to wander around Chelsea, looking not only at the art but also the people. Each gallery not only seems to show a certain style of art but also attracts a style of viewers. There are galleries for hipsters, upper east-siders, New York artists who came of age in the 1980s, aging hippies, etc. It is an interesting site. Philip loves this whole process. I only go because I love Philip. It seems to be the only time we ever get together and if I want to see one of my best friends this is the only way I can do it.

Thursday, April 26th. I did my usual round of errands – B&H, Home Depot and Michaels before heading over to Chelsea. I’m learning which routes to take if I want to find the most interesting cigarette butts. This day was special. At the B&H camera store I bought a lens-extender. Now I could use a “real” camera instead of my phone for closeups of the cigarettes. At first I bought an off-brand extender that looked good, immediately testing it on some cigarettes outside of B&H. Bad! The extender didn’t allow the lens to speak properly to the camera. I know this might seem boring but it’s important. I immediately returned the third party device and bought Canon’s extender for triple the price. I can’t say it was worth the extra money but at least it worked! That’s really what matters.

flowers on 34th street - in memory of prince

The camera with the new extender “saw” the cigarette remains in a different way than the phone. I can’t put it into words but the pictures seemed more real to me. I still see my iPhone as some kind of toy… not a device to be used as a professional camera. I was loving the results as I made my way east on 34th Street, stopping to photograph some purple flowers in memory of Prince.

cigarette butts on west 24th street

Shooting all along my route, there were some nice butts along 24th Street. It was past 6:00pm and gallery openings only go until 8:00pm. I was already in the gallery district so I called Philip to check out his schedule. He was on the way and would call when he got close. I looked at my list of openings and decided to begin with Nir Arieli’s show at Daniel Cooney Fine Art.

invitation for nir arieli's "flocks" exhibition at daniel cooney fine art. (batsheva dance company)

Nir also photographs dancers and I admire his work. He is one of the few dance photographers who has a distinctive style, always molding the models to his own viewpoint. You can always tell a Nir Arieli photograph when you see one. The gallery space was smaller than I remembered it. I could tell some of the people in the space were dancers. That’s always obvious. Dancers don’t look human. I didn’t like the prints on the wall. Nir’s work is great but the printing looked like it was done by a headshot lab. I stayed a few minutes and left, waiting by the elevators for Philip to arrive.

Philip wanted to see the Arieli show and as we walked back to the gallery I ran into the choreographer Fadi Khoury. I took some wonderful photos of Fadi and his muse Sevin two years ago. Fadi has done amazing things with his company in that short time. We decided we should work together again. I’ve been working on a new project photographing companies in the dance studio and Fadi’s dancers will be perfect.

fadi khoury and sevin ceviker in my studio posing for the mirror series

Back in the gallery I took the time to take a closer look at Arieli’s photographs with Philip. I don’t think he noticed the printing as much as I did but he did feel the images were mostly bland. I love Arieli’s work and found a brochure of his photographs lying on a shelf, beautifully printed and featuring the photographs as I had always seen them. After looking at the brochure, Philip understood why I was a fan of Arieli’s photography. I only wished the prints on the wall were as beautiful as those printed in his brochure.

During this second visit to the gallery I had kind of “stalked” a woman who was also attending the show. It wasn’t amorous stalking. I felt I knew this woman, believe it or not from Facebook. She was exotic and appeared to have recently shaved her head, now with a short growth similar to a marine’s hair cut. I have two Facebook friends with this look and I couldn’t figure out which one she was.

Philip was ready to move on. I never talk to strangers. I’m too shy. I couldn’t let this woman go. I walked up to her, introduced myself and said, “I know we are friends on Facebook.” First I asked her if she had tattoos on her arm. Wrong guess? She was the other shaved head Facebook friend. “Did you recently post a photograph of yourself on the subway?” She replied, “Yes!”

soleil acevedo. perfect with no makeup. intimate portrait project

“I’m the person who posted that photograph was the best picture of a dancer on the subway I’ve ever seen!” Now she knew who I was. She is, Soleil Acevedo. It was quite the coincidence and it is why I find Facebook fascinating. Soleil called over her friend Brooke. Brooke is a dancer and photographer. Brooke took the photo of Soleil on the subway. Brooke doesn’t know it yet but I’m going to ask her to pose for the Intimate Portrait series.

Soleil and I did the cell phone thing. She gave me her phone – I called my phone. Now we had each other’s number. Sometimes doing this makes me feel old. I still like using a pen and paper though for this essay, since I’m out of town, I happen to be writing on my laptop. It doesn’t feel natural. We chatted for a while. Soleil is a charming woman. I told her we must shoot soon. When I first saw her on Facebook with that shaved head I knew I needed her to be part of my Intimate Portrait project. I told Soleil I’d call her to set up a shoot. She did seem truly excited.

