I often marvel at the “organized” chaos of New York’s sidewalks, a continuous stream of passersby changing with the rapidity of a colorful kaleidoscope. Whether alone or in groups, going in one direction or another, people seem to be moving along purposefully, determined to forge a path within crowded sidewalks. It was this flow, and its many facets, that I set out to explore and capture in this project.
Not surprisingly, I have found that when feet do the talking in New York City, they create the visual equivalent of an impromptu jam session. Pedestrians, like jazz musicians, weave in and out of traffic. They stop at intersections, wait impatiently for the lights to change, and fall in step to the beat of the unscripted syncopated rhythm of city life. While some veer off, others join in. And all along, their footwear, like medieval coats of honor, defines each and every person on the move — man or woman, young or old, elegant or “cool,” white or blue collar, resident or tourist — the shoes tell their stories. But they also tell the story of the city at large, its energy, and diversity, and its ever-changing fads and fashions.
But feet on the move present only one side of the story. The other involves “repose,” when movement is halted, and feet come to rest. Pedestrians seem quite resourceful when seeking to “change gears” in a crowded city. With the exception of the homeless — who claim a space in the midst of fluid sidewalks for many different reasons (beyond the scope of this project) — those seeking a momentary break, might opt to “hang out” in the midst of the hustle and bustle. And still others flock to parks, or pedestrianized streets where the pace changes, and the beat slows down — counterpoints of sort, to the hustling rhythm of the sidewalks.
Corresponding to this sense of movement and repose, I have divided the project into two chapters: