Fame, success, even self-respect can be elusive goals for many young men and women who grow up in the inner city. But the boxing gym, as it has for decades, promises a way up for some. A way out for others. It offers young boxers a home where they can find support and community. It builds character. For some it's also the source of discipline needed to avoid the ever-present lure of gangs or drugs. During 2017 and 2018 I have spent a lot of time in the gyms of the the old mill towns north of Boston and at many of the local amateur boxing matches, including The Golden Gloves. I’ve gotten to know many of the boxers -- and the trainers committed to them -- and found them to possess an inner strength as well as a physical one. It takes both to step into the ring. To put the body through the punishment boxing demands. To make the sacrifices needed to achieve a few moments of glory. These images, part of an ongoing project, celebrate the strength and courage it takes to be a fighter.
I gravitate to the streets for the constant motion, the changing light, the geometric shapes in a city’s architecture. But more than anything I am attracted by the diversity of people. They offer a never-ending source of inspiration. When possible I try and get close enough to capture their faces, unposed, presenting a small sense of who they are, at least for that one moment. These are a few recent images, urban portraits if you will, in and around Boston and New York.
I have always been interested in creative "tribes," people who come together around a shared interest and collaborate to make something beautiful or meaningful. Around Boston, there is a huge community of young freestyle dancers. Dancers assemble as crews, choreograph original routines, dance for each other, and put on numerous performances. While dance is better suited to video, I'm trying to capture some of the energy and motion of young dancers through the shapes and lines and compositions their rehearsals and performances reveal in a still photograph.
The Skateboarder's Canvas
Having spent my entire career as an advertising writer, creative director and professor, I have always been keenly interested in individual creative expression in all of its forms across all possible media. Recently that interest led me to Lynch Skate Park to shoot the diverse community of skateboarders who gather there.
To them, skateboarding is less a sport than an outlet for their own creativity. Their canvas is the concrete surface -- ramps, platforms, deep bowls with vertical sides -- upon which they perform ollies, kickturns and axle grinds. Those become their wavy lines and splashes of color
In this body of work I strive to capture the creative expression of skateboarders, both in their appearance and performance, by emphasizing how their presence highlights the curves, shadows, angles and inclines of an urban skate park.
A selection of the images you see here were exhibited at the Griffin Museum of Photography, as part of Atelier 24, in September, 2016 as well as at the Providence Center for Photographic Arts in December, 2016.
Life in the city moves quickly. Everything is in motion. But if you stop for a moment and look around or freeze yourself, the city takes on a different feeling. You realize that there are thousands of individual “places,” millions of “moments.” Each is there for a second or two then gone. If you’re lucky or patient you might find something interesting in the light, shadows, shapes, layers, reflections and collisions that are constantly present but instantly gone. This is my attempt at recording some of that.
The light changes. The tides shift. The days pass. But the dory remains. Tethered to its mooring on the bayside of Cape Cod it looks the same but appears different every time you approach. It seemingly asks to have its picture taken. And while it refuses to cooperate with the photographer -- it points and shifts in whatever direction it chooses -- neither does it complain or become impatient as you find the perfect angle and set your focus.
When I'm in downtown Boston, I often find myself here, at the Holocaust Memorial. Some people leave a stone on the granite block that explains the memorial. Others, less aware, walk through the towers carrying Starbucks cups or shopping bags. But for me, no matter how crowded or noisy the city may be, there's a stillness here as I stop to ponder the meaning of those nine million numbers inscribed in the glass.
Right after Trump was sworn in and threatened to deport undocumented immigrants political protests broke out across the country. For many it was the first time they'd attended a rally since the days of Viet Nam. For others it was the first time they'd ever marched in the streets, held up signs of protest or shouted out their concerns and demands. In Boston, there were rallies in support of women, refugees and immigrants, the LGBTQ community and science.