2006

If a silent film could be turned into a book, the result would be "100 New York Mysteries," a word-less object that speaks volumes, whose silence is deafening, and whose black and white photographs feel like Technicolor.

The book consists of 100 photographs of steam—escaping, shooting, spewing or seeping out from beneath the asphalt of Manhattan. Sometimes the gas forms a cloud that disguises an entire building. In other moments, only a whisper of whiteness is caught. Through it all, questions are asked but not answered. Mysteries are exposed but unsolved. Beauty is exposed.