WILLIAMSBURG

WILLIAMSBURG

“Hasidic Jewish community

Williamsburg is inhabited by tens of thousands of Hasidic Jews of various sects, and contains the headquarters of one faction of the Satmar Hasidic group, Williamsburg’s Satmar population numbers about 73,000.

Hasidic Jews first moved to the neighborhood in the years prior to World War II, along with many other religious and non-religious Jews who sought to escape the difficult living conditions on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Beginning in the late 1940s and early 1950s, the area received a large concentration of Holocaust survivors, many of whom were Hasidic Jews from rural areas of Hungary and Romania. These people were led by several Hasidic leaders, among them the rebbes of Satmar, Klausenberg, Vien, Pupa, Tzehlem, and Skver. In addition, Williamsburg contained sizable numbers of religious, but non-Hasidic Jews. The rebbe of Satmar, Rabbi Joel Teitelbaum, ultimately exerted the most powerful influence over the community, causing many of the non-Satmars, especially the non-Hasidim, to leave. Teitelbaum was known for his fierce anti-Zionism and for his charismatic but abrasive style of leadership.

In 1997 there were about 7,000 Hasid families in Williamsburg. About 33% took public assistance. The Hasidic community of Williamsburg has one of the highest birthrates in the country, with an average of eight children per family. Each year the community celebrates between 800 and 900 weddings for young couples, who typically marry between the ages of 18 and 21. Because Hasidic men receive little secular education, and women tend to be homemakers, college degrees are rare, and economic opportunities lag far behind the rest of the population. In response to the almost 60% poverty rate in Jewish Williamsburg, the Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty, a beneficiary agency of the UJA-Federation of New York, partnered with Masbia in the opening of a 50-seat kosher soup kitchen on Lee Avenue in November 2009.

In recent years, with the gentrification of North Williamsburg, Hasidim have fought to retain the character of their neighborhood and have characterized the influx of what they call the artisten as a “plague” and “a bitter decree from Heaven.” Tensions have risen over housing costs, loud and boisterous nightlife events, and the introduction of bike lanes along Bedford Avenue.”

WIKIPEDIA

SABINA ALTERNATE TAKES 1.0

SABINA ALTERNATE TAKES 1.0

Here are the alternate takes from Sabina’s pictures. I hope you like them.

NOTE: These pictures have not been retouched at all. Everything is organic, not adulterated, free of additives, absolutely NoN GMO. Just beauty, professionalism and good light. Our products are the result of a combination of circumstances that are only possible in a company that treat the models and the rest of the team with all the love and respect. We think the human factor is strictly necessary to produce the best of the best pictures.

 

– The making of these images was possible thanks to: Carolina Restrepo (MUA, hair stylist and wardrobe stylist)

SABINA

SABINA

It’s funny, the further I go into the field of photography, the more one would think I should get burnt out. That is usually the case in any profession. It’s not so much that you stop enjoying what you do, but that you become obsessed with the final product, and forget the joy of the process. Very quickly, play turns into work.

At this juncture, after many years in the world of photography, I feel quite the opposite. I think this is because I have developed my work bit by bit, slowly. This has brought about its doubts and its fears, but it has also opened my mind to enjoying a variety of simple things, and what is more important, to keep alive the passion, the child.

This is even more so when I photograph people. Most frequently, fashion shoots have an intrinsic feel of distance and coldness: time is short, new faces every day, the rhythm is overwhelming… Just the opposite of what a portrait shoot should be. But for me, I cannot avoid being most interested in the essence behind the surface. This is really what motivates me most about my work: to be able to extract a sense of intimacy from people I have just met.

I suppose most us portrait photographers start with a natural interest in our subjects, models are not to be less. In time, however, the loss of enjoyment for the process and the excessive focus on the final product renders the photographs devoid of human warmth, albeit technically excellent. Portraiture is neither a reflection of the photographer nor of the subject, but a reflection of the relationship between the two. If that relationship is contaminated, the portrait will become contaminated. If there is a connection, a subtle perception, the portrait will acquire a sudden depth. Still, despite all this, and despite their best efforts, there will always be an uncontrollable trace of both the photographer and the model in the image.

This notion informs my work, and I strive to honor it in every session.

The session with Sabina was quiet, effortless, and intuitive. Her work as a model is obviously excellent, but there is also a tranquil gentleness about her presence that is as pleasant as these pictures are.

 

Sabina, Caro, Thanks for your hard work.

 

 

– The making of these images was possible thanks to: Carolina Restrepo (MUA, hair stylist and wardrobe stylist)

120 SECONDS

120 SECONDS

I was at a concert in a bar, and they had one of those old photobooths. I was thinking how cool and beautiful it was when this couple went inside. I took a couple of pictures and I decided to make an animated GIF . I sent it to my friend and writer Julio Teruel who wrote this story based in that GIF.

 

photobooth

 

TRANSLATED STORY

“We wanted to hold on to the beginning, when everything was new and dirty, when everything was touched and licked, when we could do with any light and any shelter. We wanted to stop the seconds, immortalize the minutes, jam the needles of all the clocks that did not exist. In that beginning everything was a leftover, everything was worth it.

