I went to America last year and made friends with Star, a tall, twee elderly guy with an afro. This is his house in New Orleans: such crumbling, 1920s architecture is typical of the south. Star grew up in New Orleans at the height of the jazz age, when it was known as the Big Sleazy. It was a party destination, with people flocking to its clubs and casinos from all over the US.
Star’s grandmother ran a brothel from this house, with girls working in different rooms. When he hit his teens, Star fled to California and worked as an orange picker. Then his grandmother died and he inherited the house. He drove back in that old blue Cadillac you can see out front and was in the middle of renovating the building when he heard Hurricane Katrina was coming. So he escaped to Texas – that’s why the car survived – but the building was mashed. You can see all the detritus from the storm on the kerb on the left, still there almost 10 years on. He was given a huge grant to fix his house, but there’s been a lot of corruption. The contractors did a terrible patch-up job then disappeared. He’s trying to fix the electrics with what little cash he has left.
The girl is called Angel. I met her in a club in the French quarter. I thought the two of them would get on. So, one Saturday afternoon, I suggested we all go out for burgers. I’d just dropped them back at Star’s house and was about to drive away when I saw Angel walking off, just as the sun was going down. I grabbed my camera and took a shot.
People who see this picture always think Angel is a hooker, but that’s not true at all. She’s Liberian, her parents came from Africa a few years ago to start a new life, and she was studying nursing. The clothes are just a fashion thing. It was a Saturday night, she was going out clubbing, and if you’re young and into hip-hop in New Orleans, that’s the look.
This is part of a series I took all over America called The Gods – a celebration of the culture and community around hip-hop. I photographed people in strip clubs, on the streets and in gangs. There are no nine-to-five jobs. It’s a good life while you’re young, but it doesn’t always work out. A lot of the guys end up in prison or dead. The Gods is the name given to older hustlers who made it: they survived the streets and prison – and now they’re the big boys.
Angel wasn’t like that, though. She spent most of her time studying. She went out to clubs and parties, but it was different for her because she wasn’t born in New Orleans. When you migrate, everything is fresh and positive and you want to make the most of it. A lot of the people I shot – their grandparents had been slaves. When you’re in the south, that’s very recent history.
- Interview by Jenny Stevens. The Gods is at the PM/AM Gallery, London, until 31 July.
CV
Born: 1979, Perth, Scotland.
Studied: Edinburgh University
High point: “Exhibiting The Gods in London.”
Low point: “Witnessing a young man in a car die in a shootout in Miami.”
Top tip: “Technology is a red herring. It’s about what you point your camera at.”
