I had studio jobs lined up in Boston, but they fell through. I was left to roam the streets, and this is what I found.
The narrow streets are perfect for cutting light and are even better corridors for fog. It rained and snowed most of the days that I was there, but I photographed anyway. Umbrellas walked by, dribbling water onto manicured sidewalks.
The shops around Beacon Hill glow with neon signs and large picture windows provide reflections. They fed my lens with color and symmetry.
The people were sweet compared to a place like New York and every age group is here. The buildings here feel huge, diverse, and full of character. Curling art deco, brutalist concrete and old churches fueled me. It was exciting.
I spent a lot of my time in the Grand Central Library pouring over M.C. Escher books. The man was a graphic genius to say the least and his art books appropriately resided in the modern wing of the library, in red books shelves with graphic carpets and lighting.
John Singer Sargent, who made a series of panel murals of blood red biblical imagery in the library once told his students to: “cultivate an ever-continuous power of observation.” Big cities at first feel chaotic, like they are ready to burst at the seams. Over time, walking with a camera and shooting the street, it becomes ordered and predictable like a clock. Watching the elements of a city play with each other is the joy of shooting street.