Composition 20- Naama Tsabar

Photo: © S. Banos

I was in Manhattan's former Meat Packing District (one of the most gentrified areas imaginable) during the magic hour one late Spring day, when I heard this loud "ambient" music coming from... seemingly everywhere. It was "atmospheric" yet edgy, and I was immediately drawn to it (unlike so much of music today)- so I set about trying to discover its source. Eventually, I realized it had to be originating at The Highline, and so it was. With Composition 20, what one eventually realized was that Naama Tsabar had devised an open environment in which one could travel directly within an ever changing musical landscape, as opposed to a single wall of sound aimed directly at you. 

The tiny snippet below of the entire 3 hr experience is more "traditionally" melodic than the portion I stumbled upon. But it was quite the experience walking in between the musicians, walking in between the music, as it incrementally changed from corner to corner, side to side, musician to musician, as one traversed the entirety of the area- the "back" side playing a considerably different tune from the "front," while the more harmonizing midground somehow balancing both. One of the more memorable, interactive and public musical/art experiences I'll remember in my hometown...

PS- Hopefully, there will be a high quality recording of the event available in the near future... but it just occurred to me- how would it be mixed? Since several melodies were being played concurrently, which one anyone heard at any one time depended on where they were situated...

What Manner Of Shooter R U?

Intense?   Photo: © S. Banos

Laid back?    Photo: © S. Banos

No prisoners?    Photo: © S. Banos

The Greatest Photo Book Of All Time

Yeah, I know- an utterly ridiculous statement. So why not just take it as fact and be done with it? I can't prove it, you can't disprove it. Satisfied? Doesn't matter- I'm going with it...

First off, you must simply dispense your personal beliefs and preferences and accept the fact that photography reached it's intellectual and artistic zenith with B&W in the early/mid seventies, and went completely downhill after that color revolution thing of the same decade. With me so far? OK, so I lost maybe... 97.5% of the entire photo audience. Again, doesn't matter.

The book itself is relatively thin, but on the large side- I could tell it wasn't gonna be cheap, and when I opened it and saw the reproductions, I immediately thought three figures. And when I saw the box that held it... Uh-oh. Yeah, it costs $250.

Photo: John Divola

But it's a goddamn gorgeous $250! The lusciously reproduced B&W photos contained in John Divola's San Fernando Valley are deceptively quiet, contemplative- the subtle quirks and nuanced details all hint at the resident's inner lives (when they're not openly broadcasting them with direct views into the camera's lens). The newly settled residents of Bill Owens' Suburbia were gradually affixing themselves into their emerging community; these guys are already settled, they're comfortable in their own skin. After introducing its residents, Mr. Divola's photos then go on to further explore the neighborhood's flora and architecture; and it's all good- exactly what you'd expect from the world's greatest photo book (of all time).

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PS-  Did I get it? Sadly, no. A little too rich for this boy's blood, but I did not return completely empty handed- I was quite happy to get Robert Voit's amazingly beautiful New Trees- a more than worthy typology of uniquely disguised cell phone towers. Ya see, this was supposed to be my now annual report from NYC, but having to address the growing needs of elderly parents, there was not much time to view (or attempt the making of) much photography while there. New York goes on as always, the poor struggle to house and feed themselves, while the rich revel in their own.

Manhattan

An Algonquin word for "isolated thing in the water."

(via Short Nights of the Shadowcatcher)

And speaking of NYC...

Back In The Day...

A Boy and His Dog  (aka- Stan & Bob);  Photo: © S. Banos

One often looks back on one's youth through a nostalgic haze that conveniently filters out the negative- until you cut through the haze and start remembering in earnest. Moving into NYC (even from its outer boroughs) would mark a definitive milestone in anyone's life, it most definitely did in mine. It was 1980, the height of the Punk/New Wave scene, and New York still had a coupla remaining years before being meteorically launched into warp speed gentrification. 

The New Year's Eve photo that will never be surpassed, Studio 54- Photo: © Tod Papageorge

Thirteen in '69, I desperately craved to participate in my own version of The Sixties (which really started in '63 and ended in '72), but had well given up as the mid seventies devolved into a "modern" version of the '50s- the advent of disco pretty much signalling the final death knell. And then, a funny thing happened at the end of the decade, this thing called... Punk. And all of a sudden there was this crazy energy out on the streets again. No, it wasn't the unavoidable, universal sea change of the sixties; it was on a much smaller scale, but there nonetheless, if you chose to acknowledge it- in all its pre-digital, unconnected wonder!

