Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Brittany in 2006. Brittany in 2011.

I first met Brittany in 2006. Kerri, Joanne's daughter had introduced her to one summer day in August. She was walking down the Boulevard, carrying a grocery bag in her hand. She was young and pregnant.
Few words were exchanged, I took a photograph of her, she smiled and I got her mobile number.

I could never track her down and sometimes when I ran into some of her friends, I would ask for her. I could sense she was avoiding me. After, leaving several messages on her voicemail, I tried to get through one more time to find that the phone had been disconnected. This never shocked me.


 "Brittany Pregnant", Rockaways, Queens, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley




"Brittany with Her Child on the Boulevard", Rockaways, Queens, NYC, 2011. Juliana Beasley



I'm putting this photo up just now because in my last post, I put a photograph of her this St. Paddy's Day.
That chilly day, she was standing again out on the Boulevard, this time with a stroller. The interaction was quick. We were in a crowd of people on the sidewalk waiting for the parade to pass. I took her photograph and in the commotion, I believe she told me this was her second child. I took her number again and wondered if maybe this time, she would return my calls.

I decided to repost the image of Brittany from a couple of weeks ago to show the contrast of her five years ago and her now.

Monday, March 28, 2011

I Photographed On St. Paddy's Day in the Rockaways, #2

The photographs and story begins in the post below.


"Brittany with Her Child on the Boulevard", Rockaways, Queens, NYC, 3/11. Juliana Beasley



Our first stop was right next to the subway entrance, my favorite diner. It had become part of my regular routine.

"Would you like something to eat?", I asked Amy.

She declined. We found a table, set down our bags. The waitresses rushed by, one set a two menus in front of us and said she would be right back to take our order. I always got the same thing, two eggs or medium, home fries, whole wheat toast (toasted with butter on the side) and bacon. I looked around the diner to see if I could recognize any of my old chums were sitting at a table drinking holding onto an empty cup waiting for their next refill. No, one in sight. I was hoping to see Barbara, the woman who delivered the paper early in the morning and then spent her mornings and early afternoons drinking coffee there.

I called Charlie, my old friend who had always let me sleep on his floor if I spent a couple of nights out there. The last time, I called he was stuttering and I had a hard time understanding him. He told me he had had a stroke. I could barely understand him on the phone. He apologized for his inability to form words.

"Call back later" he said, "You can talk to Sheri."

Several minutes later, a woman with a thick Caribbean accent picked up the phone. It was Sheri. She explained that she was Charlie's home health care aide.

"We were on our way to the Kerry Hill, " I said. "Can we meet in 45 minutes at the diner?'



"Ma Smoking at Her Kitchen Table", Rockways, Queens, NYC, 3/11. Juliana Beasley



The day was not as it was expected. But, then it never is when I go out there. I can't seem to make any plans; they normally fall through. My time was not spent photographing the the onlookers of the St. Paddy's Day parade. I ran into people that I knew on the boulevard. Kerri had another baby and so, did Brittany. Katrina had grown up from a eight-year old into teenager and had no interest in talking to me, let alone stand next to me. I exchanged a few words and laughs with them. I was informed that many no longer lived in the neighborhood but had moved out to Long Island or to other boroughs. They simply said there was nothing to do out in the Rockaways.  They were only in the neighborhood for the day to gather in a celebration that bound their Irish patriotism.

I didn't recognize anyone in the Kerry Hill except Margie, the bartender and Carmel the bar owner. I ordered a double Jamenson with a side of Diet Coke and chugged it down.

"Would you like a drink", I asked Amy. No, she didn't. Before 12pm, the bar was packed, not with the regulars I once knew, but with a cheerful bunch decked out in green hats and necklaces.

We soon left and walked out the door and onto the Boulevard. I could see Charlie and Sheri in the distance coming towards us. They had their elbows linked as they walked slowly together. I yelled Charlie's name, ran up to him and gave him a big hug. Upon seeing him, I had forgotten how much I missed him. I missed his reserved and quiet good nature. I remembered how years ago we would watch old films together on the Turner Classic station in his room and how he had to wake me up several times during the night because I was snoring. Times had changed. I got to know him before he was sober and in the worst condition, now he was sober, older but his living conditions were better. We had both gotten older.




"St. Paddy's Parade Spectator", Rockaways, Queens, NYC, 3/11. Juliana Beasley



We had Lipton Tea together at the diner. Charlie and I shared simple words. When it was time to leave, I offered to pay the check. He wouldn't have it and I let him have his way. He asked if we would stop by his place later, "Yes," I said.

