Ryan Weideman’s mobile studio

Volume Number 1 Issue Number 12 / December 15 - 21, 2006

Courtesy Silverstein Photography

Ryan Weideman, “Riding with Dream Lovers in Love,” 1983

By Tonia Steed

Ryan Weideman studied photography at the California College of Arts and Crafts (now the California College of the Arts), but he didn’t stay: “the visual capital of the world” was calling. Reared on the gritty, noir images of New York in film and influenced by the images of New York photographers such as Diane Arbus, Garry Winogrand, and Mark Cohen, Weideman moved to the city in 1980 to document its people and its streets. To pay the rent, he started driving a taxi, and soon turned his back seat into a mobile photo studio. For 25 years now, Weideman has been photographing his passengers. A selection of these images, taken mostly in the 1980s and early 90s, is currently on view at Silverstein Photography.

Weideman’s work is black and white and very close range. A well-heeled, middle-aged couple smiles into his lens, a 4-foot subway sandwich stretched across their laps. (Later I learn that they invited Weideman up to their apartment to share the sandwich.) A group of boys are piled into the back, wrestling for a place in the frame. A drag queen strikes a classic cheesecake pose. A young woman sits with her arms wrapped around her knees and gives the camera a sleepy-eyed stare. She’s dressed in the punk uniform of the early 80s: leather jacket and scuffed combat boots, braided Mohawk. A cigarette dangles from her fingers. Still, as with all of his shots, Weideman’s treatment of the subject is respectful and the formality of the composition hints at high fashion photography. (Indeed, Weideman also cites fashion photographer Richard Avedon as an influence.)

What prompted you to begin taking photographs of your passengers?

Driving a cab prompted me. My subjects and I — we were meeting up. They would get into my cab, and suddenly a picture was there for me. And I always rode with my camera in the seat next to me, so I just started taking pictures.

How did you get your passengers to consent to being photographed?

It wasn’t easy at first. But as a cab driver, I got used to being spat on, cursed at, and abused. That abuse emboldened me — it lit a fire. I told passengers I wanted to shoot, that I was a photographer, doing a series of photos. Most of them just “got it”— hardly anyone ever said no. So when I would make the drop, I’d photograph them. That morphed into a lot of approaches. Sometimes I would act in the moment and snap intuitively — as they got in the cab, or in the midst of traffic. I’d turn around and snap the picture. It was rude, and obnoxious, but I’m greedy: If there’s an image, I grab it. Obviously some people didn’t like it. But I was hoping to have a connection with the people I photographed and I usually did.

Is there a particularly memorable story behind any of the images in the show?

The punk rock girl in the combat boots — Donna. It was about 4:00 in the morning and I was in the hack line outside a punk club. A group of guys — maybe eight of them — came out. I saw them approach one cab, then move down the line to the next, and the next. I realized that nobody wanted to take them. But they looked interesting, so I motioned them over and they piled into my cab. We got along great. I told them I wanted to photograph them, and they were excited and enthusiastic about it. So I took some great pictures (these are also in the show), and dropped them off at a party on the Lower East Side. Then a girl from the party climbed in. This was Donna. I had a great photo session with her. A few years later, after I had begun showing my work, I ran into her again. I was at the Lucky Strike doing a magazine interview, and she waited on us. She was dressed very differently, but I knew her immediately. “Do you remember being photographed in the back of a checker?” I asked. She didn’t. A couple of days later I brought in the photo. She was amazed.

What keeps you driving?

That’s simple: adventure. I love the streets. There’s a constant swirl and whirl of energy, and my cab is my studio on wheels. I no longer drive full time — I drive eight or nine months of the year and then get out of the city for a few months.

How have your passengers changed since you started shooting them in the early 80s?

They’re much less approachable now. There’s a real culture of fear since 2001. When I’m shooting on the streets, I have to be sneakier: sometimes I don’t even put my camera up to my eye. It’s easier to shoot pictures in my cab.

“Patrons: Photographs by Ryan Weideman and Sarah Stolfa” continues through January 6 at Silverstein Photography, 535 W. 24th Street, 212-627-3930.