After spending two and a half years living in New York, its easy to see why the words “clean” or even “pristine” would never be mentioned in the same breath as the word “subway”. The aesthetic design of our mass transit would never be described by the words “cunning” or “crisp”. This is no knock on the MTA – the dirty and decrepit subway just adds to the average New Yorker’s persona. Wouldn’t you be terse and rude if you had to transverse this (<– click there) twice a day? As I was reminded of when looking through some pictures from a trip to Denmark three years ago, the same cannot be said for the Copenhagen Metro.
In fact, they are so proud of their clean system in Denmark, they put a large, clear window on the back of the trains so one can always be reminded that the Scandinavian tunnels will always be cleaner than those of New York. Their stations aren’t bad either, with plenty of artistic value and plain old ingenuity (<– click there too – OK its Sweden, but close enough..) So Scandinavia, you have the piano on the stairs… but what beats a good ol’ New York City Subway performance?
A crisp Sunday afternoon brought a small group of us to Greenpoint, Brooklyn for the local celebration of Oktoberfest, right on the shores of the East River with Manhattan in the horizon. Although Greenpoint might be a bit too hipster and earthy crunchy for me to ever live, it was a great place to spend a few hours admiring the Manhattan skyline, drinking pumpkin brew, and people watching.
The overall demeanor of people was much more friendly and outgoing than I am used to as a resident of the Upper East Side (I just got a small taste of vomit in the back of my throat) and it is events like this that remind New York residents how much variety there is to see and do in this city. The celebration that was focused on food and beer only had one (very long) line for each, making one ponder what kind of thought went into the event’s planning, but on the bright side the wait give us a chance to check out the trumpet and trombone act, and see how many hipster dudes with funky glasses and bikes we could spot (see below). Once we finally did get our beer and settled down, we heard an announcement saying that anyone with small children might want to take this opportunity to bring them in the back to play – at which point the real show started – the burlesque act. It was an exciting surprise for all, especially those of us with cameras!
Hipster Dude with Funky Glasses and Bike
The Scene at Greenpoint's Oktoberfest
Burlesque Dancer
The Dutch certainly know how to throw a party. The latest lasted a few weeks, culminating with the New Island Festival on Governors Island. What is the occasion you ask? Well none other than Henry Hudson’s arrival in New York Harbor 400 years ago! The Dutch (apparently) are a proud nation, and are especially proud of their own discovery of New Amsterdam. Many forget the Dutch roots of this fantastic city, perhaps because we aren’t speaking Dutch or some close rendition like Afrikaans. But trust me, the Dutch never forgot.
For the proceedings they shipped over hundreds of artists, musicians, and assorted other people to take part in the festivities. A party in typical Dutch fashion, I was told. Lots of seemingly random unconnected things going on around the Island, with little thought given to what should go where or why, and for what? An open field with hundreds of paintings displayed on strange wooden planks, other strange art, interpretive dance, Dutch cuisine, a pirate party, a protest – you get the point. They even tried to ship over the world’s first jumping cow, albeit unsuccessfully due to strict US Customs Authorities. Instead, they took a local cow and let her roam the premises… “She likes art”, was the terse response from the Dutch man looking after her following an inquiry from a curious observer. This was just after he borrowed (commandeered) a little girl’s apple and tried to feed it to the cow. The cow rebuffed his offer and he promptly took his own bite. The cow again refused and the master concluded she wasn’t hungry, returning the half eaten cow-slobbered apple to the girl. She was unsatisfied.
One of the most interesting parts of the party were the old houses on Governors Island used for generations to house military personnel. More than anything else, the houses resembled something one might expect to see in Gettysburg. Old and eerie and made of wood – colonial style, no plumbing, quaint, etc. Narrow staircases led to upstairs bedrooms where someone must have died over the years, or was at least tortured/stricken with horrible disease. Four of these houses were converted to art exhibits by various artists. A few pictures of these exhibits can be seen. Only one of the four made any sense to me, and was actually quite interesting – a discussion through portraits and stories of the Flemish American community. The others ranged from disturbed to weird.
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Cow Refuses the Apple
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“She Likes Art”
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Disturbed
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Flemish Portraits
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Weird
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The flutist
view from the roof
New York city is so many different things for so many different people. Deep in Harlem on 151st Street and Broadway is a building of young musicians, students, and artists from all over the world. They often gather on their roof or in one of the many apartments for late night sessions of musical improvisation, dancing, and good old “hanging out”. The scene is a far cry fry from the swanky downtown nightlife, it is however just as “New York” as the rest. On this particular early summer night, the flutist stole the show.
