Decay and Desire: Analyzing queer narratives in Alvin Baltrop’s “The Piers” (1975-86)
Written by Giselle Bisnaire Ziff, McGill University
Edited by Rachel Barker and Dahlia Labatte
Introduction
Alvin Baltrop, a Black queer photographer born in 1948, grew up in the Bronx and developed an early interest in photography when he purchased a camera at thirteen.[1] In 1969, at the age of twenty-one, he enlisted in the Navy as a medic, continuing to document the world around him, notably photographing intimate and provocative images of his comrades. Following his honorable discharge three years later, he attended New York City’s School of Visual Arts from 1973 to 1975. During this time, he began to explore queer spaces and identity, particularly in the West Village and the piers. Despite his dedication to photography – constructing makeshift darkrooms and working and living out of his van as a freelance mover to spend more time at the piers – Baltrop’s work remained largely unrecognized during his lifetime. Only after his death in 2007 did his work gain posthumous fame. Critics came to recognize the importance of his work in documenting and preserving the identity of a marginalized queer community in 1970s New York City.[2]
As a long-term archival project, his work mixes historical documentation, insider anthropology, and autobiography to capture the activity at the West Side piers. The piers attracted and gripped him because of the “grandeur and danger of structural ruin, and the people who occupied it.”[3] His book The Piers (1975-1986) explores neglected industrial zones in New York City, capturing the “frightening, mad, unbelievable, violent, and beautiful” against the raw cavernous space.[4] Once one of New York’s most valuable assets, Manhattan’s West Side piers and the warehouses located beneath them became decrepit and forgotten in the wake of industrial neglect. From the 1960s to 1980s, these spaces became clandestine sites for queer exploration, marked by a lawless atmosphere that facilitated a plethora of marginal activities, including gay cruising, drug trade, sex work, and, in some instances, murder. The dangerous nature of these spaces stemmed from the social context and neglected condition of the built environment in which they were established. Baltrop’s series captures and preserves the architecture, urban dynamics, and social interactions that occurred in and around the piers, ultimately serving as a historical archival document. His photographs began as an architectural survey and eventually expanded to focus on the people inhabiting the subsequent environment created as a reaction to the marginalization of queer identity. Since Baltrop took his images before the AIDS epidemic and the demolition of the piers, the photographs significantly chronicle the shifting dynamics of the era.
In this paper, I analyze how Baltrop places a queer gaze on the neglected architecture of New York City’s industrial spaces through his photography. I will argue that Baltrop transforms the neglected spaces of the abandoned piers, depicted in his body of work The Piers, into a strong visual narrative that captures intimate queer moments juxtaposed against the decaying, industrial, architectural milieu embedded with inherent historical stigmatization and political undercurrents. He preserves the lesser-told story of New York City’s queer subculture in a queer heterotopia, photographing it with a more inclusive gaze than his contemporaries.
The Piers as a Queer Heterotopia
Stonewall in 1969 and the onset of the AIDS epidemic in 1981 profoundly shaped the landscape of queer culture in 1970s and 1980s New York City. While queer spaces, exemplified by popular gay nightclubs, gained some visibility and acceptance among a growing population, more subversive forms of queerness remained stigmatized.[5] Popular gay culture in New York City was characterized by key figures who embodied a more glamorous and exuberant side. The exclusivity of this scene, as well as the increase in police raids of popular gay cruising spaces, places where one could look for casual sexual partners, leading up to the World’s Fair in 1964, pushed queer people into further marginalized spaces, such as the waterfront.[6] Moreover, the piers offered refuge for homeless LGBTQ youth, acting as one of the few places in the city where they were accepted and providing what was sometimes their only available form of shelter.[7] Thus, the piers provided a grittier flipside to the mainstream party culture of queer spaces, catering to a desire for cruising and other, more socially deviant sexual acts.