The next day I sent Soleil a message on Facebook to see if she could shoot on Saturday, the next day. Soleil was available in the late afternoon. We were set.. Usually, at this point I send the model a link to my blog, www.paulbgoode.com/journal, so they can read essays about past Intimate shoots. I don’t want the models to be completely surprised by the intense emotions coming out of these shoots, let alone the physicality. For some reason I decided not to discuss this with Soleil. I waited until she arrived at my apartment. I have no idea why I made this decision. Something inside me said it was for the best. When Soleil arrived I would make tea, we would talk, look at pictures and then begin our shoot.

caitlin trainor. intimate portrait project

Soleil was late. New York City trains! It was okay with me. I was sorting photographs for the essay on Caitlin Trainor and looking at those pictures gave me inspiration for my shoot for Soleil. She arrived. I made tea. We talked. I finally explained what I wanted to do – what the Intimate Portrait project was all about – Soleil wasn’t too happy.

Soleil is private and doesn’t like her personal space invaded. I definitely invade the model’s personal space during the Intimate shoots. I used to be like her before I began this series. If a friend stood too close to me, I wanted to back away. If a friend touched me while we talked, I would jerk away. The movement was slight but my own reaction annoyed me. I wasn’t always like that and didn’t understand why I found touch an invasion of my privacy. I wondered if it had something to do with living alone for many years or if it was something deeper.

Soleil took a leap of faith, trusted me and we began shooting. Only for a few seconds did she seem distressed by the closeness of our two bodies and soon I was sitting on her lap, shooting away as I do during every Intimate shoot. I showed her some photographs in the back of the camera. I asked her if she was uncomfortable. In the pictures she looked strong and relaxed. Soleil said she was good at acting and that indeed she was uncomfortable, though at the same time willing to continue.

soleil acevedo. there is always laughter during an intimate portrait session

I needed bare shoulders, I always do, and once again Soleil pushed past her boundaries, removing her blouse, obviously more exposed than she wanted to be in her bra and jeans. But I shot on, stopping every few minutes, showing her the most recent photographs and making sure she was okay. I always worry when I do the Intimate shoots with a dancer I don’t know. I’ve shot dance for thirty-five years and I’m well known. I don’t want anyone to ever do anything for me because they feel like they have no choice. There is always a choice. I will always respect the limitations of a model. They should never do anything that makes them uncomfortable.

I was worried about Soleil and I wrapped her body in a blanket, one my mother knit for me 30 years ago. I keep it on top of my couch at all times. I wrap myself in it on cold nights when I’m watching television late at night. It’s a connection to a family I’ve rarely seen since moving to New York City almost 40 years ago. I’m not sure the blanket made Soleil feel any better but I was not stopping. Her pictures were special. Image after image was perfect. I needed her to like me – not as a friend but as a muse relating to a photographer. The friendship could come later. These pictures were important to me. Like my other muses, Soleil was making me a better photographer. There was something special in the way she used her arms and hands to frame her face and body. Soleil really was the perfect Intimate Portrait model.

soleil acevedo. reflection in compact

I could tell she needed a break. We had been shooting without makeup. I thought Soleil looked beautiful with a clean face – still so exotic but I did want to try some shots with mascara and lipstick. I photographed Soleil while she put on her makeup, using her compact for a mirror. I was surprised she didn’t put her blouse back on during this time. I hoped that meant she was now more relaxed. Of course I was happy because her bare shoulders made the photograph — framing the bottom of my images. Shooting these images I was still very close to her. My Mirror Series photographs also require touch and the Intimate Project is an extension of what I learned when first taking those images. I remember being smashed into Madison McDonough’s side while photographing her in my bedroom mirror, only to find out while walking her home after the shoot that she was only 16. Her spirit was much older but it did make me feel a little weird.

Soleil went back to my couch and began to shoot again. She felt more comfortable this time but I knew to be careful with the physicality. I kept my body off of hers more than I had with anyone since the beginning of the series. I’ve gotten used to muses like Alyssa Forte who want to feel the full weight of my body while we shoot. It’s difficult to take a step back after photographing women like her. When I work with Alyssa it feels like our bodies are one. We move as one. The photographs are part of a joint meditation. I wanted to feel that from Soleil.

alyssa forte. intimate portrait project

This shoot was unusual for me. Ha! I imagine it was unusual for Soleil too. What I saw through the camera was one of the most relaxed women I had ever photographed. During the last half hour I felt the tension leave her body. Still, when we spoke I realized she hadn’t let go. In some ways it was frustrating. After the Intimate Portrait shoots the models always feel like the experience was special – something positive. Every time I stopped to show Soleil the photograph I felt her discomfort. That’s not positive. It was hard to understand. The photographs were amazing appearing as if she was the most relaxed person in the world. So I moved on.

soleil acevedo. comfortable? intimate portrait project

Afterwards we spoke for a long time, at length about the difficultly of being a woman in New York City. Men on these streets can be real pigs. All that emotion I had hoped for while we were shooting now came out. The Intimate Portrait shoots can be a release for the models and I realized Soleil was finally letting go. She rarely looked at me while we talked. She needed to get things out of her head. I mostly listened and agreed.