I could elaborate on all the things that happened that day but instead, for now, I can only write my sentiments and what was most impressive to me during this one day trip out there. Like I said two years had passed since I had gotten off the train at 116 Street.

Despite the fact that Charlie had had a stroke, I was happy to see Charlie in good hands. He was getting the care that he needed. He was no longer alone sitting in his room. We went and visited him later during the day. For the first time, his room was tidy and his bed was made and his clothes were in a closet. He pulled out photographs that were nicely kept in a basket sitting on his dresser. He was proud to show me photographs of his new granddaughter and old pictures of himself from much younger days.

We stopped off at the boarding house where I had met Ma in 2009. I knocked on her door and for the first time, I entered her home. The photographs in this entry and my last are from that meeting. A friend of hers had recently died and she shared images of him. She was still in mourning and clearly lonely without her friend. I took some photographs. Amy listened intently. I could see that she was happy to have the company and someone to talk with.



"Green St. Paddy's Kids", Rockaways, Queens, NYC, 3/11. Juliana Beasley



The trip was quick. I had shot very little film. I worried and regretted. Yet, I was truly inspired and my enthusiasm was once again on fire. I knew I would go back again and spend more time... the time it takes to really sit down with someone and give them your full attention, the time it takes to take a meaningful photograph, one which speaks of both subject and photographer. I had just put my feet back on the ground.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

I Photographed On St. Paddy's Day in the Rockaways, #1

"Portrait of Ma", Rockaway, Queens, NYC, 3/11. Juliana Beasley.




On April 7, I told my friends that I was going to photograph the St. Paddy's Day Parade out in the Rockaways, my old stomping ground.

 "No, " they told me. "St. Paddy's is on the 17th." But, I knew differently. The real St. Paddy's Day is celebrated in all it's green glory out in the Rockaways.

I hadn't been out to the Rockaways since 2009.

In all the years that I have been commuting back and forth to the Rockaways, I never had a chance ( I was out of town, I forgot the date, I was unmotivated) to photograph the parade in a town once called "Irishtown" because so many Irish immigrants had settled in the community. I knew some of the old timers, the real Irishman and women who were born and raised in Ireland and still maintained a healthy brogue. I also knew some of the second generation Irish Americans, as well as, some of their kids.

Last minute, I wanted to find an intern/assistant. In desperation, only, a few days before the event, I was considering posting the day's internship to attract a possible candidate. I wanted to bring two different cameras and needed help carrying one bag to lighten my load while shooting. I put the word out to fellow photo friends. My friend David returned my text and thought he might have the perfect match for me. He told me she was a student in the photography program at the Fashion Institute of Technology.

"Go friend her on Facebook, " he said.

And I did. I needed an intern right away. I didn't have the time to be so selective. I found her on Facebook.

I looked through her photo albums on her page. There were all the usual photographs of her goofing with friends at parties. The drinks, the laughs, the mocking and perhaps, a couple of people throwing the ubiquitous popular gang signs. She was pretty. She had lot's of friends. But, honestly, none of this really mattered. In the deceptive world of Facebook, everyone wants to portray themselves as a winner and not a loser. I wasn't necessarily looking for a winner, I was looking for someone enthusiastic, helpful, and eager to learn something on a weekend afternoon.


And then I found a great self-portrait of her with her cat. The way she held the cat and looked into the camera, I felt whether true or only a projected fantasy on my part, that this girl was kind. In another self-portrait, she held a medium format camera. Ah, I could see she was in her early twenties and yet, had opted to shoot film instead of digital.

She accepted my friendship request. She was interested and free on Saturday.

Her name was Amy. It was Wednesday. There was no time to meet for a casual interview.

Between, text messages, e-mails and then a brief phone conversation, I explained the basic things I expected of her. I told her what I needed and the rest I could explain on the subway out to the Rockaways.

We set a date for 9am on the platform at Chambers St. in lower Manhattan. I told her I was petite--not short--and had short dark hair. She was also, not so tall and had long brown hair.

The next item on my shoot list was to find a way to blend in, a way to mix with the native parade onlookers.

Find green cheap and green clothes.




"Green Girl at St. Paddy's Parade", Rockaways, Queens, NYC, 3/11. Juliana Beasley




I went to the local Rainbow store where I knew I would find some cheap green shirts. I walked out the store and went to the nearby Duane Reade's, looked through the selections of green nail polish and green eyeliner. Picked up one of each for both Amy and me.

I dialed her number and left a message, "Amy, if you can, wear green nail polish." I couldn't possibly expect her to paint her fingernails on the subway.

