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Philly Love
Classic Philly
Sunday, September 19, 2010
theme(less) two
A small collection of photo's related to each other only in that they are what my eyes are attracted to in this fabulous city. I love how if you take ten different people and drop them in one city (or even one street in one city), they will inevitably see ten totally different things. This is the essence of what makes art, and life, continually interesting.
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Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Streetball I
Growing up, we had one TV in my house, and I was only allowed to watch it for 2 hours a week. Yes, I said per week. One of those hours was on Friday night – the first hour of TGIF. You can imagine then my anger when one Friday night my father informed me that I would not be able to watch TGIF because he was going to watch the Knicks game. “You want me to miss half my weekly allotted TV time for basketball? WHAT???” With nothing else to do, I watched the game under protest. I had never actually watched a basketball game before this night. My furious sulking slowly turned to intrigue.
Thus started my love of basketball and my obsession with the Knicks. I was in sixth grade.
All these years later, the Knicks suck and I haven’t had much to cheer for, but I still heart the game. I was delighted, then, when a friend brought me to a local Philly park where daily pickup games are played. Streetball. The boys play after school, and they are replaced by the men who come after work. There is something exhilarating about watching people play this most raw version of the game, purely for the competition, the passion, the bragging rights.
This is my first foray into sports photography. Comments, as always, are appreciated.
Boy first. Men to follow.
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Thus started my love of basketball and my obsession with the Knicks. I was in sixth grade.
All these years later, the Knicks suck and I haven’t had much to cheer for, but I still heart the game. I was delighted, then, when a friend brought me to a local Philly park where daily pickup games are played. Streetball. The boys play after school, and they are replaced by the men who come after work. There is something exhilarating about watching people play this most raw version of the game, purely for the competition, the passion, the bragging rights.
This is my first foray into sports photography. Comments, as always, are appreciated.
Boy first. Men to follow.
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Thursday, September 2, 2010
South Side
My grandmother was born in South Philly. I can remember her saying this for as long as I have been alive, but it hasn’t had much meaning until now. What I have learned about South Philly is that it has always been a place where new immigrants settle. Initially, in the late 19th and early 20th century, Italians, the Irish, and the Polish populated the area. Then, Blacks emigrating from the south moved in. In the present day, you have pockets of immigrants from Vietnam, Cambodia, Russia, and Mexico, among others. It’s a pretty diverse place, although the fabric of the neighborhood is still dominated by the Italians.
I always have a touch of anxiety when I start to photograph in a new place, especially if I want to photograph people. When I walk up to folks to ask if it’s okay to shoot them, that fear of rejection, not felt since junior high, comes welling up from no-where.
That is why I was so impressed with the people of South Philly. I gotta tell you – these people were the definition of friendly. For example, when I started talking to two older men standing outside a house (ie interrupted their conversation), they were gracious enough to not only pose for me, but to tell me their story. One of them, the older of the two, had lived in the house we were standing in front of his whole life (literally). After 10 minutes he said “hold on” and slowly disappeared into the house. He emerged a few minutes later holding his purple heart from WWII. “Do you want to photograph this?” (see photos 3, 4)
Then there was the young gentleman sitting outside on a stoop. He had been eyeing me as I walked down the street taking photographs, so I knew he knew what I was going to ask him, and I also knew he had already made up his mind. “Sure, why not.” Turns out he was sitting outside his family business, a pig cooking place (I’m sure there is a more technical name for it, but it’s beyond me). He told me all about how they get the pigs, prepare them, cook them in the brick ovens, and then ship them out to local venues. He invited me to come back when his father and brother were there so I could photograph them actually preparing the pigs. Really? (see photo 6)
Finally, I approached a group of three people sitting on the concrete side walk in lawn chairs. They clearly owned the corner. I think they were more amused by me than anything. Turns out, the house they were sitting in had been in the family since the late 1800’s. They told me about an upcoming Italian festival taking place on that street in October and insisted I come back. “And it gets really crowded, but you can use our bathroom if you need to.” By the time I was finished shooting them, 3 or 4 more people from the neighborhood had gathered round – curious as to who the newcomer was. (see photos 7,8)
So now I’m proud to say – I got roots in South Philly y’all!
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I always have a touch of anxiety when I start to photograph in a new place, especially if I want to photograph people. When I walk up to folks to ask if it’s okay to shoot them, that fear of rejection, not felt since junior high, comes welling up from no-where.
That is why I was so impressed with the people of South Philly. I gotta tell you – these people were the definition of friendly. For example, when I started talking to two older men standing outside a house (ie interrupted their conversation), they were gracious enough to not only pose for me, but to tell me their story. One of them, the older of the two, had lived in the house we were standing in front of his whole life (literally). After 10 minutes he said “hold on” and slowly disappeared into the house. He emerged a few minutes later holding his purple heart from WWII. “Do you want to photograph this?” (see photos 3, 4)
Then there was the young gentleman sitting outside on a stoop. He had been eyeing me as I walked down the street taking photographs, so I knew he knew what I was going to ask him, and I also knew he had already made up his mind. “Sure, why not.” Turns out he was sitting outside his family business, a pig cooking place (I’m sure there is a more technical name for it, but it’s beyond me). He told me all about how they get the pigs, prepare them, cook them in the brick ovens, and then ship them out to local venues. He invited me to come back when his father and brother were there so I could photograph them actually preparing the pigs. Really? (see photo 6)
Finally, I approached a group of three people sitting on the concrete side walk in lawn chairs. They clearly owned the corner. I think they were more amused by me than anything. Turns out, the house they were sitting in had been in the family since the late 1800’s. They told me about an upcoming Italian festival taking place on that street in October and insisted I come back. “And it gets really crowded, but you can use our bathroom if you need to.” By the time I was finished shooting them, 3 or 4 more people from the neighborhood had gathered round – curious as to who the newcomer was. (see photos 7,8)
So now I’m proud to say – I got roots in South Philly y’all!
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