There isn’t much of a dividing line between the industrial sites and the residential areas of Greenpoint in Brooklyn. If you look one way down the street you’ll see an unbroken line of houses with front yards and well-used stoops, decorated windows, and planted sidewalk beds; and if you look the other way, you’ll see low buildings with aluminum signs, loading docks and huge trucks moving to and fro, and just beyond them, Newtown Creek with its oil refineries, factories, and barges. This is an image of one of the few transitional sites I found--certainly not residential, but also not completely industrial, and marked by a sense of neglect and overgrowth, and by the poignant string of prayer flags adorning the falling-down gate. Of course I was drawn to the light that somehow made this liminal space glow, but also to the fact that without it I might not have noticed this interstitial place at all.
To learn more about this work, and the oil spill that occurred in the area please visit Jessica M. Kaufman's
About the photographic process
A positive/negative film (Polaroid Type 55) is used: a film with an actual negative in it. The chemical is not cleared from the negative, but left to dry, where it patterns, develops crystals, and eats away at the original image - basically decaying, and then printed in that state. This process removes the viewer's ability to immediately place the image in time: it is disorienting and announces that the work is subjective, conceptual and certainly not documentary.