Aubrey J. Kauffman: Photographer and Family Man

 Aubrey J. Kauffman: Photographer and Family Man

A cool girl in black is leaning into her mirror. She carefully rims her eyes in a chalky, kohl smudge. Dressed rather casually and informal in a flannel, leggings and loose combat boots, a reflection of her collegiate years and Indie spirit, she begins to describe a favorite artist of hers. “My Uncle Gerald is really corky, you know”?  She says in a loud raspy response. “ He has a very witty sarcasm, He’s really unique—he’s just different,” she says pushing her blunt shaggy bangs behind her ear. She continues, “He walks to the beat of his own drum. He’s really passionate about his work though, he’s very serious”, now stuffing her long strap satchel with her routine essentials.
    This is how I first became interested in Gerald Kaufman’s work. While the girl’s somewhat scattered and ambiguous description of the artist make it difficult to gauge just what kind of artist he is, her description was certainly becoming. I was interested to find out just who this Uncle Gerald is. What makes him so unique?  I happen to have a couple of male family members in mind that I’d hold in such high regard. What makes his work particularly passionate? But this pseudo captivating characterization from a girl seemingly exhibiting an acute cultural taste—or at least putting on a convincing enough front, was enough to spark my interest.
    Trenton, New Jersey is an average town by anyone’s standards. The not-quite-city hosts it’s politico-intellectual side of town, near the museum and other “city attractions”. It also holds its rougher side of town, walls of graffiti, sirens, and an alarmingly growing gang population. There are quiet streets with considerably large homes and children in public schools and there are run-down buildings with barred windows and drug addicts. Put simply, it’s night and day. This contrast is manifested in “Uncle Gerald”.
    Better known as Aubrey J. Kaufman. On the surface, he appears just as the city he’s grown up in, average. A cameraman for NJN—New Jersey Network, Mr. Kaufman has photography on the side. One of his niece, the cool, eyeliner-girl, describes his photos, as “it’s a hobby you know but he really likes going into raw environments and just shoots. There’s no editing, special effects, nothing. He really just shoots what he sees”.  So just what does this cool-girl certified photographer see? I spent two days attempting to figure that out.
Aubrey Kauffman, known by those closest to him as Gerald, is instantly recognizable as a product of the unextraordinary city of Trenton, New Jersey. “I grew up in Trenton…I have two brothers, one younger, one older. I’m the middle child” he describes unanimated-ly and without warmth sitting in his worn wooden swivel chair, the focal point of his otherwise mundane office in his home in Ewing, NJ. He continues with haste, leaving little time or room for any sort of inquisitive snooping about his most intimate personal years. “I went to high school in Trenton, at Trenton Central High School…I think your dad went there, is that right?” he pauses, a rare instance for Mr. Kauffman who comes off quiet but certainly not shy. His gap in conversation reveals a retrospective moment for this community man, a moment of remembering the generations of men and women in a community he’s never left. His brow becomes heavy from trying to recall the many faces he might be overlooking.
The task must be overwhelming, as his wrinkles beneath his bushy brow relax, and he continues telling of his childhood. “ In any case, I lived on 12 Chapel St. right in North Trenton. Both of my parents passed so I don’t have much family left here but now I’ve kind of created my own. I’ve really only been married once, and that’s to Mic now. We don’t have any children. We got married when we were older so I was in my late 50s. I have two nieces from my older brother though and I really think of them as my daughters. I put as much into them as I would into my own child”.
Talking of the two girls ignites a bright, slightly jagged smile on artist’s dark, pourous face, seemingly proving to be the most public display of affection shown by this somewhat reclusive personality.  It lingers for a moment, then fades, as he reaches for sip of iced tea from his faded NJN mug.
Aubrey Kauffman’s house in Ewing, NJ reflects a sort of warmth missing from the artist’s personality. Like most other streets in the Ewing area, a small neighboring town of Trenton, Kauffman’s home that he shares with his wife of thirteen years, Mic, provokes a loving and inviting atmosphere that the artist must be immersed in at home.