New York was still in its post Gerald Ford, Drop Dead doldrums- ads in the Village Voice still advertised 3rm apts in Alphabet City/Loisaida renting for $650 (with the understood agreement that anything you were foolish enough to move in would be automatically removed free of charge), a heroin renaissance was still to occur, and crack had yet to be invented. Williamsburg was still Hasidic and/or Puerto Rican and nowhere near hipsterdom- in fact, anyone from the outlying boroughs was condescendingly referred to as "Bridge and Tunnel." This was also the time when you could walk out unto any East Village street on any given day and see the likes of Quentin Crisp, Afrika Bambaataa, The Beastie Boys or any of thousands of indie rock celebrities and wannabes. Robert Frank drunkenly burned original prints from The Americans in his loft on the Bowery, Alex Harsley held shop at The 4th St. Photo Gallery, and Hip Hop was about to spill from the Bronx and invade the the rest of NYC, the nation and the world.

Photo: © Ken Schles- who & where to go for more of a sense of the period...

Of course, this last ditch reverberation of The Sixties could not possibly endure unabated; it too would implode, and  by 1985- the tsunami called gentrification, fueled by unbridled greed, crack and mass Madonna commercialization inevitably dawned and triumphed. And just as jellyfish are now consuming the earth's vast oceans filling the void once occupied by fish- bodegas and local, centuries old Lower East Side storefronts were replaced, seemingly overnight, by a plague like torrent of small art galleries whose owners saw and promoted not art, but their own dreams of $$$ and art world stardom. Within a year, most would not even linger long enough to become memories, replaced by... upscale boutiques- it would never be quite like Paris.

The look Madonna popularized the world over... several years before she appropriated it; London,  Photo: © S. Banos

Youth would expend its final, semi-glorious gasp, my dog would soon depart- and New York, of course, has always had a way of cashing in on one's dreams, sweat and determination... and crushing them all the same. The photo biz (like everything else both seen and/or imagined in this town) was incredibly cut throat and competitive even then, I wanted no part of that hustle and would soon embark on a Special Ed career that would well occupy my time for years to come in Harlem and Oakland, CA when I made the move to the Left Coast. Marriage, a blog, pet cemeteries and the dawdling years of middle age awaited...

Robert Kalman- Portraits Of NYC

Recently, readers at TOP were treated to the work of Robert Kalman; and it's always one of the greatest kicks imaginable to come upon a relative unknown with a body of work that makes one actually stop and look- instead of just scan forever forward as we've become so accustomed in our current digital mindlessness.

Portraiture has always been one of the most difficult of photographic genres, perhaps because it is, in fact, such a collaborative effort. It's significantly easier to go out and make an anonymous landscape or street shot than it is to work together with subject at hand and have two divergent personalities combine to create a "work of art." And popular myths aside, while photographic portraits certainly can't reveal anyone's "soul," they can most definitely lie, deceive and manipulate every bit as much as any photographer or subject- whether intentionally or not; but I digress.

What good portraiture can deliver however, are striking images of individuals that capture our imagination and hold our attention, so much so, that we continue to wonder about the subjects long after we've stopped looking. Kalman's portraits in all their quality (and quantity) do just that, and unlike Avedon, he didn't have to go scouring about In The American West with a van load of assistants to find proper subjects. He does it without an entourage (other than his wife), in his own hometown.

What's that? You don't live in New York? Neither did Peter Feldstein- didn't stop him from shooting The Oxford Project. I make mention of the above, since so many photographers are not exactly privy to exotic locales, and must also work within the confines of (their own) very limited budgets. When all is said and done, it's the resulting images that matter, and fortunately, when it comes to portraiture- interesting subject matter can be had wherever humans can be found.

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Unlike back in the day, I no longer need to know every detail of how and why someone shoots the things they do, now I mostly just... look at the work- it's the work that speaks and delivers. Every once in a great while however, I'm still captivated as to why and how someone operates- their motivations, philosophies, strategies, etc; whether it's how someone goes about attempting to photograph history, or how a young photographer goes about making an old tradition current and vital.

