Anyway, we left because our stomachs were yearning for some pizza. My friend Mike was with us and told us about this one place we had to try. His mom is from Staten Island, and they always would go to Denino’s when they would meet on the island for big family gatherings. I have to say, Matt and I were mighty impressed. The pizza was definitely a different style than your traditional Brooklyn pie, but it was incredibly tasty.

After grabbing dinner, we thought it might be a good idea to grab a shot or two, given that the sky looked pretty nice that night, and we both had our cameras and tripods from shooting the show. We drove down Port Richardson Avenue to the water and came across the Philip T. Feeney Tugboat. It’s a great little scene down there with really interesting and beautiful light, both in the day and at night.

In between, it was all party.  

Throngs of people all dressed in orange and in high spirits filled the back three cars.  There were people playing bongos, people giving stump speeches, shouting, singing, and even a vuvuzela concerto, with the musical pieces including, “V will Rock You” and “V didn’t Start the Fire,” among others.  The NYPD must have been alerted to the party beforehand because there were about 20 officers chaperoning the trip, but they were in great spirits as well and were smiling and enjoying themselves when their high-up boss (who was also on the train) wasn’t looking.  So with all of this, there was no way that For the Love of Brooklyn could have missed this!

Waiting for the final train to arrive on the Lower East Side; the final empty train about to be filled with revelers!

The Motorman for the Last (V) Train Ever reflects and poses for the camera.

Vuvuzuelas? On a train?! Loud!!

It’s not a party unless you’re hanging from the ceiling! Getting crazy as we approach the final countdown…

MTA SAFARI. Mission: Find the last known (V) train in existence.

How cool is that MTA costume?

Smiles abound as the train approaches the end of its journey.

We’ve arrived at Forest Hills!!!

Last night there was a beautiful full moon in a near cloudless sky. On nights like that, the photos almost come out a bit alien, or movie-set-like. The deep blues of the sky become almost enchanting and the strong light from the full moon and street lamps create some beautiful shadows.

The neighborhoods are generally still active, but everything is so much emptier later at night. Brooklyn, for the most part, goes to sleep and the scenes sit there patiently awaiting the next day. It’s my favorite time to take photos. There is something about and empty Brooklyn scene that I find so captivating. I don’t know why I do, and hopefully never will; it’s one of the feelings that’s better without an explanation

In almost everywhere you turn, every scene you examine, there seems to be a story. The light, the object, and the character are trying to tell the viewer a history of location, a character of place. Welcome back spring, and welcome back long photo bike rides.

For the Love of Brooklyn: How did you first get into photography and what is it about the art that drives you?

Ray Ciborowski: When I was a little boy, I had one of those long thin cameras with the film cartridge that’s rolled at both ends. I used to take it on school trips to the museum or the zoo so I could show my mom where I went. I loved the sound it made after you took a picture and you had to wind the film for the next shot. I remember I was always playing with little gadgets that made some sort of sound. When I was maybe 17, my grandmother gave me her old Olympus and I started shooting random things, trying different films. I had no idea what I was doing. Then, in my early 20′s, I bought my first Minolta a few weeks before my very first trip abroad. I basically learned as I went.

Photography can be so different based on the person behind the lens. For me it’s always been about documenting and reinterpreting what already exists. I don’t create much in my photographs. I prefer not to stage anything, but instead, I simply wish to preserve my scenes in silent moments, hopefully with a somewhat original perspective. Be it the elaborate or the most mundane of subjects, I try to give the subject the attention I feel it deserves, just as a portrait photographer might give to another person.

I love looking at other people’s pictures too. I find so much inspiration that way to continue shooting, realizing that there’s always more out there to see and capture.

LoB: You’ve traveled all over the world and captured a variety of places in such interesting ways; as a native Brooklynite, how has growing up in Brooklyn shaped the way you look at the world?

