Windows and Stairs
Seen looking east from the High Line Park, somewhere near 18th Street.
Seen looking east from the High Line Park, somewhere near 18th Street.
The lineup started outside. Way outside. One line came from the north, snaking around the fountain and up Fifth Avenue. The other wound south. But they converged at the top of the steps and reformed inside the Museum of Metropolitan Art, winding through the galleries and balconies of the second floor. This photo was taken near the “2 Hours From This Point” sign.
Set on a 1.6km section of elevated subway track converted to a greenway, the High Line Park is one of my favourite things in New York. With great views, of both the city and in the nearby galleries of Chelsea, the setting is a great collection of juxtapositions that seems to define the entire town.
From seat 18A, en route to Paris’ CDG Terminal 2.
Looking eastbound toward Monaco from the Nice station, tracks converge before a bridge and tunnel out of the city centre.
The railing from my hotel room, looking onto the courtyard.
Climbing southward out of Amsterdam, bound for Paris. The forests and farms of The Netherlands about to disappear below the clouds.
Stone, sky and vapour. Midday on the streets of Cannes.
The empty gate area at A66, about 9:30pm.
Walking just the distance of a few gates in Detroit’s McNamara Terminal, our global connectivity laid bare. Cleveland, Seoul, Amsterdam, Sault Sainte Marie. A few steps but a window to the world. It never stops seeming cool to me. And as a global health practitioner, in the coolness are challenges.
From my first walk along the water after arriving in Cannes for Lions 2011.
On the road. In Europe. It’s great to be back abroad again. I’m working, but it’s still so nice. This is a reprise of photo shot years ago on black and white film.
From the chaos of weather and delayed flights, a surprise trip to Paris. And necessary, if I was to arrive in Nice today. Thousands of people streaming in from almost 100 countries has made space in Cannes a hot commodity. So when my flight from JFK was delayed and I missed my connection to Nice, I went from Amsterdam to Paris for yet another leg onward. 26 hours of travel and 5 airports later, the Cannes Lions Festival of Creativity begins tomorrow and it looks to be great.
Taken on my amazing Mediterranean trip in 2004, I’ve reprocessed this one to have more contrast and detail from inside the train. I’ve missed the photography of European trains and stations, but hopefully that drought will soon end.
After midnight, on the route between Brooklyn and and Penn Station.
In a park beside the Eastern Market in the Capitol Hill neighborhood.
A spool of rope on the bow of one of Baltimore’s Water Taxis.
From the first notes to reach my ears, the music of Dive Index has always captivated me. And for my past few trips to New York, the band has been the soundtrack to my visits, meshing perfectly with the destinations, the weather and the mood. But on the day of this photo, Dive Index was the reason for the trip to New York.
At the Broadway-Lafayette St. station in SoHo, headed for Brooklyn.
Few things generate such an immediate, visceral reaction as anything vaguely “nuclear.” Yet for such an evocative word, very few people actually know what radioactive material is. The green liquid in this vial is radioactive phosphate, a substance used for decades in molecular biology research. Using this specific material (not all isotopes are green – sorry, Simpsons fans) has allowed us to understand the very roots of our chemical composition in the letters of our DNA. Pictured behind the vial is a protective lead container.