When Soleil arrived that afternoon I gave her a book of photographs by Lillian Baseman. Baseman is one of my all-time favorite photographers. A friend had given me the book the week before and I already owned a copy. I knew Soleil was interested in photography. I wanted to give this book to a young photographer who would use it for inspiration. Soleil knew of Baseman. That surprised me. It seems that most young photographers these days have little or no knowledge of photographic history. I do my best to educate the people I meet. It was the perfect gift for her.

soleil acevedo. intimate portrait project

As Soleil prepared to leave I made sure she had the book. I wanted there to be something positive about the afternoon and I had no idea how she really felt about our shoot. Now, a few weeks later I’m still not sure. I told Soleil I have an old Nikon I’d like to give her. I have many old film cameras I’ll never use again and I want them to end up in the hands of people who will treasure them as much as I did during the many years and thousands of rolls of film I shared with them. I guess the Nikon will be the reward if Soleil is brave enough for a second shoot. If there is a next time I hope she will trust me to look deeper into her soul. If not for me, I’m sure a choreographer out there will recognize Soleil’s special quality and transform her into their beautiful dancing muse.

Posted in art, cigarettes, dance, intimate, portrait | Comments Off

04/14/16: smokers’ detritus #6 – aipad

smokers' detritus on west 83rd street

I’ve attended AIPAD a bunch of times during the past twenty years. Five years ago when I decided to become a full-time artist, it became a yearly event for me. AIPAD is “The Association of International Photography Art Dealers.” From what I can tell, it’s member galleries are supposed to live by a certain code of ethics. I guess that means if a photographer creates an edition of five prints, a gallery better not sell a sixth. Hmmm! Wandering through the booths at AIPAD, seeing multiple copies of master prints and contact sheets selling for $10,000, I oftenwonder about the ethics of the galleries. I’ll write about that on another day. The show is at The Armory on 67th and Park Avenue. It was a lovely spring day and I decided it was the perfect opportunity for a walk through Central park. Certainly another chance to merge the Smokers Detritus project with my daily life.

hunters gate. central park. courtesy google maps

grace davidson for grishko

My block on West 83rd Street is a cigarette graveyard. I had no trouble finding good subject matter in front of the local fire station. It’s always a good spot for interesting cigarette remains. Walking the few blocks to the park I entered a little know entrance at 81st and Central Park West named “Hunters Gate.” After some research I found out it’s one of the twenty original entrances to the park, each named in 1862 by the parks’s Board of Commissioners. I’ve shot many pictures near this spot including an ad for Grishko featuring the young dancer, Grace Davidson. Grace was the perfect natural beauty for this setting. I wonder what happened to her?

I walk these paths several times each month. They lead to my favorite location in the park. Flowers were blooming everywhere and I stopped to look at a group of Daffodils. When I was in high school I knew them as Jonquils. The flower store near my girlfriend’s house always had them in the spring.

jonquils in central park

I must have brought her dozens of bouquets during the three years we were in love. I think of her every spring when I see these blooms. I know she wanted to marry me but I wasn’t the right person. Lori did marry the right man and had three sons. Unfortunately, I heard she passed away seven or eight years ago from Leukemia. Life’s twists and turns are often unexpected.

lori sucherman. union pier, michigan. august, 1971

The path leads to a pair of tunnels. The light is always perfect in this location – night or day – any weather. I photographed Caitlin Trainor here a few weeks ago. I’ve always felt there is a history to this spot. Something spiritual. Native Indians must have performed rituals her 500 years ago. I don’t feel like I’m in New York City when I’m shooting here. I don’t know why it took me so long to find this place. It’s only a few blocks from my home. I believe my first shoot on this spot was with Erin Arbuckle on July 31. 2012. She already was my muse at that time. Erin is a true muse – an ethereal beauty who was an inspiration every time I pointed my camera in her direction. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I wonder if she can handle one of the Intimate Portrait shoots? If she could it would be an amazing experience resulting in some very special pictures.

tunnels in central park

I’ve never been afraid to walk or ride through the park, whether it be during a snowstorm or for a summer stroll at 2:00am. Central Park is the reason I moved to the Upper West Side almost 39 years ago. My first apartment was in the East Village and my brain definitely belongs there, only I couldn’t stand all the concrete. I needed some green. I had to move uptown. My apartment is only a few blocks from Central Park to the east and Riverside Park to the west. It’s the perfect location. I’ve made thousands of trips into both parks, enjoying all the nature both places have to offer.

erin arbuckle. central park. july 31, 2012

When I was a fashion photographer in the late 70s and early 80s I did many test shoots in Central Park. There weren’t many people to interfere and at the time you didn’t need a permit for personal photography. Ann Bucklin was one of my first muses and I loved every shoot we did together. She was crazy and fun. We always laughed. She had a lot of spunk. Ann was so strong she sometimes scared me… in a good way. I think the photo at Bow Bridge was taken in 1978? I have no idea where that dress came from? I do remember it was the best picture in my portfolio at the time. I was in love with Ann but never let her know. When it comes to love relationships I’m always very shy and usually have to be hit on the head to open up. I wonder if she knew? Ann, if you read this essay I still love you!

ann bucklin with bow bridge. central park. 1978

I stopped for a self-portrait and then headed across 72nd street. The park is always crowded now. Bethesda Fountain is always full of tourists and performers. It’s like Times Square. I miss the days when I could sit at the fountain and meditate. I guess some would call this progress. It’s happening all over Manhattan. Sometimes I feel like I live in a theme park.

