Brighton Beach, Brooklyn lies adjacent to Sheepshead Bay and Coney Island. It was initially a beach resort on the Atlantic Ocean. By the early 20th century, it attracted an influx of Eastern European emigrees, followed by Holocaust survivors. Today, the area remains a Jewish hub.
In 1998, I moved to a beachfront studio there. Russian, Ukrainian, and Georgian emigrees reminded me of my forebears. The streets bustled with open air fruit markets, patisseries, and nightclubs. Visitors of diverse backgrounds commingled in this “Little Odessa by the Sea.” Self-sufficient elders pushed shopping carts and wheelchairs. Prideful fashionistas, whether they purchased their finery in local boutiques or discount stores, paraded on the boardwalk like a catwalk. Sun worshippers slathered on lotion; parents protected their children from the sun by constructing miniature cities with tents and boom boxes.
For me, Brighton Beach is a kaleidoscope of the human condition. There are moving and humorous juxtapositions of rich and poor, refined taste and high tack, glamor and grit. I use color as a tool to illustrate spontaneous characters and scenes which coalesce; each moment in time becomes timeless. People are archetypal, yet refreshingly themselves. My work is not meant to be a documentary of this unique urban neighborhood, but a portrait of its magic.
