Andy Levin: Coney Island Days

I can walk there in my mind's eye, ,past the old wooden pier, fishing lines extended, buckets filled with crabs, up toward the Parachute Jump and the Boardwalk, the cool damp sand underneath, a light garden where lovers wrap, bundles of clothing hang in plastic lit up like jellyfish, perverts up skirt-looking, a sideshow by the seashore, all happening on the inside, freaks and curiousities, two headed babies, masses of humanity exploding in the water, amidst disposable diapers and unsanitary napkins, mermaids parade. Coney Island, destination for the dishwashers, maids, and delivery boys who ride the F train on their Sunday off, clutching coolers and baby carriages and return with stuffed dolls and cotton candy faces, eyes closed, sleeping up tightly against each other, as fireworks explode past the Wonderwheel, in amazement.

Andy Levin photographed Coney Island from 1986 to 1996, and returns there when he visits New York from his home in New Orleans.