self-portrait with bow bridge in central park

I realized if I didn’t get myself out of the park I would never make it to AIPAD. Seeing the show was important. I left the park at 68th Street and raced over to Park Avenue. There weren’t many cigarettes on the ground. The doormen and street cleaners obviously do a better job on the East Side than in my neighborhood. Some things never change.

woman's cigarette butt. 67th and park avenue

In the median on Park Avenue, just across from The Armory, there was the perfect cigarette butt. I normally don’t shoot in the sun but the placement of this butt was perfect. I could get The Armory in the background. I had to half-hang into the street. The cars and taxis didn’t care if they ran over my leg. I know I was being a crazy person but give me a break! Drivers in New York don’t care about anything but going as fast as they can to make the next red light. I ride my bike everywhere so I”m used to it. I don’t have to like it. I crawled on the ground and managed to get off a few shots before I realized having the use of my leg was probably more important than this one photograph.

AIPAD is quite an amazing show. The four long aisles of booths feature galleries from all over the world. For galleries and collectors, this is a place to sell and buy art. The show isn’t really meant for people like me, photographers who want to get an idea of what the galleries are showing. Here the galleries feature the pieces they think they have the best chance of selling. This changes over time. Years ago it was almost always classic black and white photography. Beginning in the year 2000, current color work began to creep into the show, dominating the show by 2012. After that things began to change with the economy. The prices of classic photography by the masters skyrocketed while more recent work was a tougher sell. The old work began to occupy much of the wall space. I love seeing these photographs but unfortunately it doesn’t give me an idea which galleries might be appropriate for my work.

aipad

I do appreciate “classic” photography much more than work done after 1980. This year at AIPAD the walls and bins were filled with some of my favorites. Photographs by two photographers I love, Ruth Bernhard and Harry Callahan, sat side-by-side. I didn’t learn about Bernhard’s work until I frequented photo galleries in the 1980s but Callahan has been one of my favorites since I began shooting seriously in high school. I probably knew about him early on because he had lived and worked in Chicago, often photographing his wife Eleanor. I sometimes wonder if the photographs of his wife are part of the reason I felt the need to have muses. They are special. A portrait of my muse Larissa, taken for the Intimate Portrait project, reminds me of one portrait of his wife. I love both images and how it they always remind me of where my photography began.

harry callahan - eleanor chicago 1948; paul b. goode - larissa new york city 2016

My good friend and photographer, Leslie Jean-Bart, met me at the show. When he arrived I had already wandered for an hour and the distraction of a friend was a relief from the intensity of viewing so many images. Leslie’s work was featured in the fifth issue of my magazine VISION Art Journal. He is doing some remarkable work, photographing reflections in the water at Brighton Beach and Coney Island. We ran into Julie Grahame, the publisher of Acurator, an online photography magazine that has promoted the careers of many photographers. Julie is incredibly knowledgeable about what makes a photograph great and her reviews of my own work have helped me immensely.

leslie jean-bart and julie grahame with unknown photographer at aipad

Leslie and Julie sat and chatted while I continued to wander the exhibition booths. I found a portrait by Man Ray I had never seen before. The emotion of this photograph seemed different than any of his images I had previously seen. Though Man Ray used his solarization technique it seemed less abstract than his other work. Maybe it was taken during the time Lee Miller worked as his apprentice. I feel her hand in this work. At first I thought the photograph was a horizontal image mis-mounted vertically. I soon realized I was wrong, but still, weeks later, I want to turn the photograph on it’s side. I wonder if I love it so much because of the model’s hand. Hands have become a necessary element in many of my Intimate Portrait images, beginning with my first shoot with Elise Ritzel. The way she used her hands in the photographs changed the way I viewed the project. It became as much about shapes as it was about emotions. Take away the fabric and the solarization from Many Ray’s photograph and this image could be my own.

Leslie was frustrated by the lack of new work. I understood his feelings. Leslie’s photographs are ready gallery shows. He has the prints. I probably need six more months before I’m ready to show my work to the curators. I have been selling some prints on my own but there is nothing like a gallery show to get an artist’s career moving forward.

We managed to get through the entire show and headed home. My original plan was to photograph cigarette butts while I walked back up the East Side but now I had a companion. I didn’t want him to wait while I searched for the perfect butts along Park Avenue’s curbs. I should have known there would be an endless selection of cigarette remains right outside of The Armory. Leslie, with his good nature, allowed me to photograph the best of this smokers’ detritus. If I wanted, he would have let me shoot away for an hour but I knew that wouldn’t be fair. I would have another chance later after we parted ways.

cigarette remains in front of the park avenue armory

Leslie’s a great walking partner. I don’t have many friends like him anymore. After we separated at 96th and Broadway my gaze quickly fell to the street. Now back in my neighborhood there were cigarettes everywhere. Either no one ever sweeps the streets or there are so many smokers the cleaners can’t keep up with the thousands of butts tossed on to the street every day. It took me almost an hour just to make it to 92nd and Amsterdam. Fortunately it was getting dark and since I was using my phone as the camera, I needed daylight to get the image quality I wanted.

cigarette remains with dog tag. 92nd and amsterdam

When I’m shooting for the Smokers’ Detritus series I always look for abstract designs or other detritus elements to make the photographs more interesting. Between 91st and 92nd street, there on the ground was something new – two cigarette butts and a dog tag, license number 3182503. I looked it up on the NYC Health Department website. Inactive. Expiration date 02/09/2016. I wondered what happened to the dog? Did the people move away? Did the dog lose the license? I hoped the dog didn’t die but I know that happens. I have many pets. Were those cigarettes smoked by the dog’s owner? No one lives forever… especially smokers.

