The first assignments I got were from two sympathetic photo editors, Alice Rose George at Time Magazine and Gary Hoening at the News of the Week in Review section of The New York Times. They liked my pictures, they liked my attitude, and they knew the best way to support a young photographer was to give him or her work.
Gary called one day and asked me to provide a photo for an article about changes in the juvenile justice system, and he suggested I get in touch with the public defenders who specialized in juveniles. They in turn connected me with Bob Siegal, a guy a year younger than me who through his work with youth while he’d been a student at NYU had established himself as an informal liaison between the court system and kids in Alphabet City who’d been arrested. We spent a weekend day wandering that neighborhood, from 14th Street on the north to Houston Street on the south, along the Avenues A, B, C, and D, and up and down the projects next to the narrow East River Park. As we walked, we touched base with many families and youth that Bob worked with, and we spent time with one family in particular, trying to recreate a tragic mistake: someone had tossed a rock off the pedestrian bridge over the FDR drive and had killed a passenger in a car speeding uptown. The boy and his mom and dad were in denial, but Bob believed this boy was the rock-tosser, and he patiently walked them through all that the boy had done that afternoon. Bob was intent on getting the boy and his parents to acknowledge what had happened and to ease the impending interactions with law enforcement and juvenile hall.
I told Bob I wanted to spend time in the neighborhood taking pictures, and he was delighted. I called Gary Hoenig and told him I couldn’t do the assignment because I wanted to enter the project slowly. Most unusually for photo editors, who work under deadline to get pictures for articles, Gary was sympathetic and encouraging, and at Bob’s suggestion, I started to hang out at Duke’s Pizza Parlor, on the corner of Eleventh Street and Avenue A. It was across the street from a bodega that served a block where there were a couple of sweat equity projects underway; it was across another street from a parochial elementary school; it was half a block from a public middle school; and it was a block north of Tompkins Square Park and the Boys Club. All those populations frequented the pizza parlor, and Duke was tolerant and even supportive of my presence.
The two photos above, of members of the same family, were taken on different days on the same street corner, in front of the bodega that sat across Avenue A from Dukie’s.
I kept going back, day after day. I brought hundreds of 5x7 inch prints to give away.
I shot over a thousand rolls of film that year, between personal work and assignments for the Times. I knew that Cartier-Bresson habitually shot ten rolls a day, and so did Garry Winogrand, two photographers who photographed out in the world, like me, not in the studio, and whose work I admired tremendously. When Cartier-Bresson visited the US in the 1950s, a colleague gave him ten places to photograph in New York City. HCB reported that seven of them were a complete waste of time, two were okay, and one was terrific. I also read that when he was asked what kind of place he liked to take pictures, he answered, “Where luck hangs out.”