December in Brighton:
a photo-essay
During pandemic time in 2020, I began waking early. Very early around 4am. I would search for the best sunrise spot in NYC. Brighton Beach. That’s where it is.
A community of Russian and Ukrainian Jews swim, fish, exercise, and feed the birds at sunrise every day. Even in December. Yes, they swim in December. Not a big deal.
Here are some film captures from my Minolta X-7A camera I bought at a stoop sale.
I bought my Minolta camera at a stoop sale in early December. Without having shot film in a while, I loaded the first roll incorrectly, and the film didn’t advance as I took a whole roll. Consequently, all the photos were composited into a single photo frame. If you look, you can see multiple sunrises and a few other hidden gems inside the photo.
I was a little bummed because I took some cool photos with the roll (fisherman who caught small sharks before they threw them back), but in this photo we have the remnants of what was documented.
Uncharacteristically for this habitat, a number of dead fish have been washing up on shore. The fishermen say the water may be poisonous for the fish The birds find an easy meal.
Alex, a mathematics university professor from St. Petersburg, Russia where he taught for 28 years. He has been in New York for 20 years and comes to the beach regularly with a thermos of tea to do his exercises. He seemed to enjoy having his photo taken and struck a few poses.
Boris, on the left, knows me by name now and greets me warmly whenever I return. He doesn’t like to have his photo taken, understandably. Who wants to have their photo taken at 7am when they are in their bathing suit in December? I get it. But, I took some photos anyway in a non-intrusive way. Boris is violin player from Kyrgyzstan by way Russia who has been in the US since 1989. He teaches kids from 1st grade on up and proclaims, “violin is my life”. He also told me that he used to swim in the deepest lake in all of Russia.
Bella is 72 years old from the Ukraine and is a business analyst who feeds the birds on the beach everyday at 7am before she logs onto her computer at 9am for work. She gave me some life advice and said that I need a scarf.
Beach Log, December 23rd:
The sun rose at 7:18am today, and I got to the beach at 7:20. Should’ve left my apt. sooner.
I do this awkward dance when I take photos of my Russian friends swimming, by not acting too interested in taking photos and stepping far back to not be invasive. It’s a strange balance of capturing the moment of people who I perceive as being unsure of me.
When I straightforwardly ask to take their photo, they most always say no (except Alex). So, here we are, with me doing this awkward dance of taking photos of these robust early risers who grew up across the world. My hope is that the more I go back and get to know them, the warmer they will feel about me.
They come, they swim, they exercise, they leave. Clockwork. I come with a camera, and disrupt their rhythm.
However, Boris did greet me warmly today by the jetty, and the door opens a little more with him as he reveals more about his life. I learned he was a wedding photographer when he first arrived in the US in 1989, when he didn’t speak any English. He recently bought a Tesla and wants me to buy one, too. I felt he was really selling me on it. I learned about his wife, who has Parkinson’s and his son who lives in NJ. I have the sense that he really is a kind, earnest, and hardworking person.
I began thinking today, as I am also a Russian Jew(amongst other things), but from a different era, perhaps there’s something there. Maybe if things went different for my family in Russia, my family would be where he is.
cell phone capture - September 26th, 2020
There is this lady - maybe in her 70’s who swims nude at Brighton Beach. Here, above, is the only capture I have of her. She’s usually there before the sun rises and leaves at it comes up. I’ve never spoken with her or come close, but other passerby’s who see me take photos ask me if I’ve seen her as if she’s the legend of Brighton Beach. I assume she’s the Bible of the morning swimmers, others assuming her rituals and aspiring to her consistency.
Immigrations
The last big wave of Russians immigrants to the US arrived after the Soviet Union fell with with over 20,000 Russian immigrants coming to NY in 1992. Many of these early morning swimmers immigrated during the late 80’s and early 90’s.
Beach Log, December 25th
Raining. Cold. Windy. Definitely not beach weather the way we normally think of “beach weather”, but to Olga and Mira, every day is beach weather at Brighton Beach. Let’s go.
I arrive before sunrise, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t see the sun anyway. I shield my camera from getting soaked with moderate success. The two women who are there everyday are definitely again there today, and they’re wearing these Christmas stocking caps along with their bathing suits. Before they jump in, they make a cell phone video of themselves wishing a merry Christmas to their friends and family. And, into the December ocean they went - rain, wind, and all.
I stand back and capture the moment on film. If I get too close, I’ve come to learn it intrudes on the moment. My film camera doesn’t have a zoom lens anyway.
I had the sense that these women were, at best, indifferent to me, as we’ve seen each other at least five times before. Today, I introduce myself. They, in turn, introduced themselves, Olga and Mira, and engaged me in polite conversation asking if I’m having a Christmas dinner tonight. Door opens some more. Mira is not Jewish, she says, but most of her friends are and everyone celebrates Christmas anyway. Just about everyone is Russian, though. Mira changes her shirt while talking to me, and my reaction is to look away. As Americans, nudity is something we instantly turn away from as something not part of normal social decorum. I continue chatting anyway - and stop being so American. Olga and Mira seem like the best of friends, maybe in their 50’s 60’s…it’s really hard to know. Jumping in freezing water makes you eternally youthful.
For those who wonder if there is any weather that deters all morning swimmers, I haven’t come across it yet. Winter is just getting started.
Beach Log, December 29th:
Gorgeous morning. Many people out.
Jogged a bit with Boris, saw the ladies, and a fellow non-Brighton Beach resident named Anna who jumped in the ocean with the same exuberance I had 3 weeks ago only to have the Russian ladies say to her with a smile, “okay, next time, without the wet suit”.
I made a new friend, Elita, who was feeding birds. She liked having her photo taken. She then inquired if I travel and invited me to Ecuador to take photos with a shaman. Will follow up.
After Anna’s first time in the winter water.
Elita.
Beach Log, January 1st:
Happy new year.
This roll of film below will conclude my “December in Brighton” photo series as we have now reached one day past December.
The annual Coney Island Polar Bear plunge was cancelled because of COVID, but there were still quite a few people out. Maybe about 100. I did the polar bear plunge a couple years ago and have the shirt to prove it.
But, there’s something really special about the quiet swim this Russian community does every morning. No fuss, no t-shirt to prove a member of the polar bear club. They aren’t seeking accolades or are feeding off of their peers’ astonishment. They’re just doing it because they’re doing it.
For themselves.
I also think American culture is so validation-seeking. Expressed so much through social media and the like. That comparatively, there’s a raw earnestness here in the early morning swimmers that isn’t seeking validation, but are truly quiet, and even a little private, in their morning ritual.
I did go in the water today, and the older lady, (yes, the aforementioned elusive one) saw me.
When I emerged, she smiled at me and said, “good boy.”
New Years Day.
Sunrise swim. 18 degrees.