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04/03/16: smokers’ detritus #5 – caitlin trainor

04/16/16: It seems none of my days go as planned. Lately it’s been this way too often. I was excited to shoot Carmen Salta and Caitlin Trainor together, first for my Intimate Portrait project and then out in Central Park for the rock/rope series. It was going to be amazing! But as with everything in my life right now, it didn’t go as planned. I’ve always been spontaneous but this is getting ridiculous!

caitlin with carmen: only in my imagination

I began this essay during one of my frequent trips to the Metropolitan Museum, two weeks after my shoot with Caitlin. I’m sitting in the modern art wing. Two men walk by and one exclaims to the other, “This is a real Jackson Pollock!” Really! What did he expect to see in the museum? I can still be surprised by an American’s lack of artistic knowledge. Our education system stinks!

2 men looking at jackson pollock's "autumn rhythm (number 30)"

I text Carmen two hours before the shoot asking her to bring pointe shoes. She texts back canceling the shoot. She’s sick. I wonder when she would have let me know she wasn’t showing up? It ends up being good for Caitlin. She’s running late and now doesn’t have to rush. I’m disappointed – not only about the pictures I’ve lost. I had dreamt about Caitlin choreographing a duet between her and Carmen and thought this shoot would bring them together. It’s a squandered opportunity and I’ve already moved on with my endless list of possible artistic collaborations.

04/26/16: Another week has passed. I’ve had a lot of time to think about my shoot with Caitlin. It was quite extraordinary. I’ve photographed her many times – both portrait shoots and as a dancer. This was the first time she felt like a muse. Since it was a shoot for my Intimate Portrait project this new feeling was emotional and physical.

caitlin trainor: intimate portrait project

This was the first time I’ve seen Caitlin completely let go during one of our photo sessions. There was no fear. The only other time I saw this in her was during a performance of her solo, Self-portrait, reflected, where photographs of Caitlin posing on my rooftop are projected on the background during the dance. Don’t get me wrong, there are photographs of Caitlin in my portfolio. But she had never had this energy before. During the Intimate Portrait sessions the models and I have a special connection – even after 100 shoots it’s something I’m unable to explain. Maybe there is a reason this spiritual connection is meant to remain a secret. All I know is it almost always happens. Caitlin is one of my best friends but I’ve never felt this kind of connection during our shoots. She always tried too hard – worried about her age – could never completely let go.

caitlin trainor: relaxing for the intimate portrait project

This time was different. I don’t know why. It didn’t come from me. During the past few months I haven’t shot much and I’ve been relying on the models to reach into my soul – pulling on the artistic side of my brain – making great photographs happen. Natalie Deryn Johnson and Alyssa Forte both do that for me. My newest muse, Soleil Acevedo, also has that power but doesn’t seem to understand why. There will be much more about Soleil in a future essay!

Caitlin and I hadn’t had a good talk in months so we sat and chatted for an hour before I picked up the camera. People transform in the environment of my apartment as does the light coming in my living room window. I’m always watching. Sometimes I see an alignment of light and emotion. Right then I need to pick up the camera and begin shooting. It is “a “need,” just like an addict needs their fix. Something happened to Caitlin in the light. The Intimate shoots are about being as connected as possible. She took off her top and we began our work.

I’m on the model’s body during these shoots. Physically everyone feels different. It’s about body shapes – waists and hips – the body’s temperature. It’s about trust and our ability to feel comfortable while working with this connection.

caitlin trainor becomes a muse

Caitlin and I have shot for the Intimate Portrait project before but I have never felt comfortable on her body. She has big bones with the matching musculature. My lack of comfort wasn’t emotional. We’re very close. I just could never find my place on her body. In the best of situations this shooting process is technically difficult. With Caitlin I always felt like I was on a bucking-bronco seconds away from a toss into the dirt.

I don’t know why it was so different this time? Unlike the other shoots, this day I melted into her body. At first it was a distraction. I wanted to understand the difference. I could see it in the pictures as we worked together. Caitlin’s face was different. There was no stress. All of her emotions, her secrets, opened up to the camera.

caitlin with her wedding ring

I don’t know for how long we continued to shoot. During the best sessions time stands still. I knew I worked hard – drops of my sweat falling on Caitlin’s body. The emotions were incredible. Caitlin was like a wild animal. There was both a sexuality and sensuality I had never seen in her before. It was as if she had lost control. Caitlin was aware of these emotions but didn’t know why they were streaming out of her.

