Covid-19 -- People

After returning to Portland on March 13^th, Joanie and I have pretty much spent all of our time, like most everyone else we know, staying at home. One of very few exceptions is that I have walked city streets taking pictures. I’ve focused on four locations, always wearing a mask, and staying ten-to-twelve feet away from other people. Because of social distancing, I’ve abandoned the Leica Q camera I most often carry and am using a Fuji xt3 with a 18x55 zoom lens. I usually stand a few feet from individuals when I take their portraits, but of course Covid-19 makes that impossible – thus the change in gear.

Last week I had a conversation with a photographer for whom I have deep respect. Like myself, he makes photographs on the streets and situates himself very close to the individuals he portrays. He told me that he hadn’t been shooting on the streets. First: because of the stay-at-home order and the possibility of transmitting the virus; but also, because it was so different on the streets than it was in pre-virus days. While I understand and am totally appreciate his decision, I’ve made a choice to take pictures. And I must say, shooting during Covid-19 is very different for me than it was in the past. Unlike one of my teachers, Peter Turnley, I am not photographing the horrible price people are paying because of the virus, nor the heroic efforts of other individuals who are putting their lives on-the-line helping those who have the disease. Rather, I’m shooting people who are out walking, maybe going to a grocery store, and on some occasions individuals who are living on the streets of Portland. A dozen images are displayed below:

William Klein

I’ve been reading Aperture Conversations – interviews with various photographers that appeared in Aperture between 1985 and 2018. I’m picking out quotes in the interviews that I’m reading. Like the following quote from William Klein who was talking about his book Brooklyn with Aaron Schuman. He had mentioned that he always thought of Brooklyn as “Hicksville” because he was a Manhattan person.

There were things that happened in Brooklyn that I don’t think could happen anywhere else. One night we were watching a [minor-league] doubleheader: the Brooklyn Cyclones against the Staten Island Yankees. Staten Island, can you imagine? How can they be Yankees? Anyhow, we were watching the doubleheader and a guy came over. He recognized me and said, “I’m a Czech rabbi. I came over to Brooklyn in 1980, and I remember the 1985 playoffs like it was yesterday. Do you remember that?” And I said, “No, I don’t.” [laughs] And here’s this Czech rabbi reminiscing about the playoffs in 1985, and he said, “Do you want to see a Hasidic prayer session?” And I said, “Sure.” And this was at, like, midnight. So we went there, and they all had fur hats on; this was in August. And they said, “Okay, you can take photographs, but no faces.” Then after a while they relented and started coming over to me, saying, “Take a picture of that guy—he’s got an incredible face!” That was the weirdest evening I’ve had in a long time.

The Elder

I have spent time the last four days working on a black & white edition of my photographs from Cuba. What I especially like is that the eyes speak more than in the color images. I will soon create a gallery for www.streetpixx.com and hopefully a book. Below are four pictures of "The Elder," one of the women I met at a tobacco farm outside of Vinales. She couldn't talk or hear and at one point when a younger worker was preening for some of my fellow photographers, she rolled her eyes and gave the cuckoo sign with her finger.

Eighth of Ten -- Thoughts on My Photographs in Separate Wings of the Same Bird

The theme here is friends. Two individuals in each photograph who appear to know each other—to spend time together.

Photograph VX – Best Friends

  

I took this as the sun went down my first night in Havana. I was on a narrow street, the same road where I photographed the grandmother in an earlier post. I took a half dozen photographs of these boys but this is my favorite—the way they touched. The background is perfect but also sad—the deterioration.

Photograph VXI – Morning Coffee at Plaza de Armas

  

I liked the composition. Both me worked at the Plaza. The garbage container on the right matches the bag held by the man on the left. This shot was taken first thing in the morning I saw them together throughout the day.

Seventh of Ten -- Thoughts on My Photographs in Separate Wings of the Same Bird

People shopping versus people sitting on the bench at La Placita—no need for further explanation of color v black & white or Cuba v Puerto Rico.

Photograph XIII – Shopping

I loved this corner and spent time watching people walk through. Must have shot a dozen pics but this one had everything I wanted. All three people’s eyes spoke to me. I loved the woman coming up the street with other people and the shops behind her. Finally, the blue wall and red car filled the frame perfectly. I wouldn’t dare to explain what the eight eyes are saying—I love that they’re looking right at me as I shoot.

Photograph XVI – Lottery Ticket Seller & Friend

I saw these people every day for a week. She shrugged when I gave her this pic but she looked right at me every time I shot. He talked to me, was sweet, and always had his bottle. Am thinking of a series just on him as I must have 25 images.

Sixth of Ten -- Thoughts on My Photographs in Separate Wings of the Same Bird

I placed these photographs together for three reasons—age, posture, and texture.

Photograph XI – On the Bench at La Placita

I took five or six photographs of this man sitting outside of La Placita. First, it was his eyes staring back at me—strong. I also noticed the key around his neck, something that many of the people I photographed at the market wore. It’s significant because it represents people coming from their homes to spend days in public places, Public Living Rooms.

Photograph XII – Abuelo Early Evening in Havana Viejo

The light was perfect and this diminutive woman had eyes that spoke. Like many of her neighbors, she sat on the stoep avoiding the heat and living in public. After leaving Cuba I revisited Peter Turnley, my teacher’s, book on Cuba. He had taken a photograph of the same woman – I hadn’t remembered it and he never mentioned it?

Fifth of Ten -- Thoughts on My Photographs in Separate Wings of the Same Bird

Photographs IX & X in the exhibit are both from Cuba. I did this because of the location in the Beaverton City Library where they hang – behind a desk at the entrance where black and white prints are hard to see.

Photograph IX – Elder at the Tobacco Farm, Vinales

I immediately wanted to take a picture that focused on her face but also caught the colors and texture of her jacket. The lines in the field frame her and that’s important to the photograph. This woman could neither speak nor hear. Just after taking the photo, she twirled her finger at the side of her head referring to one of her fellow workers who was working the crowd of photographers.

Photograph X -- Drummer, Havana

We were at a Plaza listening to music, watching dancers, surrounded by many children. I sat on a wall patiently and this photograph was the outcome. I had been watching the drummer and wanted to take his portrait. When the woman wearing American flag pants came in the frame, I knew I had the pic I wanted. Parenthetically, American flag clothing was not unusual.