A space is queered through its intimate connection to personal perspectives. Christopher Reed asserts that the essence of queerness resides “in the body of the queer: in [their] inhibition” and “in [their] gaze” emphasizing the personal perspectives that render space queer.[8] They have the potential to exist in all domains of the public realm; however, queer difference is often only accommodated if it is kept out of sight.[9] Identity and identification of the space as queer is found through one’s own perspective and interpretation of queerness. Secrecy and stigmatization tend to be reflected in queer spaces, especially during the “coming out era,” identified as spanning the time between the end of World War II and the start of the AIDS epidemic. Additionally, most queer spaces do not cater to the eyes of outsiders, often using physical barriers as a way of fending off unwarranted attention, which leads them to have low-imageability from those outside the community.[10] Drawing on Kevin Lynch’s concept of imageability, which refers to the qualities that render a place either replicable in the mind's eye or not, queer spaces often thrive in environments that possess low imageability.[11] They are spaces that resist accommodating “the eyes of outsiders” by establishing a “low imageability” or “antilook.”[12] These spaces, less easily defined or understood by those outside the community, provide a safer environment for the expression of unique and socially deviant identities and activities. The piers embodied these aspects of queerness and enabled a precarious secrecy necessary for the activities that occurred there.
Similarly, the derelict condition of the piers presented a unique space for queerness. In “Cruising the Queer Ruins of New York’s Abandoned Waterfront,” Fiona Anderson argues that the neglected industrial spaces were the “ideal location for anonymous sexual encounters since they encouraged the projection of fantasy, distinct from the ordinary urban time.”[13] The piers presented a distinct space with a sense of temporality separate from the regular occurrences of daily life in New York City. Anderson uses the concept of heterotopic space, defined by Michel Foucault as locations that “serve as ‘counter-sites,’ symbolizing, opposing, and inverting all other traditional sites,” to refer to the discursiveness and otherness of the piers.[14] The piers existed as a world within, yet separate from the urban fabric of New York City, upsetting the outside reality and providing a culturally distinct space. In “Queer Heterotopias: Homonormativity and the Future of Queerness,” Angela Jones outlines that queer heterotopias are marginal material spaces where normative configurations of sex, gender, and sexuality are radically subverted and dislocated through the exploration and experimentation of queer identity.[15] Using these arguments, the abandoned piers and warehouses became a heterotopia for the marginalized queer community of New York City, providing them with the freedom to explore identity and space.
The derelict nature of the industrial atmosphere physically alienated the piers from the rest of Manhattan, providing the level of secrecy and separation necessary for the creation of a queer heterotopia. When the West Side Elevated Highway collapsed in 1973, it was permanently closed, however, the debris was not dealt with until its eventual demolition 15 years later.[16] The debris created a barrier between “civilized” Manhattan and the waterfront. It also added to the distinct look of the industrial space and provided a unique backdrop to the clandestine environment fostered by the queer community who took control of the space as their own island of reality.
Once again drawing on Jones’ analysis of queer space, it became a place where individuals could celebrate their differences and exist in opposition to heteronormative space, exploring and publicly presenting new subjectivities.[17] This act of occupying spaces not traditionally associated with queer identity challenges societal expectations and reinforces the diverse ways queerness can manifest. The collective community found in the piers is built on the foundation of individual temporal experience of queerness in this space, emphasizing the evolving nature of queerness. Thus, the piers acted as a site of empowerment and aided in the creation of a solidified subculture of queer identity during this era in Manhattan.
The dilapidated state of the warehouses served as more than just a visual backdrop; it functioned as a pivotal element that facilitated the emergence of a unique queer heterotopic space. The riddled walls provided peepholes perfect for the act of cruising or for photographing discreetly. In this way, the state of the built environment was important to the creation of this queer heterotopic space as it allowed for the exploration of sexual desire and identity more freely. Within the crumbling urban environment, people found a space outside the confines of social control, where the decayed structures aided both voyeurs and participants in the expression of sexual freedom. The vast and secluded nature of the industrial space evokes a sense of exposure and secrecy, reflecting the queer experience by navigating the line between visibility and privacy.