 

Intrigued by the hybrid approach and execution of Mr. Kalman's NYC street portraiture, I asked if he would agree to a brief interview, and he was kind enough to consent:

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: I suspect you're a native New Yorker. I'm always curious as to how natives perceive their fellow New Yorkers, how "immigrants" come to view their adopted hometown, and how it all relates to how one approaches and interacts with the denizens of Metropolis.

RK: You're correct; I'm a New Yorker. I was born in Manhattan and grew up in Queens (although most Manhattanites don't consider the outer boroughs as part of "The City").  I don't interact with the "denizens of Metropolis" any differently than people anywhere else in the world. I'm simply always on the look out for faces that move me; faces that have a certain quality of presence. I know that New Yorkers have a collective reputation for being cold, abrupt, wary and in a hurry, but my experience of the New York cultural identity has very little of that. Actually, when we stop a person in the street and ask if we can make their picture with a large format camera, rarely are we turned down. We show the person samples of our work, explain that it is an extended project and that we will send them a print. All that makes it a bit easier for them to agree. I find most people are flattered to be asked, and curious about the process. After all, there might be dozens of people passing by, and I've singled you out. (When I refer to "we" as in "we stop people," and "our" work, my wife, Linda, is my assistant. While I'm the one who selects the people I want to photograph, it's Linda who makes the initial approach. That's because it is much less threatening to have a woman do the asking. Plus, since she's from Kansas, she has this gentle mid-western demeanor that people find disarming.) What we've learned from making hundreds and hundreds of portraits in many different countries is that people everywhere are quite willing to share themselves with us and with the camera, as long as we are respectful and genuinely interested in them.

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: I noticed (thankfully) that there aren't a lot of overtly smiling faces in most of your portraits- is that a conscious decision?

RK: When you wake up in the morning and look at your face in the mirror, that is your authentic face. People tend to adopt a cheesy mask in front of the camera. When I make a portrait, what I'm after is the face that you typically present to the world, the face that initially drew me to you. So, yes, it's a conscious decision. What I'm after is an experience, for both the sitter and for myself. I want us to publicly connect for the brief, intimate moment we're drawn together. When I'm working with the person in front of the view camera I usually say to them, "Just look at me." Smiling simply isn't a desired or necessary part of the experience.

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: What makes you choose the people you do? Is there a certain look you're after with each individual, or are you cool with whatever they choose to present you? How many sheets do you average per individual; do you pretty much know when you've nailed it?

RK: As I said, I'm searching for presence. And the way I know that it's there is through a visceral response; words aren't sufficient to describe the feeling. I just know it. When I make portraits in the street, as a general rule, I only expose two sheets of film. This is something I learned from studying the portrait work of Joel Meyerowitz, who once wrote, "I need only one or two sheets of film and the patience to see it through." This usually works for me; I'm usually pleased with the results. 

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: I'm a big fan of including original text from subjects, it can lend so many additional layers of depth and meaning- one needs not look further than Jim Goldberg's landmark Rich And Poor, or Jeffrey Wolin's Written In Memory/Portraits Of The Holocaust. When did you decide to include the written component, and how do you think it adds to the overall strength of the portraits and presentation?

RK: In December 2010 I returned to a village in Nicaragua to do a series of portraits of people I had photographed twenty years before. In addition to making their photographs, I asked them to write about how their lives had changed or remained the same. Eventually, I incorporated their writing alongside their two portraits in a self-published book. I thought the writing created a poignancy and a deeper dimension to the work. Sometime in 2012 I started shooting 8x10 portraits in the street using white seamless as a background rather than my usual practice of incorporating the environment as part of the image. Although I liked the look of a neutral background, it seemed derivative; too much like Richard Avedon's pictures shot in the West in the 1980's. So I decided to move beyond the Avedon look by having the person write a brief autobiographical statement and then fashioning the words and picture into a diptych. At this point the portraits have evolved back to using the environment as background, but I've retained the practice of having the person write something.

For me, the writing alongside the portrait works on a number of levels. Just as the portrait reveals something unique about the person, so does what they choose to reveal about themselves. Lately, the writing prompt is, "So, what's life like for you right now?" It elicits all sorts of deep and intimate responses. Moreover, each person uses the spatial constraint of the single sheet of paper in an idiosyncratic way; the size of their handwriting on the page reveals something about them, as well. When the writing is juxtaposed next to the image, I think it gives the viewer a greater opportunity to build meaning and inference about the person they're looking at.