RC: Growing up in Brooklyn in the 70′s & 80′s, I, like most people, thought I was in the best place in the world. Of course, the fact that I was right! Brooklyn was, and is magnificent. It has always been exciting to me. My early version, filled with playing in open hydrants, stickball, and carrying excessively large radios down the street, is perhaps a bit different from the more recent developments in Williamsburg or Greenpoint.

The diversity here certainly added to a sense of wonderment about foreign peoples and places when I was young. I grew up in a large apartment complex and played with lots of kids from the building. Everyone had really different backgrounds that seemed to disappear while we played. Even more than that however, it was my grandmother’s World Book encyclopedias that piqued my interest the most. I used to visit her house frequently and I always found myself sitting on her porch with one of those books in my hand. I enjoyed reading about countries the most, and I remember particularly liking all of the different flags.

When I was in my very early 20’s, I began studying art history and going to lots of museums including the Brooklyn Museum. It all somehow fit together. I would start traveling to look at art, learn new places and meet new people. All with camera in hand.

LoB: You’ve mentioned that you tend to take photos everywhere but Brooklyn, and that when you do shoot in Brooklyn it’s a bit of a different experience. Can you elaborate on that?

RC: Well I love Brooklyn to the core. My whole life has been spent here. When I first got into photography I used to only shoot when I went somewhere. It was about documenting an unfamiliar place and bringing visual memories back. Nothing unique with that philosophy. When I started traveling frequently, I’d always look forward to the pictures I’d get and I’d dread the ones I’d miss. I just began associating photography with being somewhere else as opposed to being at home. To this day, I’ve stuck to that general premise with most of my stuff.

I know Brooklyn well. It is inherently part of who I am and for better or worse, my desire to photograph it has been strangely absent. The streets, the people, that intangible vibe that all NY natives have about this great borough and city…I think my emotional involvement with Brooklyn may not translate as well behind my lens. I guess I’d just rather FEEL it than shoot it. I hope that makes some semblance of sense. Maybe I’m thinking too much about the process. Maybe it’s just that I’m too busy exploring other places. Perhaps I’m not confident enough to capture it with the love it deserves. Realistically, there’s truth in all of those statements. Everyone has their quirks. This is just one of mine I guess.

I do have work from Brooklyn though. Some beach fragments from Coney Island, a graffiti segment from Red Hook, and of course some of Brooklyn’s abandoned places.

LoB: One of the major themes in your photography is the documentation of abandoned locations. What first drew you to that form of exploration and photography, and what guides your research when you look for these types of places?

RC: It came upon me all of a sudden, when I was certainly not looking for it. I was researching an overseas trip when I stumbled upon a picture from the old abandoned Airport in Flushing Queens. It was a magnificent shot… a bright red, graffiti-covered fuel truck half-submerged in water. It was captivating, but I thought, there’s no airport in Flushing. After doing some searching on the internet, I come to find that there was an airport there that now sits abandoned, fenced off where no one would ever know. I went exploring there the very next day. I felt like I had found something no one else knew about. Old hangers, a flooded runway, and the red fuel truck peering her headlights out above the water. (This location has since been razed). I was hooked.

There are so many types of abandonment out there, especially here in the Northeast. All easy striking distance from a Brooklyn base. Industrial, institutional and educational sites are the most common. Here in Brooklyn, the Grain Elevator down in Red Hook resonates pretty strongly with me. My dad & I used to drive past it when I was a little kid, and I always wondered what was inside. Coincidentally, it was abandoned just about the same time I was born. It’s been a few years now since I’ve shot the building from the inside. It was certainly worth the wait.

As far as research goes, there are dozens of ways to start finding places that have been abandoned, but for the most part, let’s just say you have to love looking at maps. Aerial view, bird’s eye, street view, all on Google maps, must become your best friends.

LoB: With your Urban Exploration photos, you manage to capture the beauty of decay within the spaces you visit. The viewer can see a strong consistency in the way you take these photos and they always show a great respect for the place and bring out their hidden greatness. What goes through your head as you take these photos and what kind of connection do you feel to the locations?

