Capturing Communities in Words and Images:

Author: Ayla

McSorley’s

I was relieved to find Mike behind the bar when I went back to McSorley’s to try and produce brighter pictures. He recognized me from my last visit and immediately introduced me to the rest of the staff on board.

I found that taking pictures in McSorley’s more challenging than in other bars.   Little had changed in McSorley’s during the past 150 years. A sound system was never installed and it seems like a wet cloth was not introduced to the premises in over a century. So while in other bars I enjoyed the loud music as some kind of a shield, in Mcsorley’s there was nothing to hide behind except for the smell of sour beer and the sound of cracking sawdust and peanut shells on the floor.

I spent about two (very awkward) hours taking pictures, and then stayed for few drinks with the boys. It only occurred to me when I left that it probably should have been the other way around.

The notion of bartending or table waiting as a career intriguers me. A job that is viewed as temporary by most is turned into a profession by others. I am curious to learn whether these Irish men are truly content with this lifestyle or were they just following where the New York circumstances lead them to.    

Next time I will stop by McSorley’s I will leave the camera at home. I find conversation much easier without the camera’s threatening presence.  

Within the Irish Community

Sometimes I wonder if the American Melting Pot is nothing but a myth. A stroll through the streets of Manhattan may be misleading. On the surface we find an overwhelming mix of different nationalities and race, but take a closer look and you’ll find that people still tend to stick to their own kind.

An immigrant myself, I am curious about how people go about making a home away from home. I will explore this concept with the help of the Irish community of New York, concentrating on the Irish bartender and pub patron.

In recent years I have been exposed to this vibrant network of Irish Bartenders. All moved to New York without their families but together they created a new one. They celebrate the holidays together, and when a friend or even a remote acquaintance is in need everyone pulls their weight. They also drink together.

Why do people move more than 3000 miles away from their home country only to recreate it their new destination? In this project I will explore not only how these individuals become each other’s family, but also their relationship with the bars they work and drink in. This will also be an opportunity to examine the stereotype of the Irishman and the love of drink from the point of view of those who choose to live their lives around the pub establishment.    

El Barrio

 

 

I arrived New York following a one year backpacking trip through South and Central America. During my first months in the Big Apple I used to visit Spanish Harlem often, re-experiencing the tastes that I missed. When this assignment was given and I was thinking about this neighborhood that I loved, I realized how quickly the New York pace has taken over me. Its been over 4 years since I’ve made my way uptown, and I found the scenery somewhat different but the soul is still the same.

Field Notes:

Sunday Mass Aftermath: Just arriving the neighborhood I noticed a group of people stepping up from the basement. Peeking inside I found this simple church with few people still there chatting. I had a chance to take a couple of photos before I was asked, not very kindly, to leave. After this unpleasant experienceI decided to take a different tactic and to make sure people are comfortable with me and my camera.

Pasando el Dia: This group of men didn’t seem to have any particular reason in lining along the sidewalk. That is how I found them, and even as we were chatting andI asked to take the picture no one bothered to change his position. I was wondering whether man sitting was a matter of hierarchy but was afraid that such a question would not go down well with my broken Spanish.   

Day Game at Shea: As a Mets fan I found it easy to approach Etol. He was standing outside a residential building, with a much elderly friend sitting on the stairs next to him. He was listening to the baseball game that took place not to far in Queens. The Mets had the lead, so that explains his joy (of course they ended up loosing the game though).

Holding Court: I found a group of men hanging out on the street, just outside a small neighborhood park. No one was in the park itself. The man photographed was the only one sitting. I asked if I could take a picture of his watch that had the Puerto Rican flag embodied in it, and that was the result.

Manuel was just about to enter the building when I stopped him and asked where did he get his hat from. He said he bought it in Puerto Rico and that I can probably find something similar around the neighborhood. I asked to take a picture of his cap. His expression in the photo surprised me, it seemed like the camera exposed something about him that I missed.