Because I work with film, and I have to wait to see the result, I make it a practice to wait to read what the person writes until it's time to scan the writing into the computer. This allows me to be open to feelings of delight, surprise or disappointment when I finally read the subject's work. This is similar to what I may feel when I develop the film and view my own work: astonishment, pleasure or distress. Using their words with the portrait essentially makes us collaborators. And I find this extremely energizing.

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: What have you learned since you started this particular series, about: life, people, photography (especially in relation to the strengths and limitations of the medium)?

RK: I've learned that people from very different cultures can behave in very similar ways when standing for a portrait. The large format camera is almost like a third person,and its presence makes the experience for the sitter somewhat of an event. Consider for a moment how many photographs of you have been made in your lifetime. How many photographs of yourself can you look at and also recall the experience with the photographer? It’s my hope that years from now, when a person looks at the photo we made together, they'll remember that experience. I think the view camera helps make that happen. There is a physical limitation in  using the big equipment, however. While I can walk about with a 4x5 on a tripod perched off my shoulder and find subjects as we walk along, I have to plant the 8x10 in one spot and wait for people to come to me. Right now, I'm partial to the 8x10 so I'm living with that limit.

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: Finally, and forgive me, but I think it a fair question if only because of the current phenomena and the similarity, if only on the most superficial of levels- that is, how would you differentiate your work from say... something called- HONY? I find them one broad universe apart, but would be interested in how you would interpret and analyze the two. I've tried to be fair and not quite so critical, but Stanton's purely feel good, snapshot imagery often seems to undermine and devalue the very strength of the narrative that he is supposedly trying to emphasize. Or perhaps, that is, in fact, the strategy all along- bite sized pieces of occasionally somber narrative balanced by the accompanying happy shots, so that no one walks away thinking too much or feeling too down.

RK: Someone that I photographed recently posted this comment on her Facebook page: “Before there was Humans of New York, there was Robert Kalman, who saw us walking down 6th Ave in the W. Village back in 2009 when I was pregnant with Mariel. He was doing a photo book of interracial couples- would we pose for him?”

Every so often while we're photographing in the street, people ask if we are "Humans of NY." I find this mildly amusing since what Brandon Stanton is trying to accomplish is very different from my outcome. Clearly Stanton has very successfully tapped into an emotional link for people who want to "humanize" New Yorkers. People who appreciate Stanton's work appear willing to set aside their notion of the New York stereotype and make an empathic connection. I think his work is more about  the person's story than their picture. I've seen You Tube clips of Brandon talking about his work and he acknowledges that he's only been shooting portraits for a few years. What seems to drive him is his passion to meet strangers, get at their story and make that story accessible through the Internet. Shooting the portrait seems merely how he breaks the ice so that he can conduct an interview. It's clearly worked out for him; his pictures and stories have great popular appeal.

For me, however, it's the image of a compelling face that matters most, followed by the relationship and experience I have with the sitter. The words that my subjects offer are confined to a limited space and are presented side by side as a diptych with their image. I think having the words displayed in the person's own handwriting creates a gestalt that is more intimate and unique than the HONY design concept. I guess I just have to wait to have the public figure that out so that I can have my work become as widely shown as Mr. Stanton's.

Photo: © Robert Kalman

SB: Has there been any interest from any institutions on the publication or exhibition of your work; a possible Kickstarter drive or the like?

RK: Some of my work has lately come to the attention of a few galleries through contests that I’ve entered, but I'm possibly the oldest emerging photographer on the planet. One of these days someone will be pleased to discover my work and represent me. Until that happens, I just hope people buy my art before I'm dead.

SB: Robert, thank you for the effort involved in creating this window of insight into what is always the work in progress we call "New York City." And I sincerely hope that discerning eyes considerably higher up the food chain will soon recognize and acknowledge your work for its sheer visual merit, and the diverse cultural and historical relevance it so effectively documents and celebrates.

Man On Blanket With Dog

(told ya)   Photo: © S. Banos
 

Times Square- Past & Present

9/21/14 NYC- Photo: © S. Banos

Times Square is no longer the seedy, sometimes dangerous place I once knew. Like the Berlin Wall, it was something I never questioned was destined to remain forever so. Most would probably find it odd that I'd prefer what it once was to the safe, people friendly environment it is now. I'd probably feel differently, if only it wasn't so Disneyfied- literally.