Since delving into his personal life seemed not to be a priority on Mr. Kauffman’s interview list, garnering some insight from his wife of over a decade sheds some light. His wife Mic, sitting in the couple’s small TV room, is a pretty woman but not in the most obvious way. Her hair is short and buzzed, drawing attention to her enviably dewy golden complexion scattered with moles and large, glassy eyes. Her demeanor is calm yet austere, enveloping herself in a consistent wardrobe of wrap sweaters and chino pants accessorized with a tense stare.   “ A touching story about Gerald’s family is that, once his mother passed, his father was in perfect health. He’d never had any sort of health related complications or anything like that. So once his mother passed, his father followed two days after. It’s believed by those living in the community around during that time that he died of a broken heart.” she details in a compassionate yet distant manner.
Touched for a moment by the beauty of the story, Mic turns to look at Gerald. Though he appears unaware, mechanically pouring himself another cup of cold brew, only peering up to cast a blank look, she smiles with the same hint of affection shown by her husband only moments ago. In this instant, the love between the two is palpable.
Chiming in for fear of sounding to have an alarmingly loveless childhood, or just in an escape from trying to get too “mushy” Mr. Kauffman leads our conversation into a new direction, and consequently back into his home office.
He adjusts the seat cover of his working-chair, a nondescript foam cushion, sliced open at the center. As he bends to sit in the chair, he adjusts his bottom until he feels just right, before settling into the chair. His chocolate hued pants graze the top of his ankles, revealing high gray socks, uncomplimentary of his nondescript tan button down and plain baseball cap. 
“ Do you work up here a lot?” I ask, combing the room’s nonexistent artistic furnishings aside from a few photography books, as well as his wife’s pleasurable readings, placed orderly into a bookshelf. An unidentifiable stack of papers lays on the right side of his desk. “Yes, I do. I usually work on my private projects here and I also work at one of the studio’s at NJN.” He responds, very candidly.
“Since we’re on the subject of NJN, How did you get started working there?”. “This is the only job I’ve really had. I started as a production assistant and worked my way up to being one of the main cameramen for the station. I’ve been working there for… I guess it would be about 27 years now.”  This is quite an accomplishment for most people’s standards, particularly in today’s economy where a job with such longevity has become somewhat of a scarcity. His longevity at NJN, New Jersey state’s educational television station, hosting scholarly debates and forums, educational content for children and award-winning documentaries on the state and the concerns of its citizens, the latter of which Mr. Kauffman has made invaluable contributions to over his near 30-year career at the station, is a testament to his considerable accomplishments over the years.  He has served on multiple photography boards for the City of Trenton as well as the State of New Jersey, exhibiting his work throughout the tri-state region, most notably at the state museum in the state capital.
Mr. Kauffman has never strayed far from the garden state and it’s few possibilities. “[I’ve pretty much always lived in Trenton]. I’ve done work in the cities close to here like Philadelphia but that’s about it. Now I live in Ewing but I grew up in Trenton. I moved out to Ewing in my late 30s.”  He replies in his deep, insipid voice.
For an artist with such great potential and impressive vision, this could be somewhat stifling. Mr. Kauffman doesn’t see it that way. “[I didn’t always know I wanted to go into media]. I took the job at NJN because it was a job right out of graduation. After mentoring with some of the producers and seeing some behind the scenes work I really got to develop my passion for being a cameraman. That led me into the photography. It forced me to always look at the world through a lens. To see things through another medium besides the eye. Back in my day, it wasn’t so much as being an intern, as it was you graduated and you got a job so that was my kind of take into joining media. The industry wasn’t as popular, especially in Trenton when I was graduating [from Jersey City College] so it was easier to get started” he explains as he looks up trying to recall the authenticity of the TV media industry during his young adulthood. Surprisingly, this is the first instance, where Mr. Kauffman brings up the hobby for which he has a remarkable talent: photography. 