RC: I’ve always loved the solitary, places where I can hear the silence. I enjoy looking at things optimistically, seeing the possibilities in the empty rather than in the full. This ties into urban exploration quite nicely. Most people view decay as some form of death. I see it as rebirth. An organic transformation back to the beginning, before man was involved.

Being on site can be surreal, when you turn a corner and you’re blown away by a striking scene. You start to envision the time when people used to work and live in these spaces. You imagine their lives and what these places must’ve meant to them. History is a huge piece of the puzzle. It’s a respectful time, but in the end, you’re there to shoot photos so you must absorb it all and then get to work, never forgetting the explorer’s motto… Take only photographs, leave only footprints.

The changing textures, rusting steel, and peeling paint make these places interesting. Discovering a piece of history, frozen in time for years, even decades, makes them emotional, but it is the loneliness, the sadness, and quiet desolation that make them beautiful. In this stillness, the poetry of steel & concrete is written.

LoB: You recently took and incredible six month trip around the world where you visited 10 countries and 80 cities. What was that experience like, and what is the craziest story from the trip?

RC: We spent some time in Myanmar, and decided to trek around the northwestern section closest to Bangladesh. Myanmar currently gets less than 3,000 American visitors the entire year, and even less in that particular province. We were drawn by the lure of an ancient city of over 80 ruined temples hidden amongst rivers and islands. The city known as Mrauk-U. There is no airport there so we flew as close as we could, then needed to take a 7 hour ferry ride to get to our destination. Most tourists rent a private boat to get there. That’s a bit too easy for me. I’m interested in a more organic experience, so we took the local ferry with the local people. It was an unforgettable experience, chickens, cows, and goats all making the trip with us. The locals were packed in like sardines and seating was wherever you could find a spot on the floorboards. A medicine man was selling concoctions of local herbs on a megaphone, and food vendors at each stop bring on board fried fish, coconut patties and crickets on a stick. My girlfriend starts knitting and the local women gather round her like bees and honey, one elderly woman resting her arms right across my girlfriend’s lap. She knit little bracelets for many of the babies on board and the moms all smiled from ear to ear. They accepted us like family and told us stories in a language we couldn’t possibly understand. They literally talked to us for 7 hours, gave us food, and they loved to come over and touch us. Our white American faces so strange and unknown to them. They were such lovely people. There’s such a heated debate as to whether visitors should go to Myanmar in the sense that your monies may indirectly fuel a corrupt government to further oppress their people. But seeing how much it meant to them to interact with us gave us our answer and justified our visit. It was in such a remote area. It truly was the furthest I’d ever been from home. Perhaps not the ‘craziest’ story, but one I am particularly fond of.

The whole experience was liberating! Buying a one-way ticket. Quitting my job, one that I loved. Life is so different once you realize personal time is more valuable than any money you could ever earn. It’s the only thing that matters.

If you know any great place to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, let us know in the comments. Also, please add your photos of the festivities to the flickr pool and we’ll post them here on the blog later this week.

I had been so wrapped up in thinking about where to go, that I forgot about the beauty of the scene sitting right in front of me. I grabbed the film camera, adjusted the settings, and took a shot.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Check out the interview below and more of his work on his Flickr stream!

For the Love of Brooklyn: What is the story you try to tell with your photography?
Peter Puleo: The original story I was trying to tell behind my photography began as a documentary project of my forgotten community living in the shadow of the greatest city in the world. That genre of shooting, I believe, has remained evident in my work as I always try to capture the lost moments and emotions of the city — particularly the “outer” borough communities – usually at night, and particularly in inclement weather. Another story one may pick up on is more historical as I try to blend the past into the present day through similarities in lifestyles and social habits/customs. Eventually joining the internet community, I became exposed to many new and fascinating styles and concepts of photography. It always blows my mind how many people show such original talent to what for so long was ignorantly considered the easiest of all arts. There are many amazing and talented individuals displaying their work not only on Flickr but also on so many blogs and internet forums too. It is truly a learning experience of which I have become a perpetual student.