There is this one tiniest of patches however that retains a shadow of that gloomy, nostalgic past; ironically, it's right behind the small NYPD building right in its very midst. NYC, past and present, @ 1/30 & 2.8.

Lists, Conspiracies, and Point of Origin



9/23/14 NYC- Photo: © S. Banos

Although there is no doubt whatsoever that Washington is awash in AIPAC $$$ (thus thoroughly compromising our Middle East foreign policy), "rest" assured that the remainder of America, and the world (from ruling WASP elites to average working stiffs of every color and denomination), is still thoroughly entrenched knee deep in anti-Semitism. The above is one conspiracy theory that has been around for centuries- and one that should have been put to rest just as long ago...

Reciprocity Failure: San Francisco Peaceniks, conspiracy theorists, and the marginalized silent majority   -via B

I knew it would happen one day- if I was knowledgeable enough, dedicated enough, sincere enough.  Reciprocity Failure would finally (FINALLY!) make it onto a "best of" list! Well, kinda, sorta... not really. But it was... a list!!! Strangest part was being associated with- San Francisco.*

Anyway, the positive side to all this (yes, there actually is one) is that there were some really good sites mentioned on said list that I've just either never got around to including, or just plain didn't know about- which you can now find (due right), thanks to Blake!

*So why exactly did I move to San Francisco? After all, it's been well over a decade now and I've yet to mutter dude or Awesome, that would just be hella gnarly. Well, there were three possible options in NYC: A) Start a family, like most folks, B) Make it big in whatever area of your choosing, C) Turn into a dithering old man muttering nonsensically on a street corner. I chose not to do A;  B kinda just didn't happen- trust me, there are plans in place right now (won't get into details) to deal with those who prevented that from happening; and  C... I just really wanted to avoid.

Bloggity Blog Blogger...

UPDATE: OK, OK- I have no idea what the hell happened yesterday morning, but when I clicked to embiggen my photos on Blogger, not only was there the apparent lack of contrast (which has been manifesting of late), but the resolution and overall sharpness were shot to absolute shit. It was scary- so I took them down, and out of their misery. Tonight, I reposted one of same said photos for the hell of it, and although the lack of contrast was still apparent, the resolution had indeed... returned! So, I guess I'm more or less back in the game, more or less...

 

9/21/14 NYC- Photo: © S. Banos

 

The NY Report...

Well, the Climate March in NYC on 9/21 got 350,000+ people, considerably more than expected (approx 100,000). And what was especially good to see was that it wasn't just the usual gang of aging White hippies out there- it was multi-generational, multi-ethnic and multi-racial. And it's a damn good thing we protested on the streets of midtown (not to mention the sit down event the following day near Wall St.), because they weren't letting anyone anywhere near the UN building on the the day of the actual conference on the 23rd. One of the coolest things of the whole event was when the march stopped dead at 42 St. between Broadway and Seventh and had a moment of silence for Mother Earth- never did hear Times Square quite so eerily silent in all my years...

Sadly, the protest is merely an exclamation point, one desperate all out plea for a reality check that will not arrive anytime soon; the real progress occurs behind the scenes, and suffice to say, I really don't think any real action(s) of consequence will occur until the tsunamis are licking at the doors of those in power in real time. Of course, by then, it will already have been far too late...

The Daily Show
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Meanwhile, NYC has managed to cram yet another several million people unto its streets since I visited last year, and it was while I was promenading through Bryant Park that I spotted the oddest looking tour bus ever, in which people are seated in rows, theater style, all facing one side of the sidewalk, with pedestrians literally on stage and on display- a much more unsettling experience than even the bizarre scenario below alludes to, I assure you!

Photo: Marc Bryan-Brown

Also couldn't help but notice that there were considerably more photographers of color out taking fashion and wedding photos (a good thing), more people of color in the NYPD (good if their diversity impacts the police force- and not vice versa, as is usually the case), and MOST surprisingly of all... more people of color in the dancing, chanting Hare Krishnas- talk about... unsettling!

Naturally, I went to play with all the new cameras at B&H, and I'm happy to report that there wasn't one I was truly excited about save for the Fujifilm XT-1; happy because there's no way I can afford one of those along with a couple of lenses, happy because I'll no longer be tempted by anything else, happy to remain happy with what I got.... And I'm also bizarrely happy, confused and perplexed to report that I didn't see one single book at Dashwood, MOMA or Strands that I absolutely, positively had to have- not a one. And lord knows I have enough relatively recent acquisitions that I have yet to pay adequate homage and attention to.

