Barbara Alper is a New York-based journalist. Largely self-taught, Alper’s photographic journey began as a freelancer with the Boston Phoenix and includes a decade with The New York Times. As a street photographer, Barbara is both a humanist and a humorist with a particular skill for seeing the lighter side of life. In tandem with her assignment work, she has created no less than half a dozen personal series on a diverse range of topics ranging from still life to underwater scenes to human sexuality. The latter series, Sex-Play, includes two distinct but related bodies best categorized as private and public. Within the public sphere sits photographs from the series reproduced here, an exploration from the early days of New York’s Chippendale’s club.

Shawn Waldron: You worked a few 9-5’s before becoming a photographer. Why the switch?

Barbara Alper: I studied Social Work at Michigan State in the 1970s then moved from Detroit to Boston after graduating. My first job was at a girls’ detention center; after three months of working there, it became clear that social work was not for me. I worked at Pregnancy Counseling Service (pre-Roe v Wade) before taking a job as a securities trader at an investment company. I enjoyed the work, but I wanted to be a photographer. I love taking pictures. While at Michigan State I was introduced to the basics of working with video as part of a mandated sensitivity training class. I tried to switch majors based on that experience, but the dean of the school said it was a dead end, that I would end up a secretary. In Boston, I became friendly with artists and photographers who were making a living and saw it was possible. After taking basic photo courses I brought a box of prints to the MIT Creative Photo Lab. Miraculously they allowed me to audit classes for a year for free. Basically, I just knew I could do it. Despite my family questioning my judgment for leaving a secure job, no one was going to convince me otherwise. It was the right move.

Shawn: Describe what it means to be a working photographer. For you, what is the difference between editorial work and personal projects?

This comes from being curious and interested in all people

Barbara: In simplest terms, as a working photographer I’m given an assignment and I need to satisfy the needs of the client. For personal projects, I’m both the photographer and the client, needing to satisfy only myself. I used to feel like I had a split personality, with a way of shooting for editorial work with an idea of how a photo might be used versus working with no particular purpose in mind. I had my editorial and stock work, and my personal or “fine art” images. Jobs are more concrete, with guidelines. When I’m shooting for myself it’s more spontaneous and intuitive, without guidelines or specs that I need to fill. My personal projects take place over time, typically years, whereas most jobs are one-offs. No doubt my vision is why I’m hired in the first place, and undoubtedly each affects the other. I enjoy both working on freelance gigs and separately on personal projects.

Barbara Alper, *Money Bags*; Chippendales, 10/14/83

Shawn: Over the last forty-five years you have produced long-term series such as Sea Samba, The Gulf Channel, and Sex-Play. How do they begin? Is it a conscious decision to solve a specific problem or issue? Do you discover something organically and begin to expand/explore? Or something else altogether?

the critical piece is being open to new experiences

Barbara:You forgot to mention Rockaway Beach which led to Sea Samba! In both editorial and personal work I’ve found that one thing leads to another, one client or job leads to another, and so on. My first project started at Rockaway when I used to visit my cousin; he was a lifeguard who also lived at the beach. On one of my visits, I decided to try a roll of b&w infrared film to see how that looked. I was thrilled with the results and wanted to continue exploring, specifically with infrared. It felt like nothing I’d ever seen before; it was new and exciting. In answer to your question, I’d say I discover my subjects organically, through living life and being open to what presents itself. I shot Rockaway for years, and each summer I’d try to bring a new element into the images, I don’t like repeating myself. I rented an underwater camera so I wasn’t limited to only beachscapes. That opened a whole new area to explore. And not just at Rockaway. I bought a Nikonos (underwater camera) and took it to Hawaii. The results were amazing, the images felt magical. I knew immediately that was the start of my next series, Sea Samba. In terms of The Gulf Channel, I began photographing the 1991 Gulf War on television the day it began. I had already made various images from TV, so this wasn’t a new idea for me, but this time I came across French news with English subtitles and stayed with that channel. After a few weeks, I had a collection of images with incredible commentary, often due to off-kilter and what appeared to me as occasionally subversive translations, and realized I was on to something special. I photographed the entire conflict through my television and the series became a commentary on war and how it’s presented. The critical piece is being open to new experiences. For example, if someone invites me to a party and suggests I bring my camera as there will be interesting things to photograph, I take the bite. That’s how Sex-Play expanded from photographing friends and lovers into sex clubs and dungeons, places I’d never been. My first party was at The Hellfire Club in the early 80s. I felt lucky to be able to shoot there, and like with my other projects, whenever I had the chance to photograph, I took it. Over time I got to know people, some of whom are still friends. Again, this comes from being curious and interested in all people, behavior, our environments, what’s hidden and isn’t readily seen, what’s meant to be private but gets shared.