LoB: As a native Brooklynite/New Yorker, how does your view behind the lens change as you move between boroughs?
PP: My view behind the camera lens does not change anywhere I go. As much as I love Brooklyn, if I find something, I believe worth showing to the world outside of Brooklyn, I will photograph it. I believe Brooklyn has definitely had a huge effect on my approach to photography and especially people because I try not to be judgmental of anyone I photograph and always try in some way to create a dignity in all my shots, whether it is a sad lost pride or a stoic individual. I have had conversations with virtually all the folks I have shot and for a few, I know their life stories, which I try to bring out as much as possible in only one or two shots.

LoB: If each borough of New York City was a different kind of camera format, what would Brooklyn be and why?
PP: This is a question that requires a lot of thought. Here at this time I am going to say Large Format because these cameras are still the very much used by the photo industry in the professional areas of Fashion and Landscape photography. Brooklyn as a landscape is a cornucopia of the world transplanted to a small corner of Long Island and part of the greatest city in the world. In this landscape you can see a microcosm of America and also very much in evident is the best and worst of what our society has to offer; it makes it a truly unique place. From a fashion standpoint, Brooklyn is a voyeur’s paradise and probably one of the best people-watching places in the world. Fashion cannot happen without people and if there is one thing that has always been Brooklyn’s greatest export, it has been our people. We definitely march to our own tune.

LoB: You primarily have been shooting film, but have been known to use digital on occasion.  How does your photography change when you’re using one or the other?
PP: Film was the format I was introduced to from a young age when I was given a Polaroid Spirit600 on my 5th birthday — probably my favorite camera at that young age.  By the time I was a teenager, I spent a lot of time with a Ricoh point-and-shoot and then got my first digital camera at age 19 – the Canon SD500 Elph. I spent a lot of time with that camera until I started taking film photography courses in college and started using my dad’s Minolta SRT201 and Pentax K1000 – a camera I still use quite frequently.

Using film keeps me grounded to the basic fundamentals of photography being a fine art; I find that if you do not get to see the finished product of what you are shooting immediately, it will make you more critical and picky of your art and quite possibly create a unique style of what you shoot. I find that when I shoot film, my pictures speak more on their own because I invested more passion and thought into taking that one shot, knowing there cannot always be a do-over. On a more opinionated point of view, I love the technicolor quality of many films, particularly low-speed slide film. Many of my more recent film pictures posted on Flickr were shot with 100 speed Fuji Velvia and I try to expose the differences in my photostream between that and the digital and cell phone pictures I occasionally post.

LoB: You probably know Brooklyn better than anyone in the world (at least anyone under 30).  How did you gain the knowledge and would you ever consider giving walking tours?
PP: WOW! That is quite a compliment. I would not say I know Brooklyn better than anyone, even in my mid-20s age group. There is relatively small but very dedicated group of all-ages Newyorkophiles, one might call us. Brooklyn was basically introduced to me as a very young kid by a couple of factors. First and foremost, my paternal grandmother, a Bushwick native, bestowed quite a bit of borough pride on me. Her dignity in not fleeing the neighborhood like so many of her neighbors was very admirable to me as a kid. My father came of age amidst quite a bit of different worlds in what was a very tumultuous 1960s Brooklyn and the characters who were his friends and their stories left an undeniable impact on my life.