I’m also a good friend of Caitlin’s husband and thought about him on and off during the shoot. If asked myself how would I explain it this shoot to him? There are no words. To explain how the shoot felt I would have to touch him as Caitlin and I had touched. Although I feel the model’s warmth, the photographs are still work. I’m taking pictures – my eye is smashed up against the viewfinder – focusing – struggling to keep the camera still – watching the light… but it’s more than that. The physical contact during the shoot allows me to feel the pictures as if they are something real. They are no longer a two-dimensional depiction of a model on paper or on a computer’s screen. Unlike any other work I’ve done, these photographs embody the physicality, a warmth and understanding between two people.

caitlin trainor: intimate portrait project

The contact allows that to happen. Looking at these pictures of Caitlin on my monitor, they are more than beautiful photographs. I also feel a physical connection to them, to her, allowing for a stronger emotional reaction to the images. You can also see it in the model’s eyes. It’s more than posing for a picture. It is about the merging of two physical bodies and the electric activity of two minds. (I’d love to have an EEG machine hooked up to both brains during an Intimate Portrait shoot.) With Caitlin it was unlike anything I had ever experienced during an Intimate shoot. It was as if she had released all of her emotions at once, those that she had once held back during our previous shoots.

The funny thing is that the shoot was secondary to the real reason Caitlin came over to my apartment that afternoon. The main reason I asked Caitlin to visit was to blow eggs out of their shells, helping me prepare for my upcoming Easter egg dyeing party. The shoot was an afterthought. As long as she was coming over, why not shoot. How we had the energy to blow out two dozen eggs after the experience of that shoot, I have no idea?

caitlin trainor: champion easter egg blower

Caitlin is the champion egg-blower. Let me explain. To properly dye eggs in the Ukrainian style the egg inside needs to be removed from the shell. Small holes are bored into each end of the egg, the yolk is broken and stirred with a thin metal wand then finally, and gently, you wrap your mouth around the egg and blow out it’s contents. It is not easy. A tuba player would struggle. For some reason this batch of eggs was particularly difficult. The shells were thin and the yolks were stiff. We needed every bit of our aerobic strength to get the insides out. Caitlin was frustrated and broke a few eggs. We laughed a lot. No worries. All the eggs ended up as frittatas.

caitlin trainor in central park

I had bought a new 70-200mm lens the week before and still hadn’t removed it from the box. The second reason I asked Caitlin to visit was to give me a chance to test this lens. I asked her if she still had the energy for more pictures. Her husband had made dinner and she was already late. I knew my question was basically rhetorical. Caitlin is always up for more pictures. We headed out to Central Park. At least it was in the direction of her apartment. It was already dark but I knew the path near my favorite location was lined with streetlights. I wanted to give the lens a real test. Would the auto-focus work in the dark with Caitlin dressed in dark clothes, posing against a dark background?

Of course, once we got there Caitlin had endless energy. She was all over the place. I was tired and could hardly hold up the heavy camera. It was so dark I could only see her as a moving shadow. I thought the lens kept her in focus but I wasn’t really sure. I don’t think I’ve shot in a situation like that since working with Jamie Rae Walker in 2009 – also in Central Park. During that shoot, Jamie didn’t move and that camera still couldn’t focus on her face. I had Jamie hold up her hand and wave, giving me some idea of where to manually focus. It was difficult. Caitlin never holds still. We shot over 800 pictures. It was a fun way to end the day.

jamie rae walker in central park

I know it can be silly but I’m trying to relate all my recent essays to the Smokers’ Detritus series. I needed to photograph a cigarette butt before Caitlin and I could say good-bye. I didn’t think I’d find any until we left the park but looking down at my camera bag, there was a discarded butt only inches away. The light was good. I shot the butt and I took a snapshot of Caitlin laughing at my eccentric behavior. I know that’s why she loves me. There’s nothing better than having an intense artistic experience with such a beautiful friend.

caitlin trainor after our shoot in central park

Under normal conditions this essay would have ended here. I’d pull out a fresh sheet of paper and begin the sixth essay in the Smokers’ Detritus series, talking about my visit to the photographic gallery show, AIPAD. But there is more to this story.

cigarette butt in central park

Thirty minutes before I began writing this essay, while sitting in the sculpture garden at the Museum of Modern Art, I visited the galleries showing the Jackson Pollock exhibition. I had seen this show a few weeks ago but I wanted to look at the work again. Three days ago, I had seen the Lee Krasner exhibition at the Robert Miller Gallery in Chelsea. Lee Krasner and Jackson Pollock were wife and husband.

jackson pollock and lee krasner (photo: hans namuth)

I stopped to snap a photo of the wonderful mural portrait of Jackson Pollock working with Lee sitting in the background. Hearing what I thought might be a talk in the next gallery, I walked over to find a group of college students on a Jackson Pollock lecture-tour. I love sitting in on these talks. Typically I wander a museum alone, viewing whatever interests me at that moment of time. Taking part in these lectures forces me to look at art I might never have noticed.