Queer Photography and the Exploration of Identity
As defined by Christoph Ribbat, queer photography destabilizes identity to challenge binary categorization. He claims that, similarly to postmodern architecture, queer photography displays the exoskeletal supports of identity itself.[18] Through Baltrops’s use of juxtaposition, contrasting the soft, nude bodies against the exposed and rugged landscape, he breaks down traditional beliefs of heteronormative spaces, exposing the exoskeletal supports literally in the architecture and figuratively in his photographs’ subjects. In comparison to straight photographers, queer photographers provide more intimate and personal documentation of queer identity. This exemplifies the importance of queer photography in providing a more accurate and empathetic depiction of queerness as a member acting from within the community rather than a stranger taking photos from without.
While Baltrop did not explicitly define his sexuality, he was known to have both male and female sexual partners. Through his work, he explored his identity and found community within the piers and those who frequented them. Although he cruised at times, he preferred to document the environment and established himself as a well-known member of the community, often intervening with his subjects only to provide them with STI testing and health aid.[19] The desire and gaze placed upon Baltrop’s subjects are distinct from the straight gaze. The common theme of the queer gaze seeks to “empathize and see beauty where other people see abjection.”[20] His photographs, although technically imperfect at times, as they were developed in his makeshift darkroom, sought to find beauty amidst the ruin, reflecting the precarious landscape surrounding the freedom of queerness.
A Selection of Baltrop’s The Piers
Baltrop’s artistic works document the environment holistically and diaristically, imbuing his subjects with dignity. He portrays the intricate interplay of queerness against the imposing backdrop of industrial architecture, where bodies and architecture often obscure one another, blurring the lines between the distinct forms. The dilapidating architecture serves as a reflection of the social marginalization of queerness, providing an ideal setting to juxtapose the soft, copulating bodies. The beauty of industrial ruin and of the sexual playground are key to Baltrop’s work and the emotional impact of his documentary style.
The diaristic qualities of Baltrop’s work are exemplified by the manner in which he captures his subjects covertly and obsessively, revealing each corner of life at the piers. His photographs embody the entire range of pleasures and dangers. Even when sex isn’t explicitly depicted, there is still a sense of sensuality and a reflection of the space as a sexual playground. Baltrop was consciously terrified of the piers and the dangers that were inherent in their environment.[21] He acknowledged that he originally began taking photos as a voyeur but soon was determined to “preserve the frightening, mad, unbelievable, violent, and beautiful things that were going on at the time.”[22] In his work, the dilapidated warehouses frame and enhance the narratives of sexual liberation and exploration of identity. The photographs, similar to the physical space, transcend societal norms and provide a visual arena for the free expression of queerness. Baltrop's documentation serves as an archival testimony to the liberation experienced within the piers, offering a glimpse and preserving the transient existence of a queer heterotopic space.
While documenting this space, Baltrop often used a makeshift harness to hang himself from the ceiling’s beams to capture unique and unexplored angles, waiting for hours to take the perfect shot. This high-angle view, as seen in Untitled (Fig. 1), a photo of a deserted warehouse with a single man in a spot of light, amplifies the cavernous expanse of the space and reveals the lack of privacy provided by the structure’s crisscrossing supports.[23] A male body, nude from the waist down, is illuminated by natural light filtering into the building through a hole cut into the wall for Gordon Matta-Clark’s architectural art installation.[24] The photograph was taken during the day, yet the space is shrouded in shadow, making it hard to discern the floor from the rafters. We are on the same plane as the beams, which form leading lines that continue toward a single point on the horizon, never reaching it. Instead, they fade into a bright and highlighted spot at the center top of the image. Baltrop captured many photographs using this beam of light to project focus onto different elements of his subject matter. Through high-angled shots and dramatic lighting, the figures stand out amidst the decay, emphasizing the vastness of the industrial space and the isolation of queer bodies within it.