Couldn't get to a lotta shows since I had familial obligations to attend to (my 91 year old father was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer's), but did see Matt Black at Anastasia Gallery, and did manage to make it to Photoville on its last day. The latter was a bit overwhelming to do in just one day, even without attending any workshops/conferences; there was just so much there in all those assorted shipping containers- good, bad and indifferent, that in the end made for quite an impressive showing nonetheless. One was dedicated solely to James Nachtwey's work- always fascinating to see how he remains just one notch above everyone else's work in that particular "genre."

Gorged myself on Two Boots Pizza and donuts at the appropriately named Donut Pub on W14 St, but was disheartened to find that St. Mark's Books is no longer with us- that particular book store was to The East Village what CBGB's was to its music scene- RIP.

Meanwhile, Governor Cuomo of NY created a commission to examine corruption- only to disband it when it began to examine the festerings in his own backyard. And speaking of cover ups.... new mayor of NYC Bill de Blasio dropped the groundhog presented to him on Groundhog Day, which later died of internal injuries. The zoo however reports that the precipitous fall from the good mayor's arms had nothing to do with its demise. Why this came out in September, when it occurred in February...

Favorite T-shirt (particularly in these times when people my age are contemplating their own mortality while dealing with that of their elders): Too Old To Die Young (almost as good as the one I saw earlier this year- Don't Bro Me If Ya Don't Know Me).

Got four rolls to process and edit (a helluva lot for me), hopefully something to show for in the upcoming weeks, and will also be posting on my favorite new photographer spotted at Photoville. Oh, and one last thing- put my Tri-X naked into a clear baggie, asked for hand inspection, and request granted no ifs, ands, or buts... least at SFO and JFK!

The Thomas Roma Affair

Interesting post on PetaPixel regarding the photographer of one of my all time favorite photography books (Found In Brooklyn) and his particular brand of teaching, which I was not particularly aware of (until now). It's gotten quite a rise, and bent more than a few outta shape on that site. Seems that Thomas Roma is pretty much your quintessential New Yorker, and then some... 

He is what I consider the truly evolved New Yorker- brash, assertive, argumentative, opinionated- without being: prejudiced, hateful and shortsighted. He can empathize with and relate to the entire spectrum of shades and social strata to be found within that universal megalopolis- and still call out a dick head when he sees one. 

While many of the selected excerpts on the blog in question are pure gold, some can make Mr. Roma come off a bit cartoonish, I'm betting this is but one aspect of his teaching style, an appeal to wake his minions from the deception and repetition that surround us all. And then, of course, there is his work- and there is nothing cartoonish to be found there...

Meatpacking District 1985-2013

Once again, Mr. Rose has salvaged yet another part of the great city that was...

Been reminiscing about ye olde NY, my old NY* here lately, which put me to mind of Metamorphosis- Meatpacking District 1985-2013 by Brian Rose. This once dubious section of NYC was at various odd hours of day turned to night bustling with meat products and sex workers- the isolated afternoon hours spent idling in the odor of carcasses since quartered, packed and delivered.

Of course, you're more likely to smell the various aromas of pricey, pungent perfumes these days in what has become a fashion mecca within the fashion mecca. Another unique section of NY forever lost to time, gentrified to near ossification.

*Watch it and weep...

New York City (aka- Home)

I'm an expat New Yorker currently residing in San Francisco; it's an uneasy coexistence. I'd like to think our parting was mutual, but I could gauge her patience was done with me- and too often had I seen how she'd lash out when ignored.

My NYC is one rooted in time; it no longer exists. My NY was dirtier, scarier, poorer and yet, somehow more humane. That doesn't particularly make sense, but then neither does wholesale gentrification (also occurring right here, right now in SF- more on that soon). My NY remains within, a part of who I am, and what I will always be.

NY, of course, could not care less of me, or any of its own. It is a solitary, monolithic creature devoid of sentiment, nostalgia or human kindness. Greater than its parts, it simply carries on, however wounded or emboldened. It woos, uses, discards- no exceptions. Be thankful for the ride, however long or short the day or night.

