I wouldn’t say I ever really “got serious” about taking pictures, but I even when I started to invest more time in my photography, I never became entirely comfortable taking pictures of random people on the street. As I mentioned in this post, I was either too shy or too concerned with possibly offending my would-be subjects. As a result, most of my photographs from the early `90s and forward come largely bereft of any people (or, if they’re in them, they’re incidental window-dressing). There were some exceptions, but as riotously gregarious as I’m capable of being, I just never got used to walking up to complete strangers (like, say, Steve Birnbaum at Band of Shirts does) and snapping their picture.
In retrospect, that’s probably one of the reasons why I take so many pictures of my kids around town. I mean, obviously, I love my children indescribably and cherish every little nuance they bring to a photograph (especially in that there’s two of them — one of them is almost always engaging in some sort of action while the other poses, which adds a nice, unpredictable dynamic). But once I had this — for lack of a better term — “captive” pair of subjects, I could finally inject my pictures with a bit more personality and resonance.
Anyway, the only reason I’m bringing any of this up again, is because of re-discoverng the photographs of Michael Cinque. I can’t remember when I first encountered his work (although it looks like I’ve sung his praises on this blog in as far aback as 2011), but I stumbled upon some more of his images on my Flickr Favorites page, which led me, in turn, back to his official site, and a collection called Total Strangers.
Total Strangers is essentially a selection of portraits Cinque shot on the streets of Manhattan during the mid-`80s. Here’s how the photographer himself describes it:
Taken between 1986 and 1989, portraits of randomly selected strangers that I encountered while walking in New York City. The people in these pictures are shown in public, but in unguarded, intimate moments. Upon approaching them I would simply ask if I could take their portrait. Most people graciously agreed to be photographed and the whole process usually took 5 to 10 minutes per portrait.
See, I could never do that.
Anyway, I was initially struck by the photo of his below. At first, I thought it was someone I knew, but I think I was just projecting. She certainly struck me as someone I might have known — or would like to have known, given the fact that she’s depicted sporting a slightly oversized black leather jacket with pins extolling the merits of Bauhaus and “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2.” At first, I thought she was wearing a shirt from Jerry’s, that old cafe on Prince Street, but the logo’s, alas, do not match up. It’s such a simple photo, but filled with so much information, despite the subject’s somewhat impenetrable gaze.
I wonder if Cinque stayed in touch with his subjects, or if any the individuals in his photographs ended up seeing their own portraits. I wonder where these people are today.
Check out Cinque’s Total Strangers by clicking right here. And for a nice spin on the idea, check out this link as well.
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