The painting they were discussing was Pollock’s Full Fathom Five, one of his first “drip” paintings. According to the museum’s description, “An assortment of detritus, including cigarette butts, coins, and a key, are enfolded by the paint.” How perfect! The lecturer explained this addition of detritus by Pollock as a deliberate act. I imagined his process in a different way – the artist smoking while leaning over his canvas, tossing paint back and forth, accidentally dropping the cigarette on to his work, covering it with the latest splash of paint.

cigarette embedded in jackson pollock's "full fathom five" (detail)

Picking out the cigarette would have ruined his work. Why not leave it in place? Sometimes accidents lead to genius. As Pollock splashed and dripped paint on the canvas he searched for more detritus on the studio floor, adding it to his work – completely covering some of the pieces, leaving others partially exposed. I find it interesting that art experts always need to find a reason for everything in a work of art. As an artist, I know many creations have little meaning or prior thought. They are works created by spontaneous acts and emotions.

cigarette outside the museum of modern art

I had parked my bike on the 54th Street side of the museum and knew from previous experience there would be a choice of discarded cigarette butts nearby. I photographed several before riding home through Central Park. Like Pollock’s painting, I never know how my essays will proceed, but an artist needs to know when a work is finished.

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03/31/16: smokers’ detritus #4 – natalie at brighton beach

mussel shell and cigarette butt. brighton beach

I needed a day out of the city and away from the computer. Brighton Beach has become my go-to place for an afternoon of meditation and peace. I love picking up food from the Russian buffet at Brighton Bazaar, having a picnic on the boardwalk. I half-watch the Russian emigres stroll by, looking part American and half-Russian. Many still have that “Soviet” look, the men in matching sweat suits or black leather jackets appearing to imitate Sylvester Stallone. The women wear too much makeup for a stroll on the beach or shopping on Brighton Beach Avenue — too much gold jewelry.

my dig overlooking the illinois river. koster site

I always go alone except during Friday nights in the summer. Then the trips are as much about the Coney Island fireworks as they are about the beach time and Russian food. I love this alone time! I can walk forever without worrying about a friend getting tired or cold. In recent months I’ve spent much of my time at Brighton Beach photographing cigarette remains for my Smokers’ Detritus series. This is a solitary project. As with still life photography, it’s best to do it alone — no distractions. Photographing cigarette butts on the beach reminds me of my time as an archeologist — walking the barren land, concentrating on the subtle differences in the soil, searching for signs of the discarded remains of humanity.

coney island: friday night fireworks

I looked up the weather and saw the day was going to be a balmy 72 degrees. I thought of Natalie. We’ve talked about doing pictures for my Intimate Portrait project on the beach, Natalie partially buried in the sand. This might be the perfect day. I sent Natalie a text and she was free. We’d both take the B train and meet at the last stop… Brighton Beach Avenue.

manhattan bridge

I always get on the back of the train. It lets me off close to Brighton Bazaar. I just missed a B at 81st Street and took the next C, grabbing the A at 59th hoping I’d catch up to the B in The Village. At the 4th Street station I ran down the stairs, just in time to catch that B. I settled into my seat and pulled out TIME magazine for the long ride. As the train crossed over the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn, I snapped a few photos with my phone. I’ve been thinking about beginning a new photo series based on the subway and I’m trying to figure it out. I imagined Natalie was on a train at least 15 minutes ahead of me. I sent her a text saying I was 30-40 minutes from Brighton. Ten minutes later I received a video from Natalie, crossing the Manhattan Bridge. Now I guessed she was 15 minutes behind my train. I thought it was funny we both photographed our crossing of the bridge. I sent her one of my photos.

We texted back and forth during the ride. I sent her a photo of the people on my subway car. Natalie decided the man and woman should get together. From my observations I decided the woman was a real estate agent and the man a musician.

b train: subway riders in brooklyn

Natalie: “I think it’s funny – an unlikely couple.”

At Sheepshead Bay, one stop from Brighton Beach, I let Natalie know I was almost there and I’d pick up food from the buffet. She texted back, “I’m at Sheepshead. I want to go to the buffet. Pickled Beets!”

Me: “We’re on the same train!”
Natalie: “Haha! Love it – thought so.”

natalie on the brighton beach avenue subway platform

We were at opposite ends of the train. I’m at the back and Natalie in the front. We took pictures and exchanged our views from the train. Natalie and I had both taken the same A train from 59th Street, both rushed down the stairs and taken the same B at 4th Street. What was the chance of that happening?

