Bathers

 

This project was born in New York during my first semester at ICP. I was a student on the Photojournalism one-year programme in 94/95. I discovered the 10th street Russian & Turkish baths through a classmate who suggested it might be the project I was looking for.

I walked in to the reception one afternoon and met Boris, one of the two owners. I asked if he would let me take pictures in the hot rooms. He said it was fine by him, but ‘they’re gonna break your legs’ (referring to the locals). Boris then paused and said I might just get away with it being an Englishman. 

So I grabbed a towel and headed downstairs to the heat. I emerged in the basement wearing swimming shorts and Nikon F2 over my shoulder, partially hidden with my towel. The basement was essentially a townhouse with a sauna one end, plunge pool in the middle with benches alongside filled with punters reading their newspapers. At the far end there was a door to the Russian Turkish hot room. This was the room that had the most visual interest to me. It was like going back in time. It’s searing heat fogged my lens in seconds. I had to wipe then click, and shoot wide open at maximum shutter speed of 1/30th with the mirror kept up (a feature on the Nikon) to reduce camera shake. 

The results from that first visit were blurry and underexposed; apart from one frame out of the two rolls I shot. This was the mafia guy that turned his back and posed with his arms folded, not before he swore at me and threatened a broken leg or two. Thankfully he had a change of heart and said as long as I didn’t get his face… and that I promised to return with a print to show him.  

I did return with prints and and faster film. And did gain the trust of the regular clientele, who once suggested I get a massage to relax me before I started shooting. This involved getting walked on and whacked with birch leaves by the resident masseur, a deaf guy (apparently so he couldn’t listen in to private conversations). I also tried putting a 60w bulb in the hot room, but it killed the atmosphere. It was a challenging place to photograph. It tested my technical skill and equipment, but especially my nerve. I dreaded having to make my announcement to let people know about my project… and that I wasn’t a weirdo. 

I could only visit every fortnight due to an eccentric arrangement that Boris had with his brother the other owner. They didn’t talk, so they took it in turns, one week on, one week off. Patrons were either a Boris week or David week.

Ultimately I had to branch out to bring variety to my project. The feel of that first successful image I made in the hot room, was something I hoped to maintain. I went on to photograph water aerobics at a pool on the upper west side, a flotation tank guy on Coney Island, Action Park, a water theme park in New Jersey, Glenwood Springs in Colorado, my most productive day. And a visit to Iceland where I photographed the blue lagoon and a public pool in central Reykjavik.