With such few letters and such little ink we wrote novels on ephemeral walls, because we could not be trapped in cubicles of metallic floors. We drank beer and we changed our names: yours, Lolita, mine, whatever you wanted. Without speakers the music deafened us, we got blinded by white lights coming from no sun, we covered our hands without gloves, or with tattoos or nail polish, or else,… with your hands intertwined with mine.

And so we LASTED…

Until you made a feint at walking away, leave that empire without borders. Into the darkness, where the rest exists. Into absolute nothingness, when we were everything.

And in that way, half with me, half without me, the camera began shooting and I ended up looking blurry and confused, and you… you kissed me as you were leaving. In the cheap photos your face stuck out perfect, and mine mutated into the abominable, because I became obsessed with getting you trapped a little while longer, just a little, the while that the minutes, the seconds and the needles we cannot apprehend, gave us. In the last picture I am the protagonist, you are missing. That’s why it’s the first the picture, the only one that I have hanging on a wall that is white, immaculate, where there are no traces of ink. Just you, and the memory of a night when in there I discovered the meaning of loss. How stupid, I never even had you. You were the one that invaded a space that was whatever, and transformed it into something.

What was your name? Why did you get in there with me?

Who owned the half-drunk beer that was witness to the absurdity of spontaneity and of the destruction it causes when consequences aren’t those I dared to imagine in that gifted sigh? My purpose was to take some pictures of myself, and you decided to join the portraits, like a jam stain that just won’t wash off. But you left, and with the last pop of the flash, the beginning was over, and everything remained dirty, but it was no longer new.”

 

ORIGINAL STORY:

“Quisimos retener el principio, cuando todo era nuevo y sucio, cuando todo se tocaba y se lamía, cuando nos valía cualquier luz y cualquier cobijo. Quisimos detener los segundos, inmortalizar los minutos, atorar las agujas de todos los relojes, que no existían. En ese comienzo todo nos sobraba, todo nos valía. Con tan pocas letras y tan pocas tintas escribíamos novelas en paredes efímeras, porque no nos podían encerrar en cubículos de suelos de metal. Bebíamos cerveza y nos cambiábamos el nombre, tú Lolita, yo lo que quisieras. Sin altavoces nos atronaba la música, sin sol nos cegaban luces blancas, sin guantes cubríamos nuestras manos, o con tatuajes o con pintauñas, o si no, con tus manos entrelazadas con las mías. Y así perduramos. Hasta que hiciste amago de alejarte, de salir de ese imperio sin fronteras. A la oscuridad, a donde existe el resto. A la nada más absoluta, cuando lo éramos todo. Y así, medio conmigo, medio sin mí, la cámara empezó a disparar y yo terminé saliendo movido y confuso y tú… tú me besabas mientras te ibas. En las fotos de mala calidad tu cara asomó perfecta y la mía mutó en abominable, porque me obcequé en atraparte un rato más, sólo un rato más, el que al final nos concedieron los minutos, los segundos y las agujas que no podemos apresar. En la última foto soy protagonista, no estás. Por eso es la primera la única que tengo colgada en una pared que es blanca, inmaculada, donde no existen rastros de tinta, sólo tú y el recuerdo de una noche en la que allí dentro, descubrí el significado de perderte, qué estupidez, si nunca te tuve, si fuiste tú la que invadiste un espacio que era uno cualquiera y lo transformaste. ¿Cómo te llamabas? ¿Por qué entraste conmigo? ¿De quién era la cerveza a medio beber que fue testigo del absurdo que es la espontaneidad y del destrozo que conlleva si las consecuencias nunca son las que me atreví a imaginar en ese suspiro regalado? Mi propósito era hacerme unas fotos, y tú decidiste formar parte de retratos, como si fueras una mancha de mermelada que no se va. Pero te fuiste, y con el último flash, se terminó el principio, y todo siguió sucio, pero ya no era nuevo. ”

JULIO TERUEL

 

Julio Teruel is an usual contributor to the blog. You are going to read more stories from him here as long as he is willing to collaborate. And if you are interested in his amazing and engaging stories you can follow his work on his blog (I’m sorry but it’s only written in Spanish).

ALTERNATE TAKES OF GENDER: JANELLE 4.0

ALTERNATE TAKES OF GENDER: JANELLE 4.0

Janelle as her/his own opposite: Mighty Gang Lord

NOTE: I highly recommend playing this song while looking through the photos: Gunplay – “Get Like Me” (Ft. Peryon & Quise) [Acquitted], from Edward Benjamin Britten with the Choir of Downside School, Purley. To do that, please just go back to the bold tittle of the song and click on it (a new tab will open with the song playing on Youtube), then go back here while the video is playing.

 

NOTE: These pictures have not been retouched at all. Everything is organic, not adulterated, free of additives, absolutely NoN GMO. Just beauty, professionalism and good light. Our products are the result of a combination of circumstances that are only possible in a company that treat the models and the rest of the team with all the love and respect. We think the human factor is strictly necessary to produce the best of the best pictures.

 

– The making of these images was possible thanks to: Carolina Restrepo (stylist), Janelle Jenkins (model) and Luisa Puerta (hair and make up)

Page 1 of 2112345...1020...Last »