Smithfield Meat Market

The Smithfield meat market is one of the oldest markets in London, and one of the largest meat markets in Europe.  The imposing Victorian building supplies butchers, shops and restaurants with meat, and most of the trading happens around 4:00 am.  It is the only major market in London not to have moved out of central London for cheaper land, and is becoming increasingly off-limits to the general public.

I arrived at 2:30am.  Having been granted access, and fitted with a hard hat and white coat, it was as though I was given carte blanche.  I almost felt spoiled – this was quite a contrast to my usual covert/guerrilla photography.

What surprised me about the place was how clean and efficient everything was.  All the workers seemed to be in high spirits, cutting up carcasses while, what seemed like easy-listening elevator music played in the background.

Most of the guys I talked to had been working in the industry for over a decade, and I got a sense of camaraderie amongst the workers.  The dynamics between them reminded me of the time I spent living with the firefighters of Charlottesville.

Each of them seemed to maintain a certain threshold of masculinity, and enjoyed joking around or playing pranks on each other.  Charlie(pictured below), who’s younger than the rest, really got picked on while I was there: “Charlie!  Charlie!  Smile for the gentleman!  You’re going to be a movie star, Charlie!”

Poor Charlie was trying his best to not laugh, probably because I told him to be as he is and ignore me.  However, what he didn’t realize was that his queue to laugh is being as he is.  I have to be extra careful in the future, as asking for no art direction is art direction.

Buyers come with suitcases, and I actually saw them point all the way to the back to pick the carcass they want.

By the time I was done, it was 4:00, and unfortunately, I had to take two busses to get back to where I live.  London’s not as cool as NYC – it doesn’t have a 24/7 subway.  I waited 40 minutes in the blistering cold for my bus at the St. Paul’s bus stop, where I had nothing better to do than to take pictures:

Dubai and the UAE

The UAE is easily the second strangest place I’ve visited.  The only people I ever saw and interacted with were Indian or Pakistani males between the ages of 20 and 35.  According to the Lonely Planet, 90% of the population in Dubai are foreigners, meaning that the locals (Emiratis) make up the vast…minority.

The Burj Dubai

The first thing anyone will notice (and it can be seen even at the airport) is the towering Burj Dubai which is “not only the tallest building in whe world, but also the tallest man-made structure ever built.”  The first thing I noticed was actually the squat toilets.

The thing about Dubai’s new downtown (surrounding the Burj Dubai) is that it’s located some 10km from the old part of town.  And the famous 7 star hotel, the Burj Al Arab is another 10 km from that.  Dubai has got to be the most pedestrian unfriendly city that I’ve ever been.

Burj Al Arab

Dubai is often showcased as a cosmopolitan 21st century world class city – the place to be.  What was shocking to me was that most of the people I’d talked to who’d been to Dubai seemed to agree with such a statement.  I really wonder if most people just choose to buy into Dubai’s gaudy marketing façade.

Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum (right)

Dubai boasts the world’s largest [man made] mall – a true pinnacle of civilization.

If the hardware of this place has its place in the 21st century, then its obsolete software seems to date back to the 3rd.

somewhere outside of Ajman

If you’re not an Emirati, you pretty much don’t have any rights.  In fact, the laws of this country seem to be in place for the purpose of making sure Emiratis are and remain the privileged ruling minority, where the foreigners’ sole purpose in life is to serve them.  I learned from talking with some Indian and Pakistani workers that they come on a work visa where they’re not allowed to bring any member of their family.  There are mandatory regular health checkups which basically weeds out the unfit who subsequently get swiftly sent back home.

In an age where international migration is breaking down political borders, the UAE restricts citizenship to people within their clans.  There’s no path to naturalization, even if you live there for most of your life.  Marrying an Emirati woman is illegal (darn it) and you can’t get citizenship even if you’re born in the UAE.

Fujairah

A lot of the job descriptions you’ll see specify race, such as “EU/US/AUS only” and I’ve heard that the clubs openly discriminate against what races get to enter.  Most western passport holders can freely enter the UAE without a visa, but those who need a visa will find that it will cost them $120 to get one upon arrival.  Oh, and it’s also mandatory to declare their religion on the visa application form.