Another major factor would be the Canarsie neighborhood in which I grew up during the 1990s and 2000s. Without a doubt, it is a sociologist’s dream – the community was an amazing mix of old bourgeois Brooklyn families, established German and Italian Americans, a large displaced Jewish community fleeing neighboring Brownsville beginning in the 60s, and rapidly growing Caribbean and Asian immigration populations beginning in the late 1980s. This environment lent the neighborhood quite an old-fashioned working class cosmopolitan flair not really found in the city in such recent history. The history behind that world started emerging with all the amazing artifacts I started finding by strolling through my own neighborhood as a young teen. And many fascinating stories from a very large number of old-timers living around me who came from all over Brooklyn, America and the World only made me hungry for information. It has become a very serious affair since then.

Many times I have mulled over the possibility of conducting walking tours here in Brooklyn and actually on occasion I have had the pleasure of assisting my friend Adam Schwartz, a very well-known and respected historian and school teacher right here in Brooklyn! His page on Flickr is http://www.flickr.com/photos/11290907@N03/

Will I conduct tours in the future is a question I honestly have not answered myself. I do not think I can go at it alone because I wouldn’t know where to begin as there is so much out there. But if anyone out there is ever interested in pursuit of this endeavor, feel free to contact me. [Ed. note: Hints might be dropping all over. Tell us here where you want the next tour and walk to happen!]

LoB: An extra one for fun: What is the best subway line, and best model train?
PP: This is a tough one for me, haha. Growing up, my father used to have off on Wednesdays and Sundays and around the age of 5-7, every Wednesday after school we would take a random trip on a different subway route here in Brooklyn (LIRR too). One of my favorite trips was taking the (D) train to Coney Island (It used to be called the Brighton local). However, being from Canarsie, the (L) would be my train. If I had to pick a subway line as the best in the whole city, then it would be between the (A) and (J). The (A) traverses the city from the top of Manhattan to the seaside peninsula – a fabulous ride indeed but it only passes through Brooklyn and underground at that. The (J) and (L), on the other hand, only make 5 stops in Manhattan and spend the bulk of their run on the old BMT lines. The (J) is all elevated in Brooklyn and is a wonderful throwback to the days of the massive elevated transit empires of the New York of yore.

The subway train models that were my favorites were recently retired last year and they were the ambitious Slant R40 and the classic R38.

Thanks so much to Peter for the fantastic interview and have a great weekend!

Gowanus itself was at its most peaceful. When the wind gusts weren’t blowing, it was so quiet you could hear the sound of the snow hitting the canal.

DUMBO and the bridges were the next destination. Riding through Cadman Park is always nice. There is never any traffic because of the Supreme Court and the park itself is beautiful. In the snow, all of this area’s great qualities are magnified and the park felt more like a forest out of a fairytale than a park in New York City.

Riding on the Brooklyn Bridge near midnight in the snow is an incredible Brooklyn experience. You are completely alone on the bridge and you feel like the entire structure is yours. It’s not terribly cold either.

Here are a few more photos from the night, and if you still want more, check out my Flickr page:

When I think of places I love to shoot in Brooklyn, one of the first areas that comes to mind is Gowanus. Gowanus used to be a major point of industry for Brooklyn thanks to its canal, but now the majority of that industry has left. With the flight of the industry, the area was left decrepit. In addition, the high levels of pollution have led this area to acquire the Superfund designation. There has been some rebirth in the area over the past few years. More and more artists studios are popping up, and more businesses are moving in. There is even a great concert venue right by the Carroll St Bridge that holds shows in the summer. All of this adds up to a very interesting place that is a pleasure to photograph. If you haven’t done so already, take a trip down to the Gowanus canal and bring your camera, you won’t be disappointed. This first picture here was a big one for me personally; it has had significant influence on subsequent photos I’ve taken. It was taken on the first night I took photos in Gowanus.

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Scenes from a Coney Island Thursday night. Since neither Matt nor I have been shooting in Brooklyn at night recently, we decided to take a drive to Coney Island. We really underestimated the wind. It was about 20 degrees out, but close to zero with windchill. We didn’t last long in that weather (mainly on account of the sand flying into, and getting stuck in the cracks of the lenses and camera gear), but a few photos were snagged before mother nature got the better of us.