It’s quiet. There’s no sound.
I’m in the middle of Times Square.
The noise just goes away.

It was on my grammar school class trip to Radio City Music Hall, after exiting from the steep and grimy subway steps on to the eye-popping streets of Manhattan, when the city spoke to me for the first time. That day was the beginning of my love affair with Gotham.

But unlike many others who delight in New York only for her bright lights, frenetic activity and 24-hour-a-day “anything goes” feeling, I soon became enamored with another side of the city. The result—City Quiet—is a photographic testament to New York’s secreted serenity and quiet beauty—an incredibly peaceful side of the city with its own visceral rhythm and aesthetic.

I wanted this series to capture what happens when a classic New York transition—starting with the din of the city-suddenly gives way to silence, stillness, isolation and anonymity—qualities that like New York’s more characteristic hubbub are also part of everyday urban life.

I didn’t find these images. They found me. I just kind of wandered around to see where the city spoke to me.

That’s my usual way of working. Then when something draws me into a moment that I want to make mine forever, I focus not on the whole but on little interesting parts—the interplay of line, angle, form, light and shadow.

The means by which I make my photos varies. I work with a 35-year-old film camera, cheap plastic “toy” cameras and some digital equipment. I use no tripod, shoot only with available light and do not use flash or filters.

My goal is to draw you into these images. By venturing behind the buzz, my hope is that they will speak to you in a way that will enrich your uniquely personal experience of the city as they continue to do for me.