The content of much of Mr. Kauffman’s work is strikingly minimalist. Finding inspiration in the seemingly great pillars of Trenton’s yester-years, Mr. Kauffman focuses on the architectural ambiguity of Trenton’s metropolitan construction, or lack there of.  Perhaps most extraordinary are Mr. Kauffman’s images are his black and white snapshots of the state capital’s once industrial pockets of town in his collection “Urban Landscapes” and “Shore Points”.  Photos of these old run-down buildings throughout the state mostly from neighborhoods in West Trenton, and the photographer’s hometown of North Trenton, evoke a sort of longing for the city to return to it’s once fundamental   American essence. Though they’re void of much content, Mr. Kaufman’s photographs still have a distinctive eye, one that reflects his nostalgia and appreciation for the historic, once-cherished city that raised him.
To see the photos in person is another experience. The eye, which Mr. Kauffman brings to capturing some of the cities most desolate areas, engenders an unfamiliar emotion in his audience. It is an emotion of conflict between feeling sympathetic for the city having lost its glory and a bit frightened by its lackluster appeal today.
Nobody is more aware of this conflict than Gerald Kauffman. His focus on his beloved city as the subject for many of his photographs, taken using a 4x5 view camera, reflect that uninspiring minimalism that he finds to be just the opposite. “I always liked the city. My immediate family was in Trenton but some of my cousins and aunts and uncle lived in Lawrenceville so that was different. I enjoyed the nature in Lawrenceville. It’s a more calming place than the city. I didn’t start appreciating the city until I started doing photography and could capture it.” recalls the photographer and videographer, providing an alternative perspective of the gritty urban landscape.
     “Can you talk a little bit about photography during the time you grew up? How did you become interested in it?” He clinks the few ice cubes whirling about in his cup and peers out of the door of his study. He’s looking at his wife, who has stealthily slipped upstairs to change into her workout clothes.
He pauses for function, not effect. “ Just a minute”. He gets up to assist his wife in setting up her virtual workout session. He checks to make sure all the equipment is plugged in properly, taking a knee to secure each socket with a sturdy nudge and professional air.  After a satisfactory check, he hands Mic the controllers and loiters a bit longer to make sure the program starts up correctly. Re-entering the room with his quick, slightly tense meander of a walk, he re-takes his seat. “ Sorry about that. Mic’s into the Wii now so I try to make sure everything’s plugged in and everything for her workout. I’m usually always in my study and she’s out there exercising or online. We just finished the bathroom so sometimes she’s in the jacquaoozi watching TV”, which sounds like an extravagant luxury for the modest houses surrounding and residing in Trenton. NJ.
But in Gerald and Mic’s home, a jacuzzi seems like a modest appliance, given their seemingly humble and gracious ethos as a couple, that ought to be reasonably considered in any household.

To my surprise, he remembers where we left off in the conversation. “Nobody in my family was established in the arts. So it wasn’t some great experience that most people talk about. Just happened to be something I stumbled upon in the later part of my life. It hasn’t always been my passion but I’ve learned to love it.” He continues with a gradual ease “[I became interested in it] I think from being a cameraman at NJN. From dealing with the camera I fell into photography from there. And people told me in order to be a good cameraman I had to have the eye of a photographer so I started to train my eye and tried to look at work I admired and photographers who really knew how to work the camera and use it to capture something interesting.”
Coaxing him to continue, I responded “Is that how you would say you progressed from videographer to photographer?” “It just seemed like a gradual transition from cameraman. In trying to strengthen being a good videographer I thought it’d be a good idea to start learning about photography so I started to take some beginner courses at MCCC (Mercer County Community College). My instructors were very encouraging about my skill level. That gave me confidence in my work and made me want to pursue it.”
Staying on the same subject, I prodded for a bit more detail as to how Kauffman’s’ work for NJN and his own coexist. “Having to capture the story has given me some discretion in the photography. It has taught me to look for certain things. I can really pick up on emotion, even though my photos are pretty bare. But I can capture real life events as a videographer and while I’m filming documentaries. So it helps me understand how people function better, which helps me capture them better on film."
