Went in more peaceful, for some reason. Later, more relaxed, the time of day itself more leisurely.
Met John at the Hanging tree, acknowledges me, no chess today, he's busy with a game of cards, we'll talk. Recommends that I go check out the chess players at the other corner : that's South West. The tables have boards ready-inscrusted onto their surface.
Meet Nah-Shon ("Hebrew name"), who has a set at the ready and an empty seat before the white pieces. Spent about 2h, talk, bullshitting, truthifying, but also weaving other strands, of exchange, soon interrupted with clichéd sequences in which we both play our parts, then open again, tentative, playful. Enjoyable. He too says "intelligent", that's worth it as encouragement. Also he says: "you're a photographer", having asked to see the pix. That's important.
Feeding the park's one black squirrel.
Game with a 7 year old, then with his super player brother of 11.
Nah-Shon tells me of Georgia and coming up to New York. Of 35 years playing the gem, of over 20 years in the park. Of the park's chess tradition since the 40s. Playing for money and getting income from teaching (he's lovely with the boys). Has two grown up daughters. "Nah-Shon?", "the prince, the comforter, the [prophet?], the chief ruler".
Things don't get shirked: women (God intends them to have children), and black men, whites knowing (more than blacks) the history of slavery,... The chess board is a strong presence also, with particular resonance, including in talk. Nah-Shon has a set with yellow pieces.
There are pictures today. I sensed a way with the intention of asking for help. He actually asked me to talk, about myself, what's going on. Talked of photography school, learning to tell stories of neighborhoods, communities. He mentions money, I mention contra, we leave the game open. He sits quite open to me with direct shots to start with, quite comfortably for us both, sitting across the table for one another. And then the camera seems to be unquestioned at the table, in the moment. The light and the time of day is becoming interestesting, the mood of passers by and hangers on shifts still, things adding to the peaceful bit of park and the astringent culture of chess.
I'll prepare prints for him of course.
"I'm here every day."
The photos come out very sweet. A surprise. This is what happened? It is.
Met John at the Hanging tree, acknowledges me, no chess today, he's busy with a game of cards, we'll talk. Recommends that I go check out the chess players at the other corner : that's South West. The tables have boards ready-inscrusted onto their surface.
Meet Nah-Shon ("Hebrew name"), who has a set at the ready and an empty seat before the white pieces. Spent about 2h, talk, bullshitting, truthifying, but also weaving other strands, of exchange, soon interrupted with clichéd sequences in which we both play our parts, then open again, tentative, playful. Enjoyable. He too says "intelligent", that's worth it as encouragement. Also he says: "you're a photographer", having asked to see the pix. That's important.
Feeding the park's one black squirrel.
Game with a 7 year old, then with his super player brother of 11.
Nah-Shon tells me of Georgia and coming up to New York. Of 35 years playing the gem, of over 20 years in the park. Of the park's chess tradition since the 40s. Playing for money and getting income from teaching (he's lovely with the boys). Has two grown up daughters. "Nah-Shon?", "the prince, the comforter, the [prophet?], the chief ruler".
Things don't get shirked: women (God intends them to have children), and black men, whites knowing (more than blacks) the history of slavery,... The chess board is a strong presence also, with particular resonance, including in talk. Nah-Shon has a set with yellow pieces.
There are pictures today. I sensed a way with the intention of asking for help. He actually asked me to talk, about myself, what's going on. Talked of photography school, learning to tell stories of neighborhoods, communities. He mentions money, I mention contra, we leave the game open. He sits quite open to me with direct shots to start with, quite comfortably for us both, sitting across the table for one another. And then the camera seems to be unquestioned at the table, in the moment. The light and the time of day is becoming interestesting, the mood of passers by and hangers on shifts still, things adding to the peaceful bit of park and the astringent culture of chess.
I'll prepare prints for him of course.
"I'm here every day."
The photos come out very sweet. A surprise. This is what happened? It is.
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