7 Questions for Amy Horowitz

These young adults are coming of age in a world shaped by uncertainty, mistrust, and activism. There’s a lot at stake, and their self-expression is a hopeful reminder that they have a right to be seen, heard, safe, and not dismissed.

While the book is filled with colorful, visually interesting portraits, when I seek out subjects, I’m also looking for something more, a vulnerability, “a softness under the shell.” I’m interested in their journey and applaud their self-expression. In the chaos of our world today, it’s important to be authentic and hold on to one’s sense of self.

In addition to my introductory essay and the portraits themselves, I’ve included some of my subjects’ words on the inside jacket of the book. It felt important to hear their voices. For a few months, I walked around with index cards, and when I made a portrait, I would ask the person to write down something about themselves that someone looking at them wouldn’t know about them. Their answers are confessional, funny, and poignant.

SG: The book features over 150 portraits of subjects who were strangers to you. What was it like to approach strangers and ask to take their picture? Was there anything you learned or that surprised you?

AH: At first, it was very challenging to approach total strangers. In the very beginning, I would get very nervous, take their photos, and not make any conversation. I wouldn’t even ask their name. I was determined that this was what I wanted to do, so I pushed myself and went out daily. Over time, it became second nature. What surprised me was just how much I enjoy these brief bursts of connection. Generally, I spend a good deal of time on my own as I enjoy marching to my own drumbeat, so to speak. But I have to say that it has really broadened my world by engaging with people I probably wouldn’t have otherwise. 

SG: What drew you to portraiture as an artistic medium?

AH: I was taking a class at The International Center for Photography, and we had to choose a project. Since it coincided with the COVID pandemic (classes moved online), I chose to photograph architecture since there were very few cars on the road and almost no people. I had unobstructed views of New York’s glorious architecture.

One day, during my daily five-mile walk, I came upon a drag queen, changing from their stilettos into Birkenstocks. Excited to see a person, I approached and asked if I could take their portrait. They complied on the condition that I not show their “ugly” shoes in the photo. I found this encounter to be much more exciting and rewarding than shooting architecture. From then on, photographing people became my focus.

SG: Do you have any artistic practices that are part of your process?

AH: When I head out to shoot, I bring a 4 x 6 unlined notepad with me and a few pens. I write the date at the top and my Instagram account @dont_smile-nyc on the bottom, and after I photograph someone, I ask for their first name and their Instagram account name. This is my old school system for keeping track of who I’ve photographed. Once home, I transcribe the notes into brown leather notebooks, so I always have the names and dates for future reference.

SG: Much of your work is street photography. When you are behind the camera, do you see yourself as a community member, an impartial observer, or something in between?

AH: I see myself as both a community member and an impartial observer. I’ve been walking the streets of my neighborhood and Washington Square Park for over five years, so I’ve gotten to know the “regulars” and many street photographers who also like to shoot there. It feels like a community to me, and I do feel a part of it. Some of the young adults I’ve approached have said, “Oh, I’ve heard of you,” or, “I already follow you on Instagram.”

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt like an observer. Even in groups of people, I have always felt like an outsider looking in. When I’m out walking, I’m always on the lookout for interesting people and scenes.  Ever since the days of COVID, when the city was empty and quiet, and I wasn’t focused on photographing people, I would walk around my neighborhood and pay attention to details. I know what kind of dog is inside each window, who plays an instrument, who has children, and who wakes up early. 

SG: Is there a subject that you haven’t photographed yet that you would like to?

AH: Two of my children are twins—fraternal—and I’ve always been fascinated with twins, especially identical twins. There is an annual Twins Day Festival in Twinsburg, Ohio, that I’d like to attend. I think it would be fun to engage with and photograph twins.

Who are some Jewish artists who inspire you?

There are countless Jewish photographers. Two that have inspired me are Diane Arbus and Mary Ellen Mark. 

Arbus’s work reflects a reverence and sympathy for her subjects and was renowned for photographing individuals often excluded from mainstream society. She photographed people with physical and mental disabilities, those considered on the fringe of society. She captured their vulnerability and complexities.

Mary Ellen Mark photographed some of her subjects over the course of decades, building trust and taking a real interest in their lives. I love connecting with the young adults I photograph. Often, I run into them again and photograph them, a second time, a third time, documenting the changes as their stories evolve. I care about these young adults and am curious about their lives and their thoughts.

I hope that readers of A Walk in the Park? will realize that we are all the same despite our outward appearances. Self-expression is affirming and empowering, but deep down, we are all looking to love and be loved, to achieve our own goals, and to have a purpose. We all have vulnerabilities and strengths. We are all human.