New York
In early December 2024, work called me to Atlanta, Georgia. With a layover in New York, I seized the chance to extend my stay for a few nights, immersing myself in the electric energy of New York City.
Armed with nothing but my trusty Hasselblad 500cm, an 80mm lens, and a handful of film rolls, I ventured into the city's vibrant chaos. My gear may have been minimal, but therein lay the challenge—and the beauty. By imposing limits on equipment, you strip away distractions and push the boundaries of your creativity. It’s a philosophy that transforms constraints into opportunities, and for me, it turned the sprawling metropolis into a playground for my imagination.
Pushing Tri-X (ISO 400) to 1600 while using a red filter (which absorbs two stops of light) means letting very little light reach the roll of film. The payoff? A strikingly high-contrast image with pronounced grain that adds depth and character. Mood: guaranteed.
Visiting New York for the first time was nothing short of an eye-opener. The city pulses with life, energy, and wealth—a true testament to ambition and opportunity. At every turn, there’s something fascinating or exciting to discover, and the people are incredibly motivated, working tirelessly—even if often just for tips.
Yet, beneath the glittering skyline lies a stark and sobering reality. To me, New York also felt like a prison, a city bound by a relentless system of growth and wealth accumulation. It’s a world of “Up or Out,” where failure has no place and the pace is unforgiving. The stark contrast becomes painfully clear in the number of lost souls and homeless individuals roaming the streets—a haunting reminder of the dark side of this culture. The energy that fuels the city’s drive also underscores its harsh inequalities, leaving an impression that’s both inspiring and unsettling.
The pinnacle of my growing disdain for this über-capitalistic way of life came during my visit to Rockefeller Center. Recommended by a friend, I begrudgingly took the (absurdly overpriced) elevator ride to the top for a panoramic view of the New York skyline. But before stepping into the elevator, I was subjected to a painfully cringeworthy propaganda video detailing the "heroic" history of John D. Rockefeller. The video painted him as a benevolent figure who transformed countless lives by providing jobs and opportunities—a glaringly one-sided portrayal designed to glorify his legacy.
This experience was not isolated; throughout my visit to the U.S., I was struck by the sheer amount of blatant propaganda woven into everyday experiences. From corporate messaging to curated historical narratives, the relentless consumption of this polished version of reality felt suffocating. It was a sharp reminder of how deeply ingrained this culture of image crafting and wealth idolization is in the American psyche.
Despite my critique of Rockefeller Center, it offered me an unexpected and priceless opportunity for introspection. Standing amidst the millions of glittering window lights stretching endlessly across the skyline, I found myself immersed in thought. Each light represented a single human being, a unique and deeply personal story—a mosaic of lives intertwined within the vast expanse of the city.
While the view reminded me of how small we all are in the grand scheme of things, it also illuminated the incredible achievements we can accomplish when we come together. It was a humbling yet uplifting moment, a stark contrast to my earlier cynicism.
This last philosophical intermezzo infused me with renewed energy to dive deeper into the city. The mist and rain felt like a fitting backdrop, inspiring me to revisit the Brooklyn Bridge. It didn’t disappoint—its grandeur amplified by the atmospheric weather, creating the perfect conditions for photography. (Film used: Cinestill 800T.)
Among the shots I captured, my personal favourite stands out: a close-up of the Manhattan Bridge, its massive steel foot barely discernible through the veil of night.
This is undoubtedly my favourite shot of the trip, so much so that I couldn’t resist getting it framed. The scene unfolded as I walked out of the MoMA—a dozen birds perched atop a lamppost, their presence instantly catching my attention. It felt like a lively social gathering, with birds flitting in and out after brief interactions.
I waited patiently, hoping to capture the perfect moment of a bird in flight. Instead, I was rewarded with something even more extraordinary: four birds landing simultaneously, their synchronized movement creating the illusion of a scientific study of a bird’s flight pattern.
Ilford FP4+ (pushed 2 stops)
Obviously, you can’t go to New York without visiting Wall Street…
Soho - Kodak Gold
Big Apple, shot from Queensboro Bridge
Empire State Building - Portra 800
typically New York (Brooklyn Bridge)
Queensboro Bridge
Savannah, Georgia (USA)
Strangely enough, my favourite part of the USA wasn’t New York—it was Georgia. Perhaps it was the weather, but there was something about Georgia that felt far more quintessentially American to me. The wide-open roads, the slower pace, and the Southern charm all contributed to the atmosphere.
Of course, renting a muscle car for the journey added an extra layer of excitement and creative inspiration. The roar of the engine and the freedom of the open road made every mile feel like a scene from a classic American road trip. It was an experience that stayed with me long after I left.