I wish I’d had more time to snoop around – it’s really quite a fascinating place.  Maybe next time I’ll disguise myself in a burqa – that way I’ll pass as an Emirati and won’t run the risk of getting denied entry to their posh clubs.

somewhere between Ras al-Khaimah and Fujairah

Sarajevo Gypsies

Elvis, 24, and Medina, 20, have been married for six years. They have a daughter, Elvisa, 5 (pictured with bottle), and they are expecting another child soon. Medina, who is eight months pregnant, dropped out of school shortly after third grade. Elvis has never gone to school. They live a nomadic lifestyle and are constantly on the move – always together with their extended family.

I found myself in the same compartment with Elvis and Medina on the train ride from Sarajevo to Mostar. As I was sitting face to face with Elvis, we tried to communicate with one another, and to my surprise, Elvis attempted to speak to me in Italian.

It turns out that Elvis relocated to Rome in the early 1990s during the Bosnian War. Growing up in Rome, I’d been well acquainted with gypsies. There was a gypsy camp not one kilometer from where I lived, and I’d pass their trailers every day on the way to school. The children would often play at the local church, the men could often be seen in grocery stores, picking up supplies, and many of the women begged on the streets; and in the early 1990s, they often (while begging) held up their IDs and documents, and cried out that they were from Sarajevo. This was the first time however, that I interact with one.

We talk about Italy for a bit, and eventually, Elvis tells me that he hated his time in Italy because of the prejudice his family experienced being gypsies (zingari). He said that Chinese restaurants were of the few places that did not refuse him service, and as a result, he ate at them once every few months. I was curious as to how he made money – he sold fake perfumes at beaches for a while, and worked several temporary odd jobs involving manual labor, and he’d stolen as well, which I got the impression he felt was justified.

Medina, at just 20 years, has lost most of her teeth due to poor dental hygiene. She also happens to be a chain smoker. The boy in the picture is Elvis’s younger brother Medio.

Top, clockwise: Esmeralda, 13, Elvis’s cousin, Medio, Elvisa, and Titanic, 11, named after the Hollywood blockbuster “Titanic.”

As I was taking pictures of them on the train, I noticed that the other Bosnians on the train seemed to find it strange I was interacting with them. It was pretty clear to me that Elvis’s family, even in their native country are discriminated against.

When the ticket checker came to our compartment, I noticed that none of them had a ticket. Elvis argued with the checker for a while in the local language, and he ended up successfully bribing the checker with the equivalent of 10 euro. Remarkable, as each ticket was 8 euro, and there were about 10 of them.

Elvis was constantly complaining of dental pain, and kept on taking some kind of painkiller. Eventually, he tore a piece of cardboard off of a cigarette carton, and fashioned it into a thin stick. He then had Medina insert it into a “tunnel” in his gums (see below).

And then when we got to Mostar, they left without saying goodbye. This is what Mostar looked like that night:

Remembering New York City

I think my favorite part of NYC will always be the Financial District with its mind-bogglingly, narrowly confusing street plan from which skyscrapers soar. The Woolworth building is my absolute favorite building in NYC. With its neo-Gothic architecture, it’s almost a century old, yet still one of the twenty tallest buildings in NYC. Below is a time-lapse video I made on my birthday, featuring this building from a view on 2 Gold Street – 52nd floor of an apartment roof deck to be precise. It took quite a few hours to make at a couple of thousand pictures each taken every 7 seconds. Images were strung together at 24fps in Quicktime, and then edited in iMovie with royalty free music. Please click on HD and watch in fullscreen mode.

On July 4th, the George Washington Bridge was lit up – I’d never seen it in that state ever before. This picture was made on my Washington Heights roof deck right before the Macy’s fireworks, which this year took place on the Hudson. Click on it – best viewed large.

