By Cheryl Dunn
Just as long as I have been searching for meaningful compositions and striking light on the streets of NY, I have been searching my archive to find that special shot I took 15, 20 years ago or even yesterday. I organize imagery using descriptive words, dates, names and location. For instance, I'll search " BROADWAY" or " BIRD " or "CROSSWALK". The groupings that emerge are always fascinating to me, the random connective threads sometimes disparate, tell a story a new story. These stories are about how we move within a cityscape, communicate, love, fight, dance and survive. The streets are like a canvas where a piece of wood in a trash can becomes a beautiful sculpture, where the rooftops are a spiritual respite from the streets — yet still part of the same pulse, the same club. The way we move through public space — walking, dancing, skating, or even fighting — has a distinct rhythm, a pace that belongs distinctly to NYC. This is THE WHILES NYC. -Cheryl Dunn
By Cheryl Dunn
Just as long as I have been searching for meaningful compositions and striking light on the streets of NY, I have been searching my archive to find that special shot I took 15, 20 years ago or even yesterday. I organize imagery using descriptive words, dates, names and location. For instance, I'll search " BROADWAY" or " BIRD " or "CROSSWALK". The groupings that emerge are always fascinating to me, the random connective threads sometimes disparate, tell a story a new story. These stories are about how we move within a cityscape, communicate, love, fight, dance and survive. The streets are like a canvas where a piece of wood in a trash can becomes a beautiful sculpture, where the rooftops are a spiritual respite from the streets — yet still part of the same pulse, the same club. The way we move through public space — walking, dancing, skating, or even fighting — has a distinct rhythm, a pace that belongs distinctly to NYC. This is THE WHILES NYC. -Cheryl Dunn
