(All photos by Allen Quiles, Not Title)
Fast links to my Allen Quiles Photo Review Series:
Always Something Moving
The architectural and demographic history of Mosholu requires more extensive research. But it is sufficient to say that the tension on the street creates such a circumstance where every person and every object seems conspicuously out of place in their own rightful habitat. The mismatch of demographic and architecture induced a circumstance where people live among the relics of another time where they are not allowed to violate its sanctity, but also not allowed to edify their ownership without offsetting a fragile equilibrium. Everything that moves seems to be treading over something or someone that is standing protest in nonacquiescence. Everything that stands seems to remain in the way of something that wishes to move towards a permanent edification of their existence.
(Flag Curtains)
In Allen’s photo, there is always something moving, something acting, over the backdrop of things balancing on a fragile equilibrium. It is not about the speed of the motion, nor the ferocity of action, but the contrast of something breaking an equilibrium. Take this photo, “flag curtains”, for example, the soon precipitating clouds refracts the afternoon sunlight into a grayish damp that lingers on the facade of everything that stands below the dome. But the administrative building emerges half way with a hue of brightness on its face quite surprisingly. The sunlight before precipitation treats, just the face of the administrative building alone, differently than everything else. The grayish mood itself is a fragile equilibrium; despite the agreeing color scheme, the grayish tone is soon to turn dark as rain is not far away. But the glorious facade of the administrative building breaks through the fading mood of gray just for a short moment before it starts to rain.
(“Jerome”)
In this photo, “Jerome”, the eclectic building is taken from a parallel angle elevated from the ground. The triangular shape of the gable that extended beyond the edge of the photo, and the rectangular shapes of the two yellow buildings behind, stabilizes the image in contrast to the weightless blue of the high flying sky, and the constrictive view of the elevated perspective. But besides this old contrast between stability and alleviation that has been around since the construction of the buildings, the black and white graffiti emerged with its curvy lines and breaks away from the contrast between shapes, and the consonants of blue, yellow, and brown.
Not all of Allen’s photos are as gentle and quiet as the ones shown above though. The story of the revolution of old and new, and the coexistence of people and things living among people and things that are caught in between, is inevitably sharp from time to time. In fact, at least half of Allen’s photos are sharp and visceral. They often have to do with capturing the moment when an ugly object produces a surprising relief. The Tracey Towers are very ugly. Their oval wings seem like concrete tumors lumped together and stretched all the way into the sky. One almost has to question the audacity of Paul Rudolph (the architect) to erect such an shameless object. The Montefiore Children’s Hospital is not much better. What lacks in audacity and shamelessness, it makes up with its eccentricity. The Hospital has the best of intentions, but its glass and metal construction and its perfectly squared shape resembles nothing childlike nor anything innocently natural. To live among such things and not to gouge one’s eyes out, one learns to find the angles from which they don’t seem completely offensive.
(No Title)
There is not one beautiful object in this photo, but the photo is beautiful. The food truck is over populated with signs and symbols. Just on its port and aft, the truck rambled “Bodega” three times with three different fonts, as if it couldn’t make up its mind what is the most impressive way to say the word “Bodega”. The fading calligraphies on its port side almost bleed into the stain and dirt that has not been cleaned for years. Had it not been the contrasting crimson and green, the Instagram insignia on the port side behind the rear wheel, and the calligraphy on the door, would have faded like the other two calligraphies that were sprayed in black. The two weary bodies resting on the stair steps also seem unwatchable. Despite the good weather, they curled up in the shadows with their hood and cap pulled over their heads. It seems that their fragile solitude could have crumbled under the weight of just one more unwanted attention. But between the babbling food truck and the quiet resting bodies, there is peace, a sort of peace by indifference. First, there is sufficient space that separates the two. Then, there is the lack of mutual acknowledgement between the subjects. The width of the pedestrian walk seems to be sufficient that the interaction between the two worlds is no longer necessary. The pouring sunlight seems to be the only tolerable commonality between the stair steps and the food truck that the subjects shared.
Before I start writing about the strange peace I saw Allen’s photos and on the streets of Mosholu, I consulted Allen if he is comfortable letting me steering the review in this direction. Trust is a rare commodity to come by, and the least Allen needs is an outsider coming in and commenting on his photos speaking about tension, violence and peace. In the communication, I communicated my observations with a less refined expression, but Allen nonetheless gave me his blessing with which I find appropriate to end this review:
“Everything that you observed is part of the daily experience for the average Bronxite. There is beauty and ugliness side by side. There is peace that is always on the verge of violence. One learns to see it and avoid it or stop it when possible. The area is a mix of many cultures. One learns to navigate through them effectively, with respect.
This is your piece. Take it where you feel it must go. If it gets a little ugly, it gets a little ugly. Perhaps give it a happy summary.”
July 1st, 2023
Kado
Photo by Allen Quiles// @goinpeacecapturetheworld