The way the light and wind catches the grasses throughout the Bay Area feels so familiar. If the breeze hits just right, a briny mist mixes with fog that has been filtered through dense eucalyptus. That’s what San Francisco smells like to me. September into October is my favorite time to be in the City. An always belated summer transitions to fall—the weather and light equally warm as the seasons change.
In high school and when I returned home during college, I would often bike to the various beaches scattered throughout the City and across the Golden Gate Bridge. I’d watch sunsets and walk alone at midnight as a challenge to myself to quiet the fear that would manifest in my stomach when it’s dark and you’re alone. But as those bike rides became more frequent, that fearful feeling turned into a feeling of comfort as I found solace in the wind that hurled eucalyptus fog and mist from the Bay against my face. I found solitude and comfort in those spaces.
Click and enlarge.
Before coming to San Francisco for a month-long visit, I had been thinking a lot about my memories of the City. I had been writing down those memories and considering how I could represent them through photography. Images of fishermen along the Embarcadero and waking up before sunrise to open a café came to the forefront of my imagination.
As I arrived, thick smoke from the fires burning throughout California blanketed the City for the first week of my trip. It felt somewhat irresponsible to be out shooting in all that pollution and it was also hard to put myself in the mental space of my past when the present was so vividly tragic and specific.
On its surface, this series began as an experimentation with medium-format film and fashion photography. But it quickly became the exploration of memory and my connection with San Francisco that I had been seeking. As the smoke cleared I planned a shoot with my brother Ruben Staszewski and his girlfriend, and my friend, Jenna Harkins.
From a purely visual standpoint, I was interested in photographing them because they’re objectively interesting subjects. Bright red hair, confidence in front of the camera, and an eclectic affinity for vintage clothing made for a really natural first couple of shoots—one planned and one spontaneous.
Looking at this redheaded couple, it could be easy to assume that these two models were cast to achieve a certain look. In reality, they’ve known each other since they were teenagers, are deeply in love, and navigating adulthood in San Francisco together. I find their connection, which feels like it could be out of a folktale really interesting. It adds meaning to the images we created together.
After our first shoot, I started using the landscapes where many of my memories are contained as a backdrop for this series. I tried to conjure the feelings contained within those memories while also expressing the individuality and connection of my two subjects. I see these images as an exploration of memory and space.
As we drove to the various locations we would be shooting, we talked about our memories, family, creativity, and our futures. While I was using photography to examine my past, Ruben, Jenna, and I were creating new memories in the present. Because of my photographic practice and the collaborative nature of this project, I was able to deepen my relationship with San Francisco and with Ruben and Jenna. I’m incredibly grateful to have had that experience and look forward to making more pictures with them whenever we’re all together again.