The New Yorker

Every day I post a photo, and a short essay. As if I’m showing off. But I’m not showing off. It’s not me that’s glowing full of energy and light. I lead people to places where the texture is interesting and the sunlight is filtered and I point a camera at them and record what I see. And I post the results partly because I am astounded by them and partly to show other people why it makes a difference to pay someone to take their picture with a good camera and a decent eye.

I have said this a hundred times but this is like a dance. Two people in a delicate energetic relationship. Yes I have a good camera. Yes I can compose a good photo. But it’s you who delivers the goods. Not to put too much pressure on you but the look and feel of your photos is really in your hands. You have to own it. You have to want it. You can’t really be timid or afraid. And part of my job is to make you feel less so.

My personality is as much part of this process as my camera. Maybe even more so. You’ve got to feel comfortable with me. You have to trust me. And I learned to do that very early in my life, at a young age, in the streets of New York where strangers get up in your face and can smell bullshit a mile off. I don’t bullshit. I am my authentic self. I love people. And I think that’s one reason why I can do a good portrait.

In New York it’s all about relationships. They’re either real or they’re not and you know it in minutes. No, in seconds. You have seconds to establish yourself as real or phony and when I was growing up, and where I used to go, that could sometimes be a life or death distinction. I learned early on to be real. 

It’s that realness which draws out your realness which helps to create a photograph that is authentically you. And that’s what I bring to the table. So if you hire me, you’re hiring a New Yorker who, though he’s lived in California for 30 years, still retains that essential street smart ability to relate to anyone in seconds.