We met on the subway platform, bought our food and headed over to the boardwalk for a picnic. The closer we got to the ocean the colder it got. The wind gusts were strong. This was not going to be a day for the easy Intimate Portrait shoot I had imagined. I hoped Natalie would still go through with it.

newport pack on brighton beach

Natalie spied hundreds of seagulls going crazy over the ocean. I had never seen a swarm like that, the gulls in a tight slowly moving flock close to the shore, diving like missiles into the water. They must have found a school of small fish and were now in the midst of a feeding frenzy. The gulls drifted west along the coastline. We followed them in awe before realizing we were freezing in the strong wind. Natalie and I headed back to the boardwalk, finally enjoying our Russian treats. I stopped along the way to photograph an empty Newport pack in the sand. In the harsh sunlight it reminded me of the photographs I’ve seen of Hiroshima after the nuclear blast.

coney island

The weatherman had predicted a cloudy day, perfect for my portraits, but the sky was clear. Natalie had never been to Coney Island so we took the boardwalk and headed in that direction. Even off-season Coney Island is a special sight. I like it the best without people, in the distance appearing as an apocalyptic wasteland.

natalie on the coney island boardwalk

By the time we reached Coney Island we were freezing. Natalie, anticipating a warm spring beach day, now used her beach towel as an extra layer for warmth. We made the requisite bathroom stop and headed along the shore back towards Brighton Beach. At least now the wind was behind us. We stopped for a moment to study the stiff foam left on the beach by the surf. I imagine it’s some kind of primordial soup — molecular bits of animal, fish, sea plants and human waste. It has the color of a sandy meringue. During my trips to Maine in the 1980s, I always called this foam “radioactive lobster residue,” probably having something to do with my frequent food comas caused by eating way too many fresh lobsters at one meal.

sea foam: radioactive lobster residue

We passed a young red-haired Hasidic man, alone, his payot blowing straight out behind him in the wind. It was a wonderful photo opportunity but I didn’t want to disturb his meditation. I didn’t pull the camera out from my backpack. I felt the need to remember this moment — a photograph lost. I quickly took a few pictures from a distance with my phone.

hasidic man

As we got back to Brighton Beach the clouds finally began to move in. It was now or never for our Intimate Portrait shoot. As I searched for the right spot on the beach Natalie seemed a little nervous about posing topless. At first I thought she was worried about the cold. I was surprised. The beach and boardwalk were almost deserted. She’d be laying in a shallow pit in the sand and I’d either be crouching above her or sitting on her lap. Someone would need an x-ray telescope to understand what we were doing. I told Natalie not to worry and began digging the pit to cradle her body.

natalie enjoying the ocean breeze

video: natalie enjoying the brighton beach breeze

Before we began, Natalie spent a few minutes enjoying the wind, dancing and moving in the breeze like only Natalie can. She crawled into our pit and I began shooting. It was brutal! Standing above her the wind gusts pushed me around making it difficult to hold the camera steady. I could hardly see with the wind and sand blowing in my eyes. What I went through was nothing compared to Natalie’s torture. The sand swept across the beach blowing on to her face and body as if she was the Sphinx during an Egyptian sandstorm. The sand was everywhere. Natalie could hardly keep her eyes open let alone focus on the camera. The camera captured streaks of sand flying across her face, looking much like raindrops during a shower — feeling more like micro-hail, stinging every inch of exposed skin.

intimate portrait of natalie on brighton beach

We forgot the cold. We were too occupied by the discomfort of the sand to think about anything else. It didn’t feel like an Intimate Portrait shoot with it’s feel of quiet meditation. This was a battle. It was Natalie and I against the elements. Somehow we kept shooting. I don’t know for how long. I don’t know how Natalie had the strength to pose. I finally sat on her lap. I couldn’t feel her body. My legs were too cold. Slowly I felt the warmth of her body, wondering if my camera’s auto-focus system was working properly — focusing on Natalie’s eyes. I still couldn’t see. Finally I had to end the shoot. I’m only willing to “torture” a model if I know the pictures will be great. This time I wasn’t sure.

sand on natalie's face: intimate portrait project. brighton beach

Our bodies, our bags, our food, my camera — everything was covered in sand. Thanks goodness I had packed a thermos of my famous green-mint-ginger tea. We needed it. I could tell Natalie was feeling better, no longer half-naked and once again wrapped in layers, her towel now an official poncho. We headed off the beach to Brighton Beach Avenue for grocery shopping. I knew a good place for coffee. Natalie needed it.

natalie at the fruit and veggie store

We stopped at my favorite fruit and vegetable store. This place has great produce at amazing prices. It’s where I buy my beets, cilantro, lettuce, and the fruit I use to make jam. Everything here is so fresh. Strawberries were one dollar a quart. I bought three to make jam.

The coffee definitely revived Natalie. I’ve never seen her that jumpy! We were about to head home on the subway but at the last moment decided we needed some more beach time. We headed back towards the boardwalk to finish off our leftover food — a second picnic.

picnic on the boardwalk

The wind wasn’t quite as strong but the air was colder now as the sun had moved behind the clouds. We sat on a bench with a nice view of the ocean and finished off our Russian salads and some delicious chicken and sausages. The food was crunchy with grains of sand. I saw Natalie and realized we looked like a pair of homeless people from the mid-70s. Her recently purchased California sunglasses only enhanced the look.

My pictures of Natalie sitting on that bench looked like she was sitting in dense fog. I realized the lens on my phone was covered with a thin layer of sea salt, collected during our walk along the surf. I hoped my portrait camera hadn’t suffered the same fate. It would ruin our pictures in the sand… the ones we just suffered for.

discarded cigarette on the boardwalk

I stopped to take pictures of a few cigarette butts near our bench. After all, that was my original plan before I invited Natalie on this adventure. It is the subject that ties this series of essays together.

later that night - the strawberries cooking for jam

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