Staten Island Ferry

For two weeks, I rode the Staten Island Ferry back and forth, documenting the everyday lives of its passengers. The ferry is one of New York City’s most routine spaces—a free ride, a daily commute, a tourist detour—but it's also a strange in-between world, suspended between land, boroughs, and moments. It’s a space where nothing really happens, yet so much passes through.

I photographed everything using flash, not just as a technical choice, but as a way to transform how the space feels. The harsh, artificial light flattens and exaggerates at the same time. It pulls forward the deep oranges of the plastic seats, the blues of the uniforms, the metallic greens and yellows bouncing off windows and walls. It turns a sleepy commuter’s coat into velvet, and a spilled drink into something cinematic.

The flash gives a kind of glamour to the mundane. It makes this everyday ritual, the ride, the wait, the boredom, look like a scene from a movie. It adds a layer of artificiality that feels true to the city itself: a place that’s both gritty and theatrical, public and private all at once.

With Between Shores, I wanted to slow down and look closely at something most people rush through. To make this overlooked slice of city life feel strange, beautiful, and alive again. The ferry isn’t just a way to get somewhere—it’s a world of its own, lit up for anyone who cares to notice.