Photo Essays

Share pictures of your neighborhood during self-isolation by emailing company@labtheater.org.

A Play. A Story. A Poem.

By Kara Young

John Ortiz

It is safe to say we’ve never gone through anything like Covid-19 before...not on this scale.

The closest I got to this was 10 days after 9/11. I was driving north on I-87 to LAB’s Intensive when my mother called to give me the news that my father instantly died after being struck by lightning while jogging.

While there have been striking similarities for me between these two tragic occurrences, the two biggest differences have allowed me to process them quite differently. (1) I am not alone and (2) I am no longer suppressing pain with uncontrollable drinking. Thank God I’m not alone and have 8 years sober now because shit got as real and raw on a global level as it can possibly get.

The seemingly endless rise in the number of dead (I’ve known a few) is chilling. The sudden loss of businesses and jobs (my dream job scheduled to begin June 1 in Italy and Spain came to a crashing cancellation) has been crippling. The disappearance of all physical human gatherings can potentially crush the soul.

While the overwhelming nature of our new reality is fueled with the emotions that once scared the shit out of me, I can now not only process them in a way that will not kill me, but every morning I’m grateful for the opportunity to consciously lean into the fullness of all that is happening Today.

Inside and outside.

When I lean into it,

when I fully and openly make the decision to lean into the good of it, I experience a kind of moment to moment peace that we will not only be ok, but we will undoubtedly become better versions of ourselves when some type of new normalcy returns.

These momentary senses of serenity are not always with me-

In fact, bouts of sadness, anger, anxiety and fear occasionally creep in, but as shown in the following photos the sprinklings of quiet, courage, laughter, stillness and love begins to wash away at some of our shared sorrow and gives me the hope and promise for a better tomorrow.

Breakfast, LAB, and puzzles (#1)

Delivery heroes (#2)

Lou the mailman (#3)

10 freeway at 4:30pm (#4)

Clemente & Mia on a dusk walk (#5)

No need for a cut anytime soon (#6)

Love wins all the time (#7)

 Willie Takes A Walk

By Wilemina Olivia-Garcia

Company member Wilemina Olivia-Garcia taking a walk in her neighbohood, the Castle Hill area of the Bronx. 

Halfway Bitches

By Molly Collier

My favorite thing about photography is being able to capture my friends personalities in an image. I got to know this fantastic group of artists during our co-production of Halfway Bitches Go Straight to Heaven by Stephen Adly Guirgis directed by John Ortiz at Atlantic Theater. Taking their portraits was an honor. I hope their beautiful spirits transcend the screen.

David Anzuelo

Sean and I live up at the very tip of Invood in Manhattan. Our building is right next to Inwood Hill Park. We chose to live there because it feels like we're not in the city but actually are. Inwood Hill Park is a bit special because it has a water fowl sanctuary there where there are plant life that lives nowhere else on the island. It also has a plaque mounted on a boulder that commemorates the purchase of Manhattan from the Native Americans. But most importantly to me, the park is home to a huge variety of wildlife: hawks, seagulls, bats, heron, frogs, skunks, racoon. opossums, seals, coyotes, woodpeckers, ducks, geese, fish, bluejays, robins, fireflies, cicada and crickets. 

Sean and I have always preferred to take walks in the park late at night when there are no people and the shy animals come out. We have seen all of the above listed animals at one time or another. I like to think that they are aware of our love for them and choose to show themselves to us. 

There is also a kayak boat house right behind the waterfowl sanctuary marsh. It houses kayaks that people can rent and paddle around the island in the summer. The boat house is lit up at night and looks beautiful and casts both ghostly light over the forest of the park and exquisite reflections on the water of Spuyten Duyvil Creek. 

 

Image 1: A view of our building looking across the Spuyten Duyvil Creek at midnight.

Image 2: Mackeral cloud formations over the forest hills upper inwood. 

Image 3. The Columbia Boat House with reflection over water

Image 4. Sean and Dave: Nocturnal Social Distancing/Communing with Nature

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