In the rain, after midnight:

I hadn’t been in NY long, maybe a few months, when John’s girlfriend moved in with us. It was his place or at least he’d rented it first, so I didn’t have much to say about the situation and besides she was Swedish and a cool girl. Inevitably there were evenings were space was needed so I would go out seeking some late night entertainment. The thing is, I had no interest in bars or movie theaters, I had some exploring to do. Union Square, Times Square, Lower East Side, these are places you first hear about that are unlike anywhere else and at first I couldn’t get enough of them. They were a spectacle but still not outside of what I was expecting. I guess I felt if I was to be exploring I needed to find something uncharted.

At some point a series of these nights were dominated by rain, the rain that reminds you that we’re on a coast and mother nature gets fucking moody around the coasts. Looking back, I could have gone anywhere and definitely should have chosen a more sheltered venue. But I was unmistakably drawn to late-night Times Square. It had this sense of Wild West, of lawlessness, of individuality. Groups of settlers grazed thru narrow canyons, even a lone ranger with his hat lowered moved through the scene: quickly, barely noticeable, a glowing shadow. This is what struck me, a glowing shadow, canyons of glowing walls. This, to me, was odd uncharted territory and exactly what I was seeking.

I hereby became fascinated by the late night life below the mega advertisements in Times Square. Looking back it was a childish awe. I got excited. I started taking my camera with me just to soak in the crowd and their interaction with these monsters… these monoliths of money. I fantasized about this Wild West scene, how we were all pulled in like mosquitoes, by a strange draw and we felt better in rain-bowed glow.

After spending some time there what really caught my attention was how nonstop this was. No matter what hour of night or condition of weather people were pulled in, myself included. So this is when I would return, the late hours of a rain storm, in a total down pour, when most of the city was tucked away and yet there were groups of people loyally changing colors in the rain:  Two tourists draw small cameras, take aim and fire; capturing the canyon for family back home. A man pulls up to the curb, looks twice and sprints across a road glowing with stripes. A chef smoking a cigarette in a phone booth; shadowed from the glow he finds respite.  A women descends slowly into the subway, removing her umbrella, she hesitates, afraid to enter? afraid to leave?


Graham Letorney