The surreal and barren landscape was the rule rather than the exception in Iceland, especially in the winter. Even after landing at the main airport, it takes a 40 minute drive along the sea through a volcanic field that could be on mars before arriving in Reykjavik. Driving to a fjord near the capital, the Icelandic horses that dot the landscape contribute to the notion that you are not in a real place. Short and cuddly with a thick coat, the animals were bred for their brute strength, despite their small size. The horses were extremely friendly and jumped at the opportunity to come to the edge of the fence to greet us. They are also known for their special gait, the tolt, which is unique to the breed.
Not quite the picture you expected? A night at Apotheke, a place in the back alleys of China town that makes hands down the best and most creative mixed drinks in Manhattan. Is this picture not the quintessential “out in New York” picture for 20’s and 30’s crowd? The bartenders all wear lab coats, and the alcohol and other needed ingredients are found in chemistry beakers and bottles. What was nice about this place, was the surprisingly low key atmosphere for such a trendy Gotham spot. Complete with a tarot card reader, for an extra charge of course.
This is one of my personal favorites, even though its way before the time of my digital SLR. What is a nice Jewish boy doing with a Palestinian police officer in Bethlehem under the pictures of the late Yasser Arafat and Mamoud Abbas, you ask? I’ve never been one to 100% follow the rules, even if I wasn’t getting sent to the principal’s office throughout high school, running into trouble with the law, etc.
As a (Jewish) student studying abroad at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 2006, it was certainly not permitted to enter areas controlled by the Palestinian Authority. But, my whole life I had been spoon fed one side of the story, and wanted to see the other first hand. So I threw on my Christian Brothers Academy football fleece and went on my way. The hardest part was undoubtedly the posters that were hung everywhere glorifying the “shahids” that had been killed (or killed themselves) in the fight against the Zionist enemy. The best part was the overall friendliness of the people in the streets, the great food, and the historical significance of the places we walked.
Sooner or later I will also post a picture from my venture into Ramallah. It helped that I had befriended a German student and some local Armenians, who were more than happy to accompany me. At the time I was very proud of this picture, and still am. Although this picture is taken all but a stone’s throw (less than 5 miles) from where I was studying, it took at least 40 minutes of checkpoints and circumventions to get to Bethlehem. My Catholic school education made the trip even more interesting. There is plenty I could say about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that I will withhold for now – maybe until I have the chance to spend some time in the region with my new camera.
Deep contemplation, weariness, excitement, and reflection are all apparent in this picture depicting a foreign worker in transit – most likely on his way back to visit a family he may not have seen for months or even years. The reality that this worker faces is the reality that many face, often overlooked by people who are not in similar situations. Working endless hours, often early in the morning or late into the night, for minuscule wages. Many of them are working illegally, which makes them even more susceptible to exploitation by their employers. While their relative conditions in the United States and Western Europe are barely acceptable, in other parts of the world they face far more difficult conditions.
Before I had taken this picture I had only had my camera about two months. One of the motivating factors for buying a nice camera was indeed my upcoming trip to Iceland, and I made sure to give myself some amount of time to become familiar with the device before departing. This photo of Landmannalaugar, Iceland was the first photo I took after which a feeling of deep satisfaction set in. Looking back, it was this moment that I realized photography would be a fitting hobby.
We had just finished a long and memorable day, traveling 4 hours over countless feet of snow in an offroad truck with enormous tires. We had travelled under power lines, through volcanic fields, up a mountain, over a volcano crater, and through a river to reach the final remote destination of landmannalaugar. Anton, our guide for the trip with the most dry sense of humor, claimed he “never” got stuck. Yeah right.
When we finally did arrive, we put our things in the cabin and set out to explore. We found a grill to cook that night’s leg of lamb, the outhouse, and the best attraction of all, the geothermal hot spring – which was used to heat the cabin. What we did not find however, were other people. While Landmannalaugar is a popular summer tourist destination, with often up to 50 people sleeping in the main cabin a night, the winter is a completely different story. After a hearty dinner, we made our way in our bathing suits and snow-mobile outfits (to keep warm) down to the hot springs. Wading in the 100 degree water nestled between two mountains and under a star filled sky complete with Northern Lights was something I will never forget – partially thanks to this photo.
After everyone retired to bed, I went to the top of the cabin and opened the back window. I set my camera shutter speed to 30 seconds, rested it on the ledge, and took the picture. The moon, its reflection of the snow, and the mountains will help me remember this once in a lifetime (or maybe more? I definitely want to go back) experience.