New York City, you're a woman.
Cold hearted bitch, oughta be you're name.
Oh, you ain't never loved nobody,
Yet I'm drawn to you, like a moth to flame...
-Al Kooper

Yeah, this is the real NYC anthem, perhaps a mythic or no longer existent NY, but one thing's for sure- you can dump that overstuffed, overblown Frank Sinatra bombast of a homage deep down in the Hudson where it belongs; all due respect Frankie Boy!

PS- To those offended by the female metaphor, my apologies- it's an old fave... but no excuse. Some day a woman will compose a fitting counterpart. And old goats like me will soon depart...

NYC '77

It leaves out a helluva lot (like perpetually stalled rush hour trains stuck between stations w/o air conditioning in 100+ degree heat), but it does get the gist; the NYC I remember- in all its nostalgic (7 part) glamour and gloom...
(and FUCK Koch and Geraldo)

Pick Your Poison- Gilden vs. Stanton

Photo: Bruce Gilden

Bruce Gilden is one of my 'guilty' pleasures- everyone deserves a few. Devoid of any ethics (he'll be the first to tell ya), he has no qualms depicting his fellow human beings as something approximating the humanoids of the classic Twilight Zone episode where grotesqueness was the norm, and conventional human beauty, abhorrent. Sometimes I wonder if he'd have photographed his own mother like that, or perhaps the question should be- would mom let him near her with a camera?

And in the corner directly opposite, we have the likes of Brandon Stanton of HONY fame and fortune. He takes very complimentary portraits, photos that his subjects would be proud and happy to show anyone- including their mothers.

Two very different approaches, two widely disparate aesthetics; one has a small, almost cult like following, the other, a practically unprecedented, massive, worldwide appeal. I've been a long time Gilden fan since I first remember him honing his craft on 5th Ave.in the early Eighties. So how would I justify his New York cast of characters, or perhaps more appropriately, caricaturizations- not to mention his abrupt, no apology, in your face brand of hit and run photography?

Photo: Brandon Stanton

I can't. All I do know is that I love his work- on a gut level, aesthetic level, hell- just about any damn level you can throw my way. As a New Yorker whose walked those very streets, it may be surprising to hear that it is not as easy as one may think to effectively portray in a simple photograph every which way those streets can wear you down, tear you down, each and every day, one little piece atta time until, until... you end up looking like something in a Gilden portrait. And even if ya don't, ya damn well feel it! That is, in fact, how Gilden succeeds- using his photography on a descriptive literary level, every bit as any novelist would in depicting the angst and depersonalization so prevalent in New York, or any large metropolitan area. 

Unlike a novelist, however, Gilden uses real, identifiable people in the portrayal of his often zombie like vision of urban dread. Does the end justify the means? I'm not a big fan of that credo, particularly since it is often the excuse that leads to even more egregious debacles. And so I call on my major trump card, the infamous, no holds barred and don't ask me to explain any further (because I damn well can't) Every Dog Has Its Day card. And in Gilden's case (like so many others too numerous to mention)- the end does justify the means. His New York is the New York I so often felt coursing through my veins as I walked those very streets- and my hat off to him for capturing it in such a remarkably mesmerizing way, for art and posterity. As Gilden most accurately points out, traditional New York archetypes are fast disappearing- everyone everywhere is starting to look more and more the same.

Brandon Stanton lives in a different reality, and a different New York. Perhaps because he's not a native, perhaps because he's an optimist- I don't know. His legions of fans state that the stories that he elicits from his subjects are the real strength of his work.* In all fairness, they are- I just don't have the stomach to get past his feel good portraits. PS- How can you tell the really weird people in New York? Easy- they walk around... smiling.

Perhaps one day Mr. Stanton will compile his individual stories into a compelling film documentary where we get to know a few of his subjects on a personal level beyond mere anecdotes, perhaps that is, in fact, where his work is eventually leading him. I would be interested in seeing that. Right now, there is nothing in his photography (at least) that I find visually compelling- as opposed to the plethora of stories my imagination immediately conjures upon viewing a single Gilden image.

Bruce Gilden's latest tightly cropped portraits are devoid of any background relevant to subject or locale. Are they exploitative? Don't know how you could claim otherwise. What's the ethical justification for their raison d'être? Hell, I'm still gobsmacked just looking at 'em...

* I've said this before, one of the best photo exhibits I've ever seen was a series of small, nondescript B&W snapshots of 'Bowery bums' (taken in the '70s). Beside each portrait, typed on standard 3X5 index cards was the story of how each individual ended up there- Truly Powerful Stuff...