Barbara Alper, *Male Strippers*, Chippendales, 10/14/83

Shawn: There is often an element of humor in your work. Is that something you look for when shooting?

Barbara: Who me, a sense of humor? Thank goodness I have a sense of humor, even if it can be a bit twisted or ironic at times. I wouldn’t say it is something I look for when shooting, I just see it – when I’m lucky and having a good day – and capture it. I find lots of things funny: the world is funny, people are funny, human behavior can even be funny, perhaps in odd ways, but funny nevertheless. It makes me happy when people look at my images and laugh, when they “get it” and appreciate the humor. We all need to laugh more. Right?

Barbara Alper, *Chippendale Kiss,* 10/14/83

Shawn: In terms of Sex-Play, there are two distinct bodies of work within the series – public and private. Which came first? What is the connection between the two?

Barbara: One of the subjects I wanted to photograph with my first “real” camera, an Olympus OM-1, was nudes. People were freer with sex and their bodies in the late ‘70’s; I approached a couple in Boston about photographing them making love. They agreed. Later there were other friends and lovers who allowed me to shoot them nude, or in some form of sex play. So, to answer your question, Private came first. After I moved to New York a photographer invited me to photograph his party at The Hellfire Club. That was the start of Public. The commonality between the two is witnessing and documenting behavior that we don’t get to see. Essentially, they’re both about getting a look at sex that no one outside of the participants normally gets to see, what happens behind closed doors.

Shawn: The photographs you made at the Chippendale’s club, some of which are reproduced here, are part of the Sex-Play series. Why did you start shooting there?

Barbara: In the 1980s I was part of a group called Professional Women Photographers. In October of ’83, the group was invited to the show on one of the opening nights and several of us, including me, went together. Naturally, we brought our cameras inside but those with bigger cameras were told at the door they could not take photographs. I had brought my small Olympus they didn't notice or care about. Lucky for me, they made the classic mistake of equating pros with big cameras and vice versa.

Barbara Alper, *Banana*; Chippendales, 5/01/93

Shawn: That sounds like a mix-up at the door! How would you describe the environment inside?

Barbara: Crazy! It was free; the women just kind of let it all out. There were no inhibitions, and the dancers were provocative, to say the least. They stripped down to a G-string and then approached the women who were more than thrilled to have the opportunity to hand these guys a dollar bill in exchange for a kiss. Well, not just for a kiss, but to be able to tuck your dollar bill into their G-string, so in fact, touch them. I think that part was a thrill. Plus, the guys were quite hunky and good-looking and sexy—at least for people who like that type. It was fun to see the freedom experienced by these women playing with these men, these sex objects, in public. The dynamic between the women and the dancers was interesting. The men are out there dancing and approaching the women – are they in control? Or are the women in control because they are holding the money? Is money the control? After the show was over, the doors were opened so men who had been waiting outside during the show could come in. It became a free-for-all because the women were horny, and the men were horny, and they would meet.

Barbara Alper, *Male Glow*, Chippendales, 10/14/83

Shawn: How did it differ from an S&M club like Hellfire?

the experience for them was about control, specifically, not having it

Barbara: For one thing, there was no actual sex involved, and no S&M. There was a distinction between performers and audience. At Hellfire, there weren’t performances, there would be people playing and others might be standing around watching. Both places have a sense of voyeurism about them. We can have an hour-long discussion about what happens in an S&M club. Who is the top and who is the bottom, or who is in control and when. Play between two (or more) people is an incredible thing to witness when done properly and consensually. I will add that every act and person I have photographed in this series has been done with consent. In the early days of Hellfire, the people were very sophisticated and, critically, they understood and respected the rules. I met a dominatrix who had been trained in England on the proper use of a riding crop, for example. Many of the participants were high-level professional men who were there specifically to place themselves in a situation in which they were not the primary driver. The experience for them was about control, specifically, not having it.