Figure 1. Baltrop, Alvin. Untitled (from The Piers series), 1975-86, black and white photograph. In Mixed Use, Manhattan: Photography and Related Practices, 1970s to the Present. Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, 2010, plate 44.
In Baltrop’s photographs, bodies are often pictured at a distance, becoming one with the structural ruin. The skeleton of the warehouses—the beams, cracking floorboards, and exposed interiors—take precedence in photographs such as Untitled (Fig. 2).[25] The bodies of two men engaging in a sexual act are almost invisible amidst the ruin, their bodies the same shade as the beams. The architecture surrounds the figures, almost overtaking them, making it hard to discern the bodies from the backdrop. This artistic choice provides more dignity to the subject and protects an aspect of privacy. In this way, Baltrop’s photography reveals the intricate connection between this queer heterotopic space and the people who frequented it. Some found more acceptance and a sense of home in this perilous atmosphere than within conventional city spaces. His photographs seamlessly blend individual identity with the surrounding space, emphasizing the collective force of queerness within this marginal space.
Figure 2. Baltrop, Alvin. Untitled (from The Piers series), 1975-86., black and white photograph. In Alvin Baltrop: The Piers, TF Editores, 2015.
However, in other photographs, he is on par with the subject, revealing his eventual familiarity with them, ultimately illustrating his acceptance into the community from outsider to insider. In Untitled (Fig. 3), two men are centered in the photo, level with the camera.[26] They are framed by an open doorway, and rotting wood planks lie around them, scattered across the floor. This compositional choice of framing draws attention to the human subjects but reveals the distance that remains between them and the camera. One man is squatting down, performing an act of oral sex with another man who is standing. The positioning of their bodies forms a visually complex curvature distinct from the harshness of the surrounding space. The photograph’s intrigue originates from the juxtaposition of soft curves against the strong and linear elements of the architecture. Baltrop’s gaze is, at times, voyeuristic; however, it seems to emanate from a place of interest and desire that is not intrusive. Even when his photographs capture individuals at a close range, he acts as a fly on the wall—observing and preserving intimate moments with a sense of privacy. This sense of privacy stems from how he frames his photographs, using elements of the surrounding architecture and the distance he leaves between them. Evidently, a sense of trust was established between Baltrop and his subjects due to his immersion and familiarity with the culture of the piers.
Figure 3. Baltrop, Alvin. Untitled (from The Piers series), 1975-86., black and white photograph. In Alvin Baltrop: The Piers, TF Editores, 2015.
Conclusion
Baltrop’s oeuvre presents the resiliency of queer identity in the face of adversity and marginalization. He provides an intimate look into the clandestine activities enabled by the architectural ruin and separation of the piers. His identity as a Black bi-sexual man enabled him to become at home with his subject matter. The Piers is a deeply moving record, vividly documenting and preserving a distinct chapter in the history of queer culture in New York City. With the onset of the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s, the dwindling presence of the gay community marked a somber shift, and the subsequent demolition of the piers in 1991 symbolized the definitive end of an era. After their demolition, the area was replaced by luxury condos, entertainment centers, and a museum, forever changing the urban landscape.[27]
The decaying structures of industrial architecture are a testament to the city's history and the prevailing marginalization ingrained in its environment. Through his work, Baltrop not only documents the physical decay but also captures the essence of freedom and authenticity this space provided those whose identities existed in the margins of both Manhattan society and mainstream queer culture. The dilapidated piers served as a sexual arena while also providing the queer community with a unique space that shielded them from prejudice prevalent in public spaces. Photography serves as an important method of visual preservation, providing valuable insight into an alternative side to an era of gay culture that, due to its lack of acceptance in a broader context, might have remained relatively obscure if not for the contributions of photographers such as Alvin Baltrop. His photography is a powerful tribute to the underbelly of New York City queer culture in the 1970s and 80s that brings to light a “long-forgotten world at the city's dilapidated margins.”[28]
Endnotes
[1] Grace Dunham, “The Overlooked Brilliance of Alvin Baltrop, the West Side Piers’ Voyeur-in-Chief,” in The Village Voice, June 1, 2016. 2. https://participantinc.org/content/2-seasons/10-season-14/11-alvin-baltrop/alvin-baltrop_villagevoice_formatted.pdf.
