In New York, we are a city of apostates. In New York nothing is sacred, nothing eternal. Defined by where you are, not who you are, the rest blurs. My photographs are the collision of the internal with the external, the private with the public, which produces the contradictions inherit in modern New York life.
These photographs are New York Street Photographs in the sense that the figure’s interior form (life) has merged with the external (street). The boundary between subject and background is blurred, the faces distorted or sometimes completely lost. While the subjects still retain some of their inherit qualities, their individual identities are lost. Gazes tethered to one another by an indirect gaze. The gaze smears. The long exposed street lights provide glowing strings, holding the rhythm of the city, yet devolving into discord and chaos.This unique capturing produces moments that render the internal struggle of man with his city in a visceral, almost primal way.
Many times those who suffer on the broken sidewalks are invisible. They are deaf and mute not just to passers-by, but to themselves. Their principles lost, their identities and truth in flux. The city has swallowed them whole and they have been digested, reduced to their most simple selves. These photographs seek to explore that struggle, to invert the individual — his desires, sorrows, and wants despite his herded appearance.
These figures that cluster underneath elevated trains at night, on street corners, in coffee shops, or black throngs leaking out of bars onto the sidewalk all tell a hidden soulful reality. Humans aching to connect, to tell their story of a lost truth.