Backstory on Queensboro Bridge from Sutton Place
Most of my trips to New York for the past 25 years or so have used mid-town as a base--close to MoMA and walking distance southwest to the theatres. Over and over I’m also drawn in the opposite direction towards the Queensboro Bridge, Roosevelt Tram, and that little park by the East River at the very end of 57th Street. I usually take my camera. It has a life of of its own, which changes dramatically depending on the time of day. At night the children playing there during the day are in bed; instead the neighborhood dog walkers, river gazers, and kiss stealers come out to enjoy the view. On this particular late March night, there was also a guy smoking a joint by himself, probably unwinding after a stressful day at work. In that magical hour right after sunset, the camera captures the navy blue light that lingers in a long exposure--which we mortals can still feel, but not actually see.
This collage happened in a different way from most others I’ve made. Instead of deconstructing and rebuilding the couple dozen images that I took home, I began layering the full frame shots one on top of the other, revealing different parts from each one on the surface. Over time, that iridescent evening, and the people who shared it from the Sutton Place vantage point, came together in this piece.