Do you remember what you were doing the day you heard there would be a “shutdown” due to the pandemic? What were your thoughts at that time? How long did you think it would last? What was your anxiety level? Did you feel safe?
“The impact of the pandemic will never end” says some prognosticators. I’m not here to argue that point—or any other point about the pandemic. For all of us, it happened! No one can argue that it didn't happen. I remember it well. It impacted my livelihood negatively just as much as my creativity positively.
I didn’t sit down and take it on the chin. I did what I could to account for my time. I did what I would normally do. I photographed! Here’s a small piece of what went on.
Note that this particular article is a little longer than usual due the expansive nature of documenting it.
I’m working my way home from the job in the above photograph. Many companies have already switched to remote work for their employees. The company I worked for was in the early stages of solving the issues of remote work. It was a new thing to us all. I didn’t want to use my home computer to do company work, that made no sense to me—unless they subsidized the cost of operating my computer. If I’m doing company work, who is responsible for fixing it? What do you think? Ugh! I digress!
On what would normally be a busy subway stop, there are but two people on the platform, and one is me. I’m commuting to the work on my last on-site day. It’s Friday the 13th.
It’s about this time I realize that New York City is going to feel and look somewhat like this no matter where you travel within its bounds. The thought of documenting the effects of the pandemic on the city is planted in my brain and begin to take root.
My first act of the plan is to stop at one of the street corners in the city that always offer me an accurate “pulse” of the energy level. This is one of the corners that surround the Port Authority Bus Terminal. During rush hour it’s a very busy section with throngs of people moving in every direction. One moment its quiet, the next moment when the walk light turns go-the onslaught of people walking past becomes dizzying.
The sense of what the next few months will be like become crystal clear as I work my way home on the subway. This is a major subway stop for commuters, and it’s virtually empty. The throngs of people normally getting off of each train is now but a trickle.
If you know anything about Times Square NYC, you’ll know that it is rarely this absent of tourists, travelers, street performers, buskers, commuters and such—even on a Saturday morning. Such is the case as the information—and realization of the news of the world sinks in deeper.
On what is one of the busiest neighborhoods of the city on its worst day—one of the only people I see is Robert Burck. It’s 49°F, you’ll aways see him in his skivvies—busking. There is no one to “busk” for that I see.
I don’t discount photographing people because of their political beliefs. I photograph what I see to tell a story. Nor, will I ever alter a story to appease a particular group. That is not who I am at the core. It is what it is.
If this time in life is to be seen as the human sleep cycle, I would consider this day to be the beginning of the first stage where you’ve just closed your eyes and have begun to fall asleep.
You’ve not begun to dream yet as it’s too early in your sleep cycle to do so. Here you can still wake up easily, but given the circumstances—do you even want to?
One of the most congested neighborhoods in New York City is now barren. Manhattan Bridge on the East, Holland Tunnel on the West. A major vehicle route relegated to a trickle. This view is looking West. The usual overcrowded sidewalks filled with street vendors and shoppers, now void.
The crossroads of Harlem didn’t escape either. I know many people were filled with anxiety. Not knowing how to juggle the emotional impact of being quarantined for an undetermined amount of time. Whether it’s better to be with family, or not—not knowing which would be the safer course of action. To those who’ve died during this time, I grieve their loss. Every life is precious, and is not to be considered offhandedly.
I began this article thinking I’d show you images throughout the two years, but now realized it would be redundant. You get the literal and figurative “picture.” This would still be the beginning of your sleep cycle.
Figure that January 2021 would have been your fourth hour of an eight hour sleep cycle. As of the time I’m writing this (2024), I’m not even sure we’ve woken up yet!
If you’d like to see more, watch this three-minute slideshow from the series.
So many things were in the spotlight in 2020, I didn’t forget them. This article was to center on what I came across during the time—specifically about the pandemic.
If you’ve found this article to be informative, let me know by leaving a comment—or select “like.” If you’ve been affected and would like to share your story, please speak about it in a comment. It can be cathartic not only for you, but others.
As always, I thank you for taking your time to read this article. I sincerely appreciate that you’ve done so.
Til next time…
Kenneth