An Indelible Season, 2020
An Indelible Season: NYC, 2020 is a photo essay commissioned by Image Journal, Issue no.106. The photo essay was published both physically and digitally to share my experience during the COVID-19 quarantine in NYC in the spring of 2020. As I could not access my studio in Manhattan for a few months, I shifted my focus to examine my beloved city “on pause” through photography.
Full essay is available online here.
Physical publication of Image Journal no. 106
Day 66: Lucky’s Famous, Hell’s Kitchen
Most restaurants remained closed, but a handful, like Lucky’s Famous Burgers, were open for socially distanced business. This waiter hesitated to pose for an essential worker portrait, but at the urging of two elderly women passing by, he agreed. According to a report by the Partnership for New York City, when the pandemic eventually subsides, roughly a third of the city’s small businesses may never reopen.
Most restaurants remained closed, but a handful, like Lucky’s Famous Burgers, were open for socially distanced business. This waiter hesitated to pose for an essential worker portrait, but at the urging of two elderly women passing by, he agreed. According to a report by the Partnership for New York City, when the pandemic eventually subsides, roughly a third of the city’s small businesses may never reopen.
Day 79: Tot Break Out, Pier I
Neighborly interaction took on new life under quarantine. I grew accustomed to seeing the same masked faces on my brief walks to the nearby Hudson River pier: the girl with the miniature poodle, always running ahead of her parents, flaunting her pastel fashions; my skateboarding English bulldog neighbor, who always draws a crowd.
Neighborly interaction took on new life under quarantine. I grew accustomed to seeing the same masked faces on my brief walks to the nearby Hudson River pier: the girl with the miniature poodle, always running ahead of her parents, flaunting her pastel fashions; my skateboarding English bulldog neighbor, who always draws a crowd.
Day 38: Brooklyn Crab, Red Hook
As the infection rate fell, I emerged from hiding and became a bike tourist in my own city. One day as I rode to Coney Island, a fellow cyclist caught a flat and asked for help. The pit stop triggered déjà vu: I eventually remembered seeing this kitschy crab shack on an episode of Modern Love.
As the infection rate fell, I emerged from hiding and became a bike tourist in my own city. One day as I rode to Coney Island, a fellow cyclist caught a flat and asked for help. The pit stop triggered déjà vu: I eventually remembered seeing this kitschy crab shack on an episode of Modern Love.
Physical publication of Image Journal no. 106
Day 83: Ghostbusters, Grand Central Station
On my return trip, a public sanitation crew performed a routine disinfection of the automated ticket kiosks in a nearly empty Grand Central Station. Their PPE and sanitation gear reminded me of the suits and traps of the original Ghostbusters, fighting their own invisible enemy.
On my return trip, a public sanitation crew performed a routine disinfection of the automated ticket kiosks in a nearly empty Grand Central Station. Their PPE and sanitation gear reminded me of the suits and traps of the original Ghostbusters, fighting their own invisible enemy.
Physical publication of Image Journal no. 106
Day 9: We Forgive You, NYC, The Standard Hotel
During a bike ride home one evening, I came across the empty Standard Hotel with its illuminated windows in the shape of a heart. In a love note spelled out in lights, hotel staff lament their absent guests. Roger Cohen left a similar love note in the Times: “I knew all along that your great secret was that an extreme degree of ambition coexists in your streets with the empathy every New Yorker feels for a fellow New Yorker…. We took you too much for granted. Yes, forgive us for not giving daily praise for the miracle of New York.”
During a bike ride home one evening, I came across the empty Standard Hotel with its illuminated windows in the shape of a heart. In a love note spelled out in lights, hotel staff lament their absent guests. Roger Cohen left a similar love note in the Times: “I knew all along that your great secret was that an extreme degree of ambition coexists in your streets with the empathy every New Yorker feels for a fellow New Yorker…. We took you too much for granted. Yes, forgive us for not giving daily praise for the miracle of New York.”
Day 84: Black Voice, Port Authority
On Monday, June 1, I stepped outside to find myself surrounded by bike cops preparing for protests in response to the killing of George Floyd. I watched a lone protester push her walker down the bike lane toward armed NYPD, shouting that Black lives matter.
On Monday, June 1, I stepped outside to find myself surrounded by bike cops preparing for protests in response to the killing of George Floyd. I watched a lone protester push her walker down the bike lane toward armed NYPD, shouting that Black lives matter.
Day 97: Black Lives Matter Rally, Greenpoint, Brooklyn
Protestors marched peacefully on Driggs Avenue in June. That month, citizens of Hong Kong held the only mass memorial of the Tiananmen Square Massacre on Chinese soil—possibly for the last time. In a shocking parallel, news reports flood screens in both western and eastern homes with images of police violence against protestors.
Protestors marched peacefully on Driggs Avenue in June. That month, citizens of Hong Kong held the only mass memorial of the Tiananmen Square Massacre on Chinese soil—possibly for the last time. In a shocking parallel, news reports flood screens in both western and eastern homes with images of police violence against protestors.
Physical publication of Image Journal no. 106
Day 91: Take-Out, Central Park South
A woman with matted hair cascading to her waist eats from a take-out box at the Merchants’ Gate to Central Park. The setting sun casts a warm glow on her. Behind her are sculptures depicting the allegorical figures of Courage, Fortitude, Justice, and Peace—the values sometimes held dear by New York City. This beautiful dystopic image encapsulates both my admiration and heartbreak for my home. There is so much wrong in the world right now. There is so much work to be done. As an artist, my response is to pay attention—through observation, documentation and art making. As Simone Weil wrote, “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love. Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.”
A woman with matted hair cascading to her waist eats from a take-out box at the Merchants’ Gate to Central Park. The setting sun casts a warm glow on her. Behind her are sculptures depicting the allegorical figures of Courage, Fortitude, Justice, and Peace—the values sometimes held dear by New York City. This beautiful dystopic image encapsulates both my admiration and heartbreak for my home. There is so much wrong in the world right now. There is so much work to be done. As an artist, my response is to pay attention—through observation, documentation and art making. As Simone Weil wrote, “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love. Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.”