For Vergara, New York's chaotic streets became an ideal laboratory for self-discovery and storytelling. After arriving in America from Chile in 1965, he was immersed in a world of stark contrasts – white suburban bliss juxtaposed with Black and Latino urban realities. Deindustrialization, job losses, and store closures loomed large on the city's horizon.
It was these tumultuous times that Vergara felt an affinity for, having grown up in a Chile beset by economic turmoil. Walking the streets of New York became both exhilarating and treacherous. Desperation lurked around every corner, yet his photographs captured moments of quiet defiance – children playing, dogs trotting by their owners' sides, their owners proudly adorned in makeshift finery.
In 1970, Vergara chanced upon this poignant scene: a group standing before the looming towers of a housing project on a vacant lot. Behind them stood the tracks of a subway line, an invisible divide between worlds. It was as if he had stumbled upon a tableau of contrasts – the grandeur of America's urban sprawl and the quiet lives lived in its margins.
Vergara's New York series is not merely a record of a bygone era but also an act of preservation. Amidst the city's decay, he sought to capture its entire urban reality: from the towering skyscrapers to the intricate details that often went unseen. These photographs were his attempt to hold onto something that seemed irrevocably slipping away – a snapshot in time before New York lost much of its vitality.
For Vergara, this was more than just photography; it was about telling a story. His lens revealed moments of beauty and resilience amidst the chaos, providing insight into the lives lived behind the urban façade.
It was these tumultuous times that Vergara felt an affinity for, having grown up in a Chile beset by economic turmoil. Walking the streets of New York became both exhilarating and treacherous. Desperation lurked around every corner, yet his photographs captured moments of quiet defiance – children playing, dogs trotting by their owners' sides, their owners proudly adorned in makeshift finery.
In 1970, Vergara chanced upon this poignant scene: a group standing before the looming towers of a housing project on a vacant lot. Behind them stood the tracks of a subway line, an invisible divide between worlds. It was as if he had stumbled upon a tableau of contrasts – the grandeur of America's urban sprawl and the quiet lives lived in its margins.
Vergara's New York series is not merely a record of a bygone era but also an act of preservation. Amidst the city's decay, he sought to capture its entire urban reality: from the towering skyscrapers to the intricate details that often went unseen. These photographs were his attempt to hold onto something that seemed irrevocably slipping away – a snapshot in time before New York lost much of its vitality.
For Vergara, this was more than just photography; it was about telling a story. His lens revealed moments of beauty and resilience amidst the chaos, providing insight into the lives lived behind the urban façade.