NY - Photos

The never ending man-made skyline, thousands of buildings, signifying millions of lives.

Long streets that disappear to a point in perspective, passing through diverse neighbourhoods, both rich and poor.

Energy that seems to come from beneath your feet, like the smoke from the manholes, creating a charged atmosphere on every street corner.

People moving in every direction below buildings from the movies.

This city is a monument to America, to capitalism and the American dream. A physical realisation of the ideas of a young country in the process of designing its own history and mythology.

Why do people come to New York? Is it to be part of something bigger than themselves? Is it to become famous or to have the chance to become a big player in this massive city? There is the chance to make it to the top or go crazy trying. This city is clearly more important than any individual in it. The draw or appeal is to be a part of the buzz of this colossal place. It feels like the hub of the Western world and may very well be just that.

As far as the eye can see are structures, harking back to the photos of the high-rise construction workers balanced on beams above the city, eating their lunch. How many lives of men have gone into building this place? The skyline goes on into the distance in almost every way you look, emphasising the almost impossible feat.

There are massive gaps between the rich and poor but this seems to be an accepted part of life here and part of what makes America what it is. The chances and the opportunities are presented to be there for anyone to grasp. It asks everyone, 'Do you want to make it big?' and gives enough chance that many take the gamble. The poor never want to complain about this situation because they believe they can become a one of the rich and reap the rewards.

Walking the streets is energising. They go on forever in their grid structure but gradually, imperceptibly change and shift to take the form of new places. Diversity, a rich patchwork of cultures merged into one.

The surprises keep you moving in, forcing you to ask, ''What is next? What will I see around the corner? What will be there?'

A small selection of photos from the book NY here

NY - My New York Photobook

New York.   NY.   

I’ve finally finished my New York book, NY.  

At the end of July, I went over to America for a two week break with my family and girlfriend, and as always I took my camera. We headed to New York and Washington but once I arrived I realised that I would have to focus the book on New York due to the sheer amount of moments I managed to capture there.

My idea?   To capture the feel of the city in photos.   To give the flavour of walking through the place and trying to capture some of the atmosphere of being there.   To try to give my own perspective on the city.   To tell a story of a place.

Did I succeed?   Judge for yourself and have a look through the book (better to hit the full screen button at the bottom right of the viewer):

Pick up a copy here

If you want to have a closer look at a real one and see the rest of the book, you can buy it here or give me a shout and we can meet up to show you a copy.

This has been the toughest photography project to date, but I feel that it was worth it.   Making books makes total sense to me at the moment.   I’m currently more interested in a group of photos that tell me more about something than individual ones and a book is the best way to put them together.   

Keep a lookout for more blogposts showing selected photos from the book.

New York is an amazing place, I just wish I had more time.

NY - Subway

Here's a moment of my trip about the New York subway.   It was originally going to be part of my book, NY, but I decided to cut it since it didn't really fit the book format.
The book is finished and I've sent for a proof print to make sure its ok, then I'll post more details, photos, etc.

On to the story....

We decide to take the subway and plunge down into the overwhelming, suffocating heat of the underground. We slow down in the flow of people as we try to figure out what to do. As always, in this situation everyone else know exactly where they are going and they stream through the space and away through the turnstiles and into the darkness beyond. The place is made of metal, like a massive machine and the noise is incredible.

The ticket machines are unintelligible so we proceed with caution towards an angry looking man in a tiny metal booth, surrounded by metal bars. Are the bars there to keep us out or him in, I wonder.

'What do you want?' he shouts through the crackly intercom. I ask for tickets then fumble with the money, trying to figure out the dollars and cents. An increasingly irate face peers back through the grating, but finally we get the tickets and we are away. I imagine the man shaking his head behind us.

Going down further into the bowels of the earth, the heat gets more and more overpowering.

On to the train and heading South, underneath the towering skyscrapers somewhere above our heads.  A nervous German family sit further up the train as the brakes screech and the lights flicker.   

Stop after stop we pass, then suddenly the train is above the streets.  Looking out, rain pours down graffiti covered walls on rough looking tenement housing blocks, as the bridge girders fly by and break the view.

We can hear music in the distance over the clatter of the carriage and the screech of the wheels on the track.   A carefree musician, passes through the train playing latin american music on his small guitar.   The subway is his stage.   
The German family stare at the floor and pretend he doesn’t exist, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I take a photo and give him some change.

An almost unintelligible announcement comes from a tannoy muttering something about Brooklyn.   The Germans go into a panic as our destination is changed.   They are lined up at the door of the train waiting to exit as the train goes on and on.   A New Yorker sitting infront of me shakes his head as we pass over the bridge into Brooklyn.   

As the train pulls up to the station, I lean forward and ask the man where we should go.   He offers to take us to the correct station to lower Manhattan as the Germans dart off the train and into the crowd, never to be seen again....