Poster Child

Sometimes you don’t get what you came for. You get something better.

Some of you might know that I’ve been working on a documentary inspired by my Railfan series, which focuses on autistic kids and their love of subways and trains.

We started shooting in 2021, on the heels of the pandemic, and after a long road through production and post-production, we’re in the final stages. The director, Ian, is currently working with the musician Disasterpeace on the film’s score.

First, can you do me a favor? If you’re interested, please sign up for updates on the film here. I’d really appreciate it. We will be starting a Backerkit campaign soon, and we’d like people to know about it.

Because the documentary is centered around me and the kids and families I photographed, there is not all that much for me to do at this stage of production. I’m not color grading or scoring, so my role right now is mostly helping build momentum for the release, getting on Zoom calls with film festival programmers, things like that.

To keep myself creatively engaged, I started thinking about what the movie poster, or posters, could look like. It is really the last meaningful way still photography can be part of the project.

As part of the original series, I made a lot of photographs, many of which could work well as a poster. Some of those images are what we have used so far for promotional materials, and there is still a good chance that, when all is said and done, one or more of them will become the official poster. The main reason I started thinking about making something new is that I have lived with these photographs for years, and I liked the idea of discovering a new image for this final stage of the project.

There’s also the possibility that the poster could come from a still frame from the film itself, beautifully shot by Joe Tomcho. This is one I particularly love, of my nephew Booker.

A few months ago I came across this photograph below by Michael Szpot.

Over the last 10 Years I’ve been to almost every station in the system, and I vaguely remembered this location, but I’d never been there at sunset, and I’d never photographed there before. Isn’t this shot beautiful? It doesn’t even need the location to work, the moment between the girls is enough, but the setting makes it even better. I’ve always loved mixed light, so the buzz of the platform light against the gentle sunset feels like magic.

Michael Szpot

Taking that image as inspiration, I made a plan to head to that station with my son, the easiest railfan to coordinate with. He has never turned down a trip on the subway. We went out to the Astoria Boulevard station in Queens before sunset. I was hoping for a little of that mixed light magic, along with the glowing lights from the Grand Central Parkway and the RFK Bridge in the distance. Here is a shot from that exact location that I took as we waited for the light to be right.

I knew this obviously wouldn’t work for the poster, and I wouldn’t want to do such a complete rip off either, but I wanted to take it for fun anyway. It’s nice, but not as nice as the original.

I didn’t know this before going, but this is a popular place to photograph sunsets, because by the time we left, there were at least 5 other photographers there, a mix of train enthusiasts and film camera nerds and sunset chasers.

I was obviously looking for a vertical shot, with the bright light of the platform allowing Orson to really pop off the darker warm light of the background. I did get a few shots that were OK, but I was mostly unmoved. It had not really worked out like I’d envisioned it beforehand.

This one is interesting, but not it.

I do love this, and I think it miiiiight work for a poster. Shot on Portra 800.

I would describe the results of the evening as mixed, because maybe there is something there for a poster. However, I did get one photo that I am very happy with.

Orson and I sat on the platform for about half an hour, waiting for the sun to dip below a nearby building so the headlights and bridge lights would begin to pop. Across the platform, a young girl waited for the Manhattan-bound train with her mom. She held a small doll and half listened to what her mother was telling her. The sun caught her just right, and she started to glow.

She lifted her head and looked upward, held her doll close, and luckily for me, I already had my camera out of my bag. I got off three frames before she stepped out of the light.

I know there is a lesson in here somewhere. I did not get exactly what I had envisioned, but I did get this.

And maybe that is the lesson. You go out looking for one photograph, one idea, but something else reveals itself. Not the picture you planned for, but sometimes a better one.

Thanks, Travis

While writing this I was listening to: