KEVIN WEINSTEIN
Callejones
What I photograph is a mystery to me and it’s motivated by a desire to probe the meaning of what is mysterious to me. I am a voyeur, a wanderer, and a person who relishes in a great deal of solitude. I choose subjects that confuse me, incite fear, or ignite a curiosity. It is not until I confront these curiosities that meaning unfolds.
The pandemic added an entirely new layer of solitude with the Stay At Home orders. I anxiously paced my empty streets and back alleys daily for miles in zig-zag formation to pad the existing amount of solitude I already had been inflicting upon myself before the pandemic.
On one particular afternoon, I walked into the night and discovered a third layer of solitude. With humanity tucked away in their homes day and night, I immediately found a nosiness boiling inside about those inside these structures. The façade, both from the street and back alley, is impermeable to the eye, but not the soul's imagination. What are they doing to pass time? Are they, too, scared? Confused? Lonely?
Since I was a young boy, I have been inquisitive about what can’t be seen rather than what can be seen. Façade’s bore me, and the camera is a tool to search for authenticity. The houses that I had seen in my neighborhood, Echo Park, began to take on new meaning. I approached these scenarios with the intent to display as much detail as possible to sear through the walls and see inside. Clarity, contrast, and color are tools I use to create these scenes that blur the line between night and day.
The act of being a voyeur, the naughty aspects of actually making images, is reinforced and weakened by the distance to and from each home. It took a month to realize that I was not as alone as I thought. After several confrontations in back alleys with homeowners late at night, I learned that while I had been tiptoeing around the streets and alleys, I, too, was being watched via doorbell cams and back alley cams. Now the camera was being turned on to me.
Walking for hours each day and night also connected me to my neighbors who often were curious about my lurking’s. Some have become friends weakening the solitude I relished in, almost diluting it. I explained I am a photographer and walking the streets and alleys to pass the time. On one encounter, a young teenage boy turned to his friend and smiled, looked back at me into my eyes, and said, Callejones.
Someone who walks narrow streets and back alleys.
