brandon stanton

Brandon Stanton and Lin-Manuel Miranda

A few years ago the blog Humans of New York posted a picture of Lin Manuel Miranda, his wife, and their baby the day after he was born.

Tonight I had the opportunity to hear a speech by Brandon Stanton, and was fortunate to be able to ask him about this photo.

After In The Heights was on Broadway, and in the six year Lin had disappeared to work on Hamilton, Lin messaged Stanton on twitter, telling him that if he was ever in Washington Heights. Stanton didn’t know who he was, but kept it in his mind.

A little while later, Stanton was in Washington Heights, and in need of a Spanish Translator.  So he messaged Lin on Twitter, seeing if he was around.

That was the day that Lin and his wife had returned with their son from the hospital, and that is the story behind the photo.

Stanton didn’t know who Lin was at the time, but he does now.


Photographing the Humans of New York

This story was produced in partnership with New York magazine.

If there’s such a thing as a typical path to becoming an artist, Brandon Stanton didn’t take it. No art school. No photography classes. No dropping out of college. Instead, the 28-year-old Georgia native landed a job as a bond trader in Chicago after betting $3,000 in student loans that Barack Obama would win the 2008 Democratic nomination. When he was later fired from the trading gig during the recession, he took another gamble: street photography. “I enjoy taking risks, whether it be trading bonds or moving to New York and stopping strangers on the street,” says the creator of Humans of New York. And so, with enough savings to live for a single month, Stanton launched a photo blog that proves it’s the city’s people – not the big lights – that inspire. “I just went out there with no idea what I was doing and decided to take 100,000 photos. I learned by being really bad at photography – over and over and over and over again.” His audience doesn’t seem to think it’s so bad.

How do you choose who you photograph?

I think the biggest misconception is how much I walk. People look at the photos and say, “God, crazy people are everywhere in New York.” But I’ll pass 1,000 people before I take a photograph.

Do people ever turn you down?

All the time. That’s one of the things that makes Humans of New York different. There are lots of street portraits out there, but they’re filled with the young fashionable demographic. Those people never turn me down because those people all want to be photographed. Where it gets trickier is venturing into the demographics where people aren’t walking out the door expecting to be photographed. That’s what makes this photography difficult – dealing with the human element. Rejection just flows off me now.

Captioning seems, in a way, just as important to you as the photo itself.

A lot of the quality in my content comes from the caption. The most popular photos are, meh, average. I messed them up. But then afterwards I’ll be having a conversation with a person and they’ll give me a great line. A great quote can really carry a bad photo.

Any advice for young artists?

For the first year and a half, I photographed every single day. The time I was most devoted to it was the time the least amount of people were paying attention. And that’s really what you’ve got to do to be an artist today. With so many people competing for attention – everybody has a digital camera, everybody has a Tumblr account – you’ve got to be willing to do a lion’s share of the work before anybody notices you. I didn’t leave New York. I photographed on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, I was on a train at midnight on New Years Eve. That’s really what it takes, and a belief that it’s gong to be good. Even if your parents don’t like it, even if your friends don’t believe in it, you’ve got to believe it’s beautiful. And you got to do it over and over and over again before anybody’s going to care.

Do you have another job?

This is it. I sell prints from time to time to raise money. But basically I view my goal as being achieved, which is being able to do what I love every day and take photos. I’m not rushing towards anything. I’ve got an audience for my work and I just like being out here every day. And let’s be honest: I live on very little. I eat cat food.

Jon Groat

We love that Brandon Stanton, through his work on Humans of New York, has allowed people to have honest conversations. 

We hope this girl finds compassion for her younger self.

We hope that, when you meet someone living with a mental illness, you are able to understand and accept instead of reacting against them. 

People need other people.

(via Humans of New York

Just work. Don’t wait. Everybody’s waiting until they have the perfect idea to start working. Even if you have an inkling of what you want to do, start moving towards it. And it’s going to flesh itself out through the process of moving towards the goal. And by the time you get to where you’re going to be, it’s not going to look anything like it did when you sat on the couch thinking about it. And if you wait until it’s perfect in your head before you get of the couch and start working on it, that’s never going to happen.
—  Brandon Stanton of Humans of New York, speaking with Time.

So Greg Pembroke of Reasons My Son is Crying  reached out to me and asked if I was willing and able to throw in his son Charlie into my project Drawing the Humans of New York .  I actually came across Charlie thanks to Brandon earlier, as I’d been following HONY for quite some time on Facebook  and learned of RMSIC at that point.  

I was happy to do this painting of Charlie as to widen the range of age of people who I were illustrating courtesy of Brandon’s work.  Also, such an expression is not one I’d tackled yet (which I must say it felt rather sad to illustrate such emotion!) and here we are.  

Anyway, Greg, I hope you enjoy!  And again, major thanks to Brandon (as always for snapping up the original shot 


Brandon Stanton, the lens, brains, and beautiful heart behind the wonderful Humans of New York, on his process and why storytelling is the centerpiece of photography.