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No Service 1986*

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Centersongs*

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New Fashion Week Perspective*

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Asha for Majestic Disorder Magazine*

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Prince: 1958 – 2016

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AF 131*

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PPQ FW16.

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R13 FW16*

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Michael.

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  • a Portrait of —
  • Social Distance. Captured for @time
  • Captured for @nytimes Stella, Theo and Melany are schoolmates who organised a protest for children in Manhattan’s Fort Tryon Park during the first full week of protests for the police deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. About 300 people arrived to join them. If you are sitting on your phone or laptop and have been saying that you want to contribute to the cause but haven’t yet because you don’t know how, a plethora of solutions are literally a click away. The only thing holding you back now is you.
  • Juneteenth Captured for @nytimes
  • CommUNITY. Captured for @nytimes
  • Captured for @nytimes A rally for black trans people drew thousands of protesters dressed in white, recalling one of the most notable protests in New York history, the Silent Parade, when the N.A.A.C.P. assembled nearly 10,000 people in 1917, all wearing white and silently marching down Fifth Avenue to demand an end to violence against black people. A century later, the spirit of that movement lived on a day before the Supreme Court issued a landmark decision for gay and trans rights in the US. _ On a personal note, some of the most beautiful and heartbreaking speeches I’ve ever witnessed in my life were delivered on this day. No human being should ever have to plead to be loved and respected by the rest of humanity simply for existing. ....I never would have imagined that black trans people in particular would have as many white allies that showed up to the Brooklyn Museum on Sunday. _ Thank you, New York, for continuing to surprise and educate me.
  • Protect the Future.
  • Captured for @nytimes The revolution will not be televised.
  • Captured for @nytimes When I bought my first camera, it was simply because I needed something to do. I didn’t have an exact goal to become a photographer, but there was this explicit idea to pick up something I’d never done before and try to see if I could come close to mastering a skill through repetition. I chose a photo camera even though at the time I couldn’t afford it, and was extremely nervous about losing interest in it and having the camera soon collect dust on a shelf. That I definitely couldn’t afford. What prompted me to go out onto the streets and start asking random strangers if I could take their portrait was simple: I wanted to meet people. And meeting people is easy. (If you know, you know) Although my initial motivation was to build a proficiency by taking portraits over and over and every day, it occurred to me that what really got me out of bed was simply the chance to meet people. Most interactions would be about the same and could take anywhere from 10 seconds to 2 minutes, but occasionally, a chance meeting would happen that would alter the course of both my day and my future. As time went on I would photograph thousands of strangers on the street, always for free and without bias. I get this question in my inbox several times a day now: some of you wonder with a movement like this if it is difficult for me to capture portraits of people when so many people feel uneasy about having their photo taken. I would say that as sentient beings we communicate in so many ways with each other that are not strictly verbal. When I say that approaching people to capture their portrait is easy for me, it is not a signal that I am better than you or any other photographer. (There are an endless number of photographers wildly better.) But, it is a reflection of the thousands of hours I had already put into approaching thousands of people for a photograph. When I approach someone for a photo, esp during these times, I ultimately hope they understand it is because I genuinely “see them”, and I want the world to see what I see. I never explain this in the moment, but we are communicating without words. I believe that they know.
  • Captured for @nytimes _ I was a normal sized kid until I turned 10 or 11, when my growth spurt kicked in. Rounding into one’s teens is awkward and not fun for almost every kid, but I was beset with a comically unique set of circumstances. Imagine half of your body deciding that it wants to be tall, but the other half of the body not receiving the message yet; this is what my growth spurt was like. _ By 13, I was maybe about 5’8”, by 14 I had grown into a size 13 (46 euro) shoe. _ I could already palm a basketball. By the time I grew to be about 5’11”, my arms were so long that I could grab my entire knees standing up without hunching over. My friends and classmates called me Gumby — it was too true to even be a pejorative. Today, I stand at a respective (tall) 6’2”, but my wingspan is about 6’8” and my standing reach is over 8 feet; this makes it possible for me to grab a basketball net without jumping. In other words, I can do “very tall person” things but I am just “regular” tall. _ I kind of thought it was a waste of measurables to be honest, that I never rounded into a better basketball or soccer player although I completely maxed out the metrics I was given. As an adult, trust me when I say being this kind of long sucks more than you think. I almost always have to pay more money to sit in airplane seat with enough legroom, there’s no such thing as a long sleeved shirt off the rack that fits, and, when I am outside of America, if I need a pair of shoes for ANY reason, I’m crap out of luck. _ It wasn’t until I picked up photography that I realised that I could use my length in some ways that had nothing to do with sport. Like this series of photos, I don’t have to climb anything to to see an entire crowd. And I spent so many hours and years looking for people when doing my old street photography, that I’m a hawk at finding anybody in a crowd, but especially lost party members for strangers I don’t even know. _ I figure I should maybe thank my mum for giving me long arms and stupidly big hands, but … she’s only 5’4” … what are you gonna do, you know?
  • Captured for @nytimes From the Duke Ellington statue in East Harlem, the crowds marched down 5th Avenue in a complete shade from the trees of Central Park … the kind of luxury that could only be afforded to residents on the Upper East Side on a day that would later be so humid. For someone who so covets the advantages of daylight for his work, I never once considered the advantages of living on the east side of anything before until this march. The entire mood and spirit of the protesters, uplifted even, for the opportunity to walk under cover while the trees from the park provided a much needed oxygen boost to the crowd. _ Maybe it was the trees. 
Maybe it was the earth exhaling a breath to commemorate George Floyd’s funeral. _
Everyone needs a bit of help sometimes. 
But the humidity was apparent; many of the men who wore suits were already perspiring through; starched collars began to sink and — ‘if we could only get to the end of this march, please hair, please hold — _
It was at the summit of the hill at the corner of 96th and Park that I ran to get enough distance between myself and the front of the march, hoping to get the kind of photograph that might fully articulate what that moment in that space felt like. A few photographers followed me, but had turned their attention back to the crowd. This lone man with his bike, was simply waiting at the red light when he saw the sea of Sunday Best dressed black folks slowly approaching. He didn’t think twice about dismounting from his bicycle and taking a knee. Not with any other protesters as you can see — but with all of his people that we can’t see.
  • NYC, 02 June 2020 captured for @nytimes Thanks @whitney_rich and @andrewhinderaker for your support. Stay organised. #blacklivesmatter

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