And then to an outside market, where I bought a green knit hat that looked very funky and fashionable at that moment, so, I bought it.  Later, it looked like a frumpy hat that an eccentric older woman might sport. Nevertheless, the thought of dressing up and taking pictures in one day felt like good fun to me.

As I walked down the quiet and almost empty platform at 9 am that Saturday, I noticed a young woman sitting on a bench. "Amy?", I yelled.

Yes, it was her, she walked towards me and smiled. We got on the next train.

The subway cars were pretty quiet for a Saturday morning. I took the time to show her my equipment, explain her responsibilities. Once above ground, I pulled out my mobile and started to call the numbers of people that I knew out there. I called Charlie, Trailer Bob, Michelle, Margie and Bobby. No one picked up. I left messages. Bobby and I had already made a tentative date to meet at Roger's Pub. He told me to come early, get a seat before the parade ended the bars became crammed.

The closer we got to our destination, I noticed the St. Paddy's vendors pushing shopping carts onto the train filled with green stuffed animals. We got off the end of the line. 116th St.

More text and images soon. Very soon.

I did these scans quickly, so, they are not of the best quality. They are, in a sense, work prints for my project and edited from contact scans very quickly.




Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Congrats to the Open Walls 18! Come to Open Society!

Samantha Box's photograph from her project on LGBTQ




I've been to past shows and I am always blown away with the work.

Here's the location:

Open Society Foundations
400 West 59th Street
New York, NY 10019, U.S.A.
Tel. 1-212-548-0600
Fax. 1-212-548-4600

At  5:30 pm to 8 pm 

Moving Walls is a documentary photography exhibition produced by the Open Society Institute that features in-depth and nuanced explorations of human rights and social issues.  These images provide the world with human rights evidence, put faces onto a conflict, document the struggles and defiance of marginalized people, reframe how issues are discussed publicly, and provide opportunities for reflection and discussion. 

The Moving Walls 18 photographers join an illustrious roster of over 100 documentary photographers featured in the exhibition since 1998. Through Moving Walls, OSI honors the brave and difficult work that these photographers have undertaken while visually highlighting the mission of our foundation to staff and visitors.

Work was selected through an open competition process. Over 200 submissions were received and final selections were made by a committee of foundation staff and the exhibit curators, Susan Meiselas and Stuart Alexander.

Moving Walls 18 Photographers

  • Samantha Box: LGBTQ homeless youth in New York City
  • Gabriela Bulisova: Iraqi translators in exile in the United States
  • Benedicte Desrus: Anti-gay and LGBTI rights movements in Uganda
  • Andrea Diefenbach: Labor migration from Moldova
  • Carolyn Drake: Amu Darya and Syr Darya Rivers and the cotton harvest in Central Asia
  • Abdi Roble: Somali diaspora in the United States
  • Tadej Žnidarcic: Portraits and interviews of gay and lesbian individuals in Uganda
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Monday, February 28, 2011

More Photographs and Words from Church on The Rock

"Flip Hairstyle", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



After I photographed each member of the congregation who passed through are make-shift studio leading to the exit of the church, a young woman with bleach blonde hair approached me me.  I asked her too as I had done with the others, "What is your New Year's resolution?"

Her mother and sisters waited outside. The door was held ajar and I could feel the cold air biting against my cheeks.

"I don't feel very good," she said.

"I took an overdose of my epilepsy medication yesterday. I feel really horrible. I tried to kill myself yesterday, " she said.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Are you feeling alright?" I asked. "It's good that you came to church today."

The day before she had locked herself in the bathroom until her parents managed to get through the door. They had taken her to the emergency room. It's seemed incredible and almost impossible that she could be standing in front of me after such a trauma to her body and psyche. I couldn't make sense of the story, only that she wanted to die and that she hated herself.


"Laker's Fan", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



Her honesty and our position in front of the door as others tried to move around us and exit felt equally awkward.  I didn't know what to say. I knew I didn't have enough time to help her or give her some hope.

"I feel better today though, "she said. "I can't believe I did that. It was so stupid."

"You are going to be alright? " I said. "It's good that you came today. Did you pray for help and guidance?"

"Yes, " she said.


"Met's Fan", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley




"Girl with Scarf", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley




"Woman in Red Coat", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley




Prayer and religion are not a part of my vocabulary, but I knew that I had to connect with her within her belief system and not mine.

I wrote down her name and her phone number. I told her I would call her. She said good-bye. I could do nothing else but give her a strong hug and tell her it would be alright. Or at least, I hoped it would be alright.

