It was a beautiful day in New York yesterday, perfect late August: 85 degrees and sunny, with a slight sea breeze.

I took Little Man to my favorite park in New York: East River Park.  I love it because is in my neighborhood, and it’s rarely crowded so there are a lot of places Little Man can play and roll around in the grass.  The City has been paying a lot of attention to the waterfront of the New Yorkest of rivers, the East River.  The views of Brooklyn from the new esplanade are incredible, and the Williamsburg Bridge stretches over my end of the park.

I used my much-loathed Samsung Memoir cameraphone, which was able to produce a few good shots.

These are all licensed Creative Commons 3.0 attribution:

Below are three shots that I think remind the viewer of two things:  the immensity of New York City; and that it exists on a series of islands.  It’s such a large city that it’s easy to forget those.

All shots taken by David Shankbone and licensed Creative Commons 3.0 attribution.  All photos taken with the Samsung Memoir cameraphone.

The famous financial district in lower downtown with the Hudson River.  Taken from Jersey City’s Exchange Place train station.

Downtown Brooklyn with the East River seen from Pier 11 in Downtown Manhattan.

The Brooklyn Bridge with the Manhattan Bridge behind it, and the South Street Seaport in the foreground, taken from Pier 11 in Downtown Manhattan.  That’s one of the historic boats docked at the seaport’s museum.

Below are 2010 photos of the Lincoln Memorial licensed Creative Commons 3.0:

Lincoln Memorial stock photograph

Wide angle Abe Lincoln

Winter Lincoln Memorial with sun spots.

My winter study of the Washington Monument, with the remnants of the 2010 blizzards, licensed Creative Commons 3.0:

Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial with the Monument.

Washington Monument with snow.

Washington Monument from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial with the frozen reflecting pool in the foreground.

Me with my sisters with the Monument burned into the sky.

Tonight Paul Auster, as a I type this post, only an hour after that photograph was taken, is speaking before a large group of people on the fourth floor of Barnes & Noble Union Square, the must-stop for anyone who has written something worth knowing about.

The choice this evening was Invisible, and for me the event ended a horror before it began.  I left shortly after taking these shots.

I had planned on quickly saying hello to Auster.  He, Salman Rushdie and I had a small conversation last year at a breakfast honoring Israel’s gift to literature, Amos Oz.  I wouldn’t expect Auster to remember some party chit-chat from 2008, yet it makes a good re-introduction as photographer’s routinely identify themselves to the subject.

But it was made impossible by a man who was almost a penciled caricature of a paparazzo. What made it comical to me (not to anyone else) was that there was absolutely no need to go paparazzo.  He and I were the only photographers there, and it was Paul Auster in a bookstore not Britney Spears on a red carpet.

I should have known the guy was trouble.  The entire twenty minutes before the start he wanted to go on-and-on with me about the guy with Alzheimer’s who won the Nobel Prize for something he did decades ago.  He talked about things I don’t care about, like Einstein and fiber optics, and the tragedy that only now this guy gets the big prize as he suffers from memory lapse.

Most photographers don’t want to talk.  Maybe over the years they see the same photographers covering the same events, and friendships develop; otherwise, they get in and out and don’t want to hear a random photog’s life musings.

Not this guy.  His eyes were so bloodshot that they barely looked like eyes since the inflamed skin surrounding them was the same puffy red-pink shade as his cornea.  It all blended together in a fleshy wrinkled mass.  Somewhere in there I saw blue irises, drowning. His hair was so badly dyed–the gray, coarse base with what looked like a black dye-job over a brown one–it resembled a toupee.

B&N Union Square, despite its size, is somewhat intimate.  Often, I am the only photographer there.  When professionals show up they know from experience to respect the venue.  A bookstore is not the place to start shouting, “Mista Austah!  Mista Austah!  Look left!  Now above!  Mista Austah, toyn some to tha right!”

He did this while Maria, the curator of these events, was in the midst of her introduction of Auster, causing everyone to stare in our direction to a point that Auster, holding up his index finger like a schoolteacher, had to “Shhhh” the guy.  He was making a spectacle of himself (and by association, me).

These photography sessions don’t last forever.  You’re expected to take a few shots and then let the person alone.  Not this guy.  He wouldn’t stop photographing Auster, gesturing, yelling loudly, “Mista Austah, one maw look down please…”

Every photo I took has Auster, lips pursed, staring at this fool.

Auster looked at me and I nodded in a sign that I got what I needed.  I turned off my camera and looked at this guy still going nuts with the flashes.  To stop the endless shots that had long worn out their welcome, I moved in front of the guy’s camera and made the quick introduction to Auster.  Flustered, he only brightened with recognition when I mentioned the Amos Oz breakfast.

Then he was called up to the podium.  I turned toward the exit embarrassed.

The images on this post are licensed Creative Commons 3.0 attribution; any re-use is permitted but please link back to this post with credit.

Between Saturday Night Live, Scare Tactics and 30 Rock, Tracy Morgan has become a one man gang of hysterical. Now he’s written a book about his experience, I Am the New Black. Amongst its revelations are how he felt about his former Saturday Night Live cast members:

“I had my finger on the pulse of urban comedy, but when I brought my act to ‘SNL,’ those motherf*****s just felt bad for me. None of the cast i came up with saw this future for me. No, sir. All i have to say about that is, where’s Chris Katan now? Where’s Cheri Oteri now? That b***h can’t even get arrested. … It’s all right; I don’t mind. It’s hard to get mainstream America to catch up. Mainstream America has just learned the words to Sugarhill’s ‘Rapper’s Delight’! And we don’t do that s*** no more! Jay-Z and Lil Wayne don’t sound like that! No one sounds like that no more!”