And finally, a few souvenirs from the city:

Christina Gelsone the Professional Clown

Christina Gelsone is an internationally celebrated clown with a mission to bring laughter to post-conflict zones such as Kosovo and Afghanistan. The New York Times recently featured a story about her and her husband (who is also a clown) and their beautiful west Harlem apartment.

She could have easily been the most versatile model I’ve worked with, for her creativity and expressiveness is really quite unparalleled.

Our shoot began at the unforgiving early hour of 8, and because we’d run a bit late picking out costumes the previous day, neither of us got very much sleep at all. Quickly however, Christina’s enthusiasm paired with how great everything looked made me forget the lack of sleep.

Then, I had her juggle a couple of objects that differed in both shape and weight!

I thought it would be interesting to have her step into some different characters that we created on the spot. Here, she’s wearing a wedding dress she once used as part of a corpse bride act.

We tried different variations on the look. The white stuff by the way is for specialized clown use.

The day before, I saw pictures of Christina wearing a Qi Pao during her wedding which took place in China. Because she looked so striking in the wedding
photos, I wanted to have her wear it in the studio.

Admittedly, the Qi Pao with the white face is unconventional – the look seems both Chinese and Japanese, and Christina is neither.

She does this levitation move that is pretty awesome:

In case you guys were wondering how I lit these: just one profoto strobe with an octabank light modifier.

A few more days and I leave NYC for good. Though adventures await in Eastern Europe and London, I cannot help but lament.

On Location with Yuki Numata

This week I had the opportunity to work with renowned violinist Yuki Numata. The contagious passion in her music coupled with New York City as our location could not have been more exhilarating for a shoot.

Yuki is pictured here on the Brooklyn Bridge right after sunset on a stormy afternoon.

Needless to say, our scene drew a sizeable crowd that once in a while asked to be photographed with our star.

One bare Sb600 with a CTO gel:

Shoot through umbrella, Brooklyn Bridge and Financial District Manhattan in background:

Right before it started pouring, I had her stand in front of the Manhattan bridge. Look at those angry rain clouds.

And below, Yuki on a white seamless – one of those things that everyone seems to be raving about these days.

While photojournalism will always be my true love, I am utterly engrossed in portraiture these days. Oh, and I did her makeup for the first and last pictures.

Stay tuned for studio portraits of a professional clown.

Festival of the Photograph 2009

I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed Charlottesville until walking down the Downtown Mall reincarnated the familiarity and feeling of belonging. The explosion of photographs everywhere immediately took me back to the Look 3 Photo Festivals from the past two years, and I was utterly surprised to be recognizing faces of fellow photography enthusiasts – strangers, really, who like me have become regulars to this yearly celebratory event. Beyond the strangers I was reunited with friends that I hadn’t seen in a year or more. I was happy to be in their company during the Martin Parr talk in the Paramount Theater:

More specifically:

Left, Cat Thrasher, former president of the Virginia Photography Club that played an important part in shaping me as a photographer.

Right, Andrea Caldwell, who came with me a few years back to see Steve McCurry’s talk at the Miller Center.

Both Cat and Andrea are Look 3 veterans. A Charlottesville native, ex-Mallrat and recent photography enthusiast, Jessica Pan had her debut with Look 3 this year. She is a pre law student at UVa who will soon launch her very own law blog.  Jessica is pictured below in an archetypically suburban neighborhood named Redfields:

And once again, this time with me, on the Downtown Mall:

The photo galleries around the Downtown Mall looked like this (Gallery of award winning World Press Photos):

And below, Gilles Peress’s gallery:

There were many legendary photographers, such as Nick Nichols, standing and clapping, and David Alan Harvey, with the D700, and Eugene Richards, bald, sitting down:

The festival got everyone excited about photography, including this father equipped with a point and shoot:

I then ran into Justin and Liz on the downtown mall!

There was a closing party where people danced while taking pictures – sort of a photography dance:

The next day, there was a get together at Nick Nichols’s swimhole, close to Sugar Hollow:

And finally, that evening, we all got together with our friend and professional photographer Jon Golden for dinner at C&O, where he had an exhibition of his pictures from Iceland: