I don’t usually focus on a specific group of people when I shoot. Most of my photography doesn’t follow a narrative—it's rooted more in fleeting moments, textures, light, and the rhythm of everyday life. But with the Jewish communities in Brooklyn, particularly in Williamsburg and Borough Park, I made an exception.
Capturing a timeless photograph is already a tall order. You’re chasing a feeling, not just an image. The light has to hit right, the scene has to breathe, and the subject—if there is one—has to carry a certain presence. Finding people who look timeless? That’s rare. In most modern cities, style is so closely tied to the now—trendy, fast, disposable. But in these neighborhoods, it’s different. There’s a kind of visual, an aesthetic tradition that hasn’t shifted with the decades.
Compared to the fast-paced, glass-and-grind energy of Midtown Manhattan, Brooklyn’s Hasidic and Orthodox neighborhoods are a gold mine for classic street photography. The men wear fedoras, hoiche hats, and platchige biber hats, items that seem untouched by fashion cycles. The women move through the streets in graceful headscarves, long skirts, and vintage-style heels. Even the children wear clothing that feels like it stepped out of a different era.
It’s not a costume. It’s not curated. It’s just life, and that’s what makes it photographically rich.
What’s most striking is how consistent it is. In a single afternoon on Lee Avenue or 13th Avenue, I’ll get more photographs I actually keep than I would in an entire week of wandering through Midtown. Not because the light is better. Not because the architecture is more interesting. But because the people bring the scene to life in a way that feels eternal.
There’s also a certain rhythm to the streets here. Life is lived communally. People walk in groups, talk in passing, push strollers, stop in bakeries. You don’t feel the same isolation that can define other neighborhoods in New York. It gives the images more depth—more narrative, even if that wasn’t the original goal.
I found myself revisiting these spots again and again. Not just because the subjects were visually compelling, but because there was something grounding about the experience. There’s no pretense. No need for small talk or performative cool. Just people living their lives in a way that happens to photograph beautifully.
And yes—if you’re out that way, you have to stop by Oneg Heimishe Bakery. Their chocolate babka is worth the trip alone. It's dense, rich, not too sweet, and as layered as the photos you'll likely walk away with.
If you're chasing that elusive "timeless" look in your photography, skip the tourist traps and the mirrored high-rises. Go to Brooklyn. Walk slower. Observe more. And let the streets speak for themselves.