"Are you almost ready? " a man standing anxiously with a set of keys looked on as we packed my photo gear into bags.



My assistant and I quickly packed up the remainder of my things. We picked up my belonging,and
walked through the door that was quickly locked behind us.




"Charlie", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley

Friday, February 25, 2011

Church on The Rock, New Years Day 2006.

"Pastor Gary's Son with His Wife and Son", Rockaways, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



I have never posted these images and have only shown them to a few people. They are part of another project, one of those projects you might write down on a list somewhere, the project you plan to revisit. Sometimes, we wait too long and never return, other times, for whatever reason in the cosmos, the attraction is so strong, you can't stay away. This is how I have been feeling lately about this group of portraits that I shot in no more than twenty minutes.

On New Year's Day 2006, I drove out to the Rockaways to photograph at a small storefront church named appropriately "Church on the Rock".  The church is overseen by Pastor Gary as he is fondly known to the congregation. On weekends, he can be found preaching at the lectern on a humble stage.

When I saw Pastor Gary that very New Year's Day, a very frigid day as I recall, he recounted of his half way house in upstate New York. As far as I know, he told me that he was providing a service to the neighborhood, taking in addicted and alcoholic men and under his wing and under God's direction to find a sober and healthier life.



"Charles", Rockaways, NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



When I arrived the service had already begun. I created a make-shift studio against the wall next to the entrance and put my brand new Mamiya 645 on my new tripod. I had shot with the Mamiya possibly once before (and sadly enough not much at since). Tripods, now that was a new concept! In the past, they felt cumbersome, even the sturdy light Gitzo investment I had carted along.

We were crammed in between blue office chairs that were used instead of pews. Pushing them aside, we tried to move as far away from the wall backdrop as we could and even managed to set up a Vivitar on light stand. I felt like I was completely working somewhere, not outside of my skill set, but in a very new way that felt exciting. Thankfully, I had a friend there to help me. We had about 10 minutes to set up and take a test Polaroid. I asked my friend to put the test shot under her shirt to warm it up and speed the processing... I could see through the doorway that many had already gathered their personal belongings, preparing to leave.



"Brother and Sister", NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



No, it wasn't perfect but that suited me fine.

As the service ended, the members of the congregation began to slowly move towards our studio. After all, the only way to exit the church was to pass in front of my camera.. The line moved quickly, most obliged me with a portrait, rarely anyone refused. I shot a couple of frames.

The congregation was eclectic. Some came in well-worn clothes but others were dressed for their Sunday best.

One well-groomed couple introduced themselves to me and said they had recently bought a larger renovated home in the neighborhood. They represented the slow trickle of gentrification changing the colorful spirit of the Rockaways, for better or worse. I was surprised to see the middle-aged couple whom clearly had a more comfortable existence than most of the other members. They were cheerful, open-minded and made sure to mingle with others.

"Can I take your New Year's portrait?" I asked the people as they walked by.

And after a couple of shot frames. I asked, "What do you wish for the New Year? Do you have a New Year's resolutions?" I had also brought along my new digital recorder for interviewing.



"Woman with Her Purse", NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



Some wished for happiness, others peace, others health. No one had any specific requests. I was disheartened and finally, lost interest in asking.



"Red Head Girl", NYC, 2006. Juliana Beasley



Where was Pastor Gary? He must have slipped out the back door and I never got his portrait.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Random Photographs and Moving Ahead With Rockaways

"Elvie", Rockaway Park, NYC. 2004. Juliana Beasley



Dear Friends,

Much has been happening in my own life that has kept me away from my blogging commitments. I have been working on a short story about my experience out in the Rockaways and revolves around 3 central characters-- one myself.

My plan is to share it to you in 4 paragraph block entries with photographs included. That's the plan!

I hope that I will finish it soon or at least in 2 months.

I am slowly coming out of hibernation and looking forward to the spring.



"Butch's Hair", Rockaway Park, NYC, 2003. Juliana Beasley



"Irish Venetian Blinds", Rockaways Park, NYC. 2008. Juliana Beasley



The good news is that I have found a wonderful book designer for my Rockaway book dummy. Julia Braun who is incredibly talented and so far the joint effort and her savvy experience is coming together. We share notes and ideas on Skype and converse over two time zones. I am lucky to have her on board. And as you can imagine, I am excited to have the six years of hard and happy work in my hands.

I am posting some photographs that I found amongst my scans from the past. They are not meant necessarily for the book but just simply for feedback.

Best wishes!
Yours,
Juliana