The Short, And Not So Simple...

Nope, ain't feeling guilty on this one. Not having it. Not one bit. At all... (some free floating anxiety, maybe).  Photo: S. Banos

I debated taking this photo, I debated posting it even more. Humorous? Mean spirited? Both???

I think one could make equally valid arguments for all the above. One of the things that Right Wingers repeatedly fail to comprehend is that one can understand something without condoning it. Their somewhat limited mindsets seem to short circuit at the consideration that comprehension does not automatically signal approval, that everything is not so clearly black and white in this often grey and murky world. I think that condition can also manifest (in admittedly fewer circumstances) with those on the Left, when you're perceived a traitor to the cause if you do not blindly buy into the whole 'manifesto.'

Obviously, one cannot paint the homeless into one homogeneous group. You have: abused women and runaway minors, the mentally ill, addicts, former military suffering from PTSD, your basic 'ne'er do wells' or criminal element-  not to mention ex cons effectively banned from most employment opportunities by the very history they're desperately trying to escape. And then there are those that hit much closer to home- the ever increasing number of unfortunates who have simply hit hard times and find themselves unemployed, underemployed, friendless and on the streets. And statistics prove that more and more of the latter now include formerly middle class suburban women, children, and adults of both sexes over 50.

Those on the Right tend to see them in one lump sum ("they're homeless because they want to be")- just like gays make a "conscious decision" to become gay, and schizophrenics supposedly choose to become mentally incompetent. 

I certainly don't know what the story is behind the person pictured above. Perhaps he's tried to get a job and change his situation for several years now, without luck or hope, and has now simply given up. Or perhaps he's simply a 'bum' or druggie thoroughly resigned to a life of hustling and playing the streets. I-Don't-Know. 

What I do know is that he does have a certain sense of humor, casually turning the whole discussion on homelessness on its royal side with his flippant in your face sign. And that life, cruel and sometimes funny mother that it can be, turned the joke back on him soon as he let his guard down. A reverse whammy that can't be ignored, and that he (at least in this case) very much set himself up for. 

Personally, I don't see a very optimistic future, then again, there's no way I could go on without some small sense of hope- sustained by the ability to suffer criticism and retain a sense of humor (particularly when at one's own expense)... it's the one thing the 1% can't do.

PS- I guess what I've been actually trying to say all along is- I see a lotta me in that guy. And perhaps, a little of us all...

"The Future Of Street Photography?"

I don't particularly get a rise outta raggin' on people- unless of course, they are truly, unquestionably evil. Otherwise, if ya have nothing good to say... Anyway, with all the attention (and money) that Brandon Stanton and his HONY project have accumulated, I hardly think my humble observations will incur any negative repercussions on his fame and fortune.

I’m like... happy for the guy, and I really wish him well. He's living the dream and he seems like a genuinely OK guy- more than OK! But I honestly just can’t get all that excited about... his work. It just strikes me as bland, commercial pap, which is in no small way why it is so readily accepted and celebrated. And I’ve seen too many photographers with way more unique and creative styles and visions that don’t get anywhere near this attention.

Yeah, I know- that’s life. And there's no accounting for taste. Like I said, I really wish him well. Very positive stuff (truly), and Lord knows we do need more of that. Having a photographer that makes people feel good on the street can't be all bad- and could be exactly what's needed in these security first, privacy challenged times we're living!

But, “The Future Of Street Photography?” I sure hope not… Hey, he's still young. Maybe, just maybe, at some point he'll start putting together something that goes beyond happy shots, beyond a mere Facebook celebration...

Two For The Road...

Champagne 

As recently alluded to, I spent a happy portion of my brief time in NY this June in the small patch of real estate directly under the Manhattan Bridge in... The Brooklyn Bridge Park. And amid all the almosts, there were two that managed to shine their way home...

Manhattan Bridge   Photos: S. Banos

NYC R&R

Photo: S. Banos

Forget the ever ubiquitous steel and concrete canyons so clearly visible here, I'm surprised the whole of Manhattan doesn't sink simply from the weight of the people that manage to cram onto the island each and every day. What is increasingly unique is what you see here- crowd free streets with room to stretch out and breathe, that ever so rare commodity that ends soon as they reach... the corner.