Time Traveling
"Somehow I had photographed this stranger taking a break in the same spot almost exactly three years apart..."
I often say that Los Angeles is infinite, which makes it an incredibly challenging place to accurately portray. My own answer to that equation is trust in the random. When I leave the house to take pictures, I literally have no plan. Although my destination may be a certain area or neighborhood, I don't have a specific goal or objective other than to photograph anything that I find interesting in a given space. I also repeatedly visit different parts of the city to incorporate the passage of time into my work. By modulating between both chance and structure, I've built an archive of recorded ephemera within which exists the portrait of one of the world's great cities. I know it sounds complicated (it is) but that is the core of my Archival Recordings project.
So what does all of this have to do with this newsletter? Well friends, I'm glad that you asked. This is the story of two photographs of the same person, in the same place, separated by almost three years and a pandemic. Together they are representative of how I approach making images. Time is one of the most important factors in my work. My photography tells the story of a city that resonates with anyone who has a genuine love for the neighborhoods and people who make the Los Angeles go.
The first photo, from January 2018, is from the start of my career as a serious photographer. I was coming off the year (2017) that set everything in motion for me, including being named one of Time Magazines 12 African American Photographers to Follow and being featured in the iconic New York Times Lens Blog, two achievements that I still struggle to believe happened. At the time I was preparing my submission to the NYT Photography Review (which I was accepted into) and part of my portfolio was based on Hollywood. While I was walking down Vine Street this man sitting on this ledge in the late afternoon caught my eye.
It was one of those moments of tranquility that are rarely associated with life in a major city and it just spoke to me. At the time, I liked it but didn't give it much thought. In fact, it didn't even make the cut for my portfolio review submission but it made enough of an impression for it to pop into my mind almost 3 years later.
In December of 2021, I was researching libraries for the LAPL Creator in Residence project I had just been awarded. A lot had changed in the time since 2018 and much of it was reflected in the landscape. As I was driving down Vine Street, I snapped this photograph with the new (at the time) Ricoh Griiix I had with me. Again, I didn't think much of it but when I got home and looked at it closely, one thought immediately came to mind; "I've taken a picture of this man before!"
I realized that somehow I had photographed this stranger taking a break in the same spot almost exactly three years apart. Once I got over my surprise I began to really examine each photograph, making note of the differences between the two and what those changes mean. The change over the years is indicative of the subtle but observable decline that the city has experienced since the pandemic. The man in the photograph is dignified in both pictures but in the second, the once ubiquitous mask hangs from his chin and his pose conveys a sense of alertness that is missing from the first image. The biggest shift though is how the photo from 2018 exudes a calmness that is completely missing from the one taken in 2021, despite the identical setting and subject. Of all the thing we lost in the pandemic that sense of calm may be the most damaging in the long term.
One Year In
At the end of October, Archival Recordings will be one year old. I have learned SO much doing this project and I'll be applying some of these lessons in the next year. I'll have a few cool things to announce in the coming months but most of all, I just want to say thanks to everyone who has supported the project. I really appreciate you all and I'm fortunate to have y'all rocking with the project.
Peace and stay safe!
Kwasi Boyd-Bouldin