On friends who were only interested in his money:

“I’ve got friends who want money but don’t want to do anything to earn it. They won’t hold down a f*****g McDonald’s job to feed their own kids, but now that I’ve got money they want to come and work for me. I don’t know what the f*** makes them think i want them working for me if they won’t get off their a** to provide for their own family. I’ve lost a lot of friends that way, friends who feel like they deserve a place on my payroll. They don’t get it: I don’t need an entourage. I don’t need motherf*****s to play Xbox with me. I’d rather play Xbox with my kids.”

Below are Creative Commons photographs of Tracy Morgan that I released under the 3.0 attribution license that are now found on Wikipedia and my Flickr Creative Commons stream.

Gore Vidal was at the Union Square Barnes & Noble to be interviewed by Leonard Lopate to discuss his life and his photographic memoir, Gore Vidal: Snapshots in History’s Glare.  He was spectacular, although he did not raise the headlines that he did at the 92nd Street Y.  From New York magazine:

Accused anti-Semite Gore Vidal is scheduled to speak at the 92nd Street Y, and former mayor Ed Koch is convinced that “those who invited him are, as Jews, either most forgiving, or schmucks.”

In attendance was Susan Sarandon, whom I photographed at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival, and Dick Cavett.  I also had shot Eva Amurri, Sarandon’s daughter.  After the event was over I introduced myself to Ms. Sarandon, and told her that the photograph at the top of her Wikipedia article is mine, and that it was a pleasure to have the opportunity to meet her.  The atmosphere at the book store was very relaxed.  There was a huge crowd and people were milling about to get out.  She looked at me and after a moment or two said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what ‘my Wikipedia article‘ is.  I don’t know what is Wikipedia.  But it’s a pleasure to meet you nonetheless.”  Then she returned to her friends.

Usually Wikipedia makes for a good ice-breaker, as it did with the aforementioned Ed Koch.  Not this time.

Then because of the way the crowd moved, Susan Sarandon was right behind me on all four escalators down.  Thankfully I was standing next to a pudgy Chatty Cathy of a man who had to talk about all the other times he had seen Gore Vidal. The moment I glanced at this guy in line he launched into Vidal lecture stories. I didn’t want Susan Sarandon behind me on the escalator to think, ‘Oh, shit, now I’ve got to talk to this Wiki whatever person four floors down.‘  I acted so into the conversation that I must have made the man’s night, but I don’t remember a thing he said except, “Gore looks on his last legs. I’ve seen him look better…”

At one point I glanced back and made eye contact and then quickly turned back around, just so she didn’t have to worry that maybe I hadn’t seen her; the introduction was pleasant and rewarding enough.

Nobody else noticed Susan, and where there was a pile-up beginning at the bottom of the escalator to the second floor because people wouldn’t move, it was Sarandon who called out, “Come on people, we have to move, this is dangerous.”  That’s a New Yorker, although I imagine the headline “Susan Sarandon Crushed in Tragic Bookstore Escalator Pile-Up” wasn’t an appealing thought to her, either.

Gore Vidal makes few public appearances now; below are Creative Commons photographs I released under the 3.0 attribution license that are now found on Wikipedia and my Flickr Creative Commons stream.

RZA, the co-founder of the Wu Tang Clan, was at Barnes & Noble Union Square to promote what is destined to be a must-read for any hip-hop aficionado, The Tao of Wu.  The Wu Tang is cited by MTV as the fifth greatest Hip-hop group of all time.

Something that stuck out was RZA talking about his troubled history.  He told the audience that even though his music seems to glorify violence and drugs, in reality he is embarrassed by some of the things he has done.  Hurting people, he said, is not something he is proud about.  The words were infused with a sense that, looking back, he probably made the choices he thought would most help his game even though he wishes he had had other options available to him.  It was a touching moment of honesty.  From Wikipedia:

Robert Fitzgerald Diggs, better known by his stage name RZA (pronounced ‘Rizza’; born July 5, 1969), is an American Grammy winning music producer, author, rapper, and occasional actor, director, and screenwriter. A prominent figure in hip hop music, he is the de facto leader of the Wu-Tang Clan. He has produced almost all of Wu-Tang Clan’s albums as well as many Wu-Tang solo and affiliate projects. He subsequently gained attention for his work scoring and acting in films.

Fox News reported that in mid-2007 RZA attended one of Hillary Clinton’s parties and donated money to her 2008 campaign. Fox News criticized the fact that Clinton took money from The RZA, claiming it was contradictory due to RZA’s felony record, FBI investigation, ties to the Gambino family and his music lyrics.  RZA referred to the investigation in one of his lyrics, “Plus, feds had one ad saying I gun traff’ / I sold 20 million records bitch, some laugh.”

Fox News is such a joke.

Below are Creative Commons photographs I released under the 3.0 attribution license that I took of RZA. They are now available on Wikipedia and my Flickr Creative Commons stream.

Below are Creative Commons photographs I released under the 3.0 attribution license that I took of Bernadette Peters at the premiere of Don McKay at the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival. They are now available on Wikipedia and my Flickr Creative Commons stream.

I already wrote about the death of prominent writer and theorist Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick.  I just wanted to post a copy of London-based The Guardian‘s use of my portrait in their May 12, 2009 obituary in their print edition, which is not found on-line.  Special thanks to the Guardian‘s obituary department for sending me a complimentary copy.

Click on the image below to enlarge and read it.