[2] Douglas Crimp, “Alvin Baltrop: Pier Photographs, 1975-1986,” in Artforum International, September 26, 2023, https://www.artforum.com/features/alvin-baltrop-pier-photographs-1975-1986-187329/.
[3] Holland Cotter, “He Captured a Clandestine Gay Culture amid the Derelict Piers,” in The New York Times, September 24, 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/19/arts/design/alvin-baltrop-photographs.html.
[4] Crimp, “Alvin Baltrop: Pier Photographs, 1975–1986.”
[5] “Research Guides: LGBTQIA+ Studies: A Resource Guide: 1969: The Stonewall Uprising.” https://guides.loc.gov/lgbtq-studies/stonewall-era.
[6] “Research Guides: LGBTQIA+ Studies.”
[7] John Russell, “How The West Side Piers Went From Ramshackle Cruising Spot to Worldwide Destination - Queerty,” Queerty, January 29, 2024, https://www.queerty.com/west-side-piers-went-ramshackle-cruising-spot-worldwide-destination-20190627.
[8] Christopher Reed, “Imminent Domain: Queer Space in the Built Environment,” Art Journal 55, no. 4 (1996): 64–70. https://doi.org/10.2307/777657.
[9] Reed, “Imminent Domain.” 66.
[10] Reed, “Imminent Domain.” 66.
[11] Danielle Lewis et al., “The Turcot Yards: Community Encounters With a Queer Sublime,” (Doctoral Dissertation, Concordia University, 2009), https://cityaspalimpsest.concordia.ca/palimpsest_II_en/papers/Danielle_Lewis.pdf.
[12] Reed, “Imminent Domain.” 66.
[13] Fiona Anderson, "Cruising the Queer Ruins of New York's Abandoned Waterfront," in Performance Research 20, no. 3 (2015): 135-144. https://doi.org/10.1080/13528165.2015.1049047.
[14] Shivani Jadhav, “Michel Foucault’S Theory of Heterotopia,” RTF Rethinking the Future, January 12, 2023, https://www.re-thinkingthefuture.com/architectural-community/a8932-michel-foucaults-theory-of-heterotopia/.
[15] Angela Jones, “Queer Heterotopias: Homonormativity and the Future of Queerness,” in InterAlia: a Journal of Queer Studies, 2009. 4. https://doi.org/10.51897/interalia/pqbf4543.
[16] Cotter, "He Captured a Clandestine Gay Culture amid the Derelict Piers."
[17] Jones, “Queer Heterotopias: Homonormativity and the Future of Queerness.”
[18] Christoph Ribbat, “Queer and Straight Photography” in Amerikastudien / American Studies 46, no. 1 (2001): 27–39. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41157626.
[19] Cotter, "He Captured a Clandestine Gay Culture amid the Derelict Piers."
[20] Emma Drake, “The Queer Gaze in Photography,” Mindless Mag, June 13, 2022, https://www.mindlessmag.com/post/throughtherainbowtintedlense-thequeergazeinphotography.
[21] Crimp, "Alvin Baltrop: Pier Photographs, 1975-1986."
[22] Crimp, "Alvin Baltrop: Pier Photographs, 1975-1986."
[23]Alvin Baltrop, “Untitled” from The Piers.
[24] Cotter, "He Captured a Clandestine Gay Culture amid the Derelict Piers."
[25]Alvin Baltrop, “Untitled” from Mixed use, Manhattan: Photography and related practices, 1970s to the present.
[26] Baltrop, “Untitled” from Alvin Baltrop: The Piers.
[27] Cotter, "He Captured a Clandestine Gay Culture amid the Derelict Piers."
[28] “The Alvin Baltrop Trust — Third Streaming,” Third Streaming, https://www.thirdstreaming.com/alvin-baltrop-trust.