Coney Island in the Summer is gorgeous. The mobs of people coupled with the surf, sand, and hot dogs seem to emulate Brooklyn, New York in a way that has rung true since the days of Steeplechase, Luna and Dreamland Parks.
But, I also love Coney in the winter. It's quiet, desolate save for the Sea Gulls and crashing surf. Today Coney is at a Crossroads. It's only been fifteen years since digging in the sand on a Summer day meant that you had to be careful not to prick your finger with a hypodermic needle. Fifteen years from now, it might be a resort for the wealthy and famous once again.
The Purpose of this Photo Shoot was to capture Coney on a cold, clear day. It's being forced to change, but it doesn't want to. It's going out swinging.
But, I also love Coney in the winter. It's quiet, desolate save for the Sea Gulls and crashing surf. Today Coney is at a Crossroads. It's only been fifteen years since digging in the sand on a Summer day meant that you had to be careful not to prick your finger with a hypodermic needle. Fifteen years from now, it might be a resort for the wealthy and famous once again.
The Purpose of this Photo Shoot was to capture Coney on a cold, clear day. It's being forced to change, but it doesn't want to. It's going out swinging.