I worked as a documentary and street photographer in New York City for almost 20 years. That city, where I was born and raised, offered a landscape of rushing people, impossible traffic, and ripe emotions lain bare in the faces of people coursing the streets. I worked to reflect those raw visions of human expressivity in my street photography. My process was about documenting momentary internal reactions to the urban landscape, its architecture, atmosphere, and people.
When I moved to Tucson, Arizona four years ago, I found a very different kind of environment: 105 degrees, searing light, parched ground, and a landscape teeming with thorns, pit vipers, and the resounding vestiges of frontier mentality. I felt immediately at home.
I have long believed the term “street photography” is a misnomer, as its methods are not limited to the streets. In the Sonoran Desert, I apply similar methods and practices to desert wilderness. I respond immediately to poetic anomalies of light, shadow, and form in natural environments, which resonate with thoughts, memories, and sensations in my emotional landscape. Rather than meditate on a scene or return to a space in hopes of finding an ideal light, I make the exposure instantly and then move on. Like Henri Cartier-Bresson’s decisive moment, I seek the precise moment when composition and content reach an apex. For me, this often results in an image filled with emotional possibilities.
The following images are an excerpt from a body of work in progress.