Planet Night, Brooklyn
Throughout the pandemic I have taken many pictures, in many places, after dark. The emptiness that had taken over the streets as we collectively sheltered inside bled from the day into the night. It was, at times, as if I was alone on a foreign planet.
Only when I took to my own, more familiar streets, did I come to understand that the night is actually a different place, and not simply a set of hours on the other side of the clock. Carrying a camera and a tripod, alternatively walking through the dark and standing motionless for minutes at a time, it became clear that between midnight and 3 am, a new sense of physics redefines the surroundings into something completely alien to what exists during the day.
It is a space of color and light. Cloaked in silence and solitude, the hectic city becomes contemplative and haunting. Every action is exaggerated, every sound is louder, and every light is brighter. But not everything is illuminated, and it is the contrast between blackness and vibrance that allows the shadows and lights to rework the landscape of the megapolis into a galaxy of separate worlds.