“By film you mean...camera film not, motion camera film right?” He chuckles charmingly, well aware that his breadth of knowledge on the subject far surpasses my own. “What’s the difference in the kind of film that lets you take still pictures and create videos? Is there a difference?”. “Yeah. It’s harder to deal with video film. A photo is like a template you can work with it and restructure it. Where footage is pretty permanent. You can only do but so much.”  Surprisingly, that’s all I need to know. The specifics of a more skilled photographer lingo would only confused my non-photographer-specific audience and this non-photographer writer.
The faint instructions from Wii fit are sounding in the background of Mr. Kauffman’s dimly lit study. Then, perhaps in an unknowing but palpable instant, the tone of our conversation shifts. A certain visible change in seriousness shifts in Mr. Kauffman’s cheeks, eyes and brow. It is as if he knows the next question I’m going to ask him will require much thought. I proceeded with caution…
“ Tell me a little bit about your work process”.   He begins leisurely, “I’ll usually go shoot without a theme in mind. After developing that set of frames ill look and see what I enjoy and what my best photographs of so, then I’ll go back out and shoot again and try to capture some more of those objects or scenes that I enjoy.  I develop a theme from there. I usually just draw from my life, you know, church, my work, my family, my wife. I usually actually do a lot of my work digitally. So I’ll take pictures on my camera and transport them on a USB and from there I can print them or burn them on a CD so I’ll take it to this lab NJN uses to print them. I do most of my work in my office. I really like Sunday afternoons [for shooting].  Usually I’ll go to my class that I’m taking at Drexel in Philadelphia. Then after my class I’ll go through out Philly and take photos then I’ll head to downtown Trenton. My new thing is photographing nature so I usually go to the creek near my house so I can down by there and take pictures. I’m trying to find the minimalism in that.”
Continuing to explore this material, I lean back in my high-back antique clothed chair and ask where Mr. Kauffman finds his inspiration in, what some might call, an inspiration-less city. Mr. Kauffman takes a preparatory sip of his drink. His hastened gulping and enlarged, clear white eyes shows he can hardly wait to answer the question. “From Trenton. I think it’s really important because I am older. I grew up in a time where Trenton meant everything to the world and now Trenton means nothing in the larger world…it’s unfortunate to see it be in this very desperate state. I like showing this contrast between this progressive city that fell through. I think showing how far the city has come from being something great to now them considering getting rid of NJN is really what pulls my work. I think [with photographs] it’s just that it tells a story. My focus has been on Trenton so it helps me capture what’s going on there and to show people what’s actually going on rather than what they read on the news or the latest city rankings. There’s this rugged beauty that’s still there. The remains of a city that was. I think that’s what’s most interesting. There are still buildings where we can see that still standing so I think it’s neat to capture that.”
Engaging with his obvious passion, I ask “Is that why you’ve taken such an abstract approach to your art?” “I don’t think it’s an abstract approach as much as it’s realist. The city where we live, the architecture is abstract so that just comes to be the theme of my work. But it’s mostly about just catching the realness of city life. The reality of life in Trenton NJ. It’s a rural city almost.”
Our back-and-forth exchange continues, allowing Mr. Kauffman to keep on his roll. One it has been admittedly difficult attempting to lure him into. He takes another sip, his reaction showcasing his appreciation for small pleasures. He seems to pick his diction carefully, “When most people think of cities in the north you think of this fast-paced, metropolitan lifestyle but Trenton doesn’t mimic that. It’s a very small city. Most of the people here are very working class middle class people. It’s a city that used to be known for it’s wealth and industrialization but now it’s known, now, more recently, for its crime. In a lot of my work, I try to capture this contrast between this industrialized mentality with the poverty it is now. It was a city that used to produce some major materials in the world and now we’re the complete opposite”.
Mr. Kauffman’s family tends to gather at he and his wife’s house “ about every two Sunday’s a month” says the Smith family grandmother, known as Nana to most, who has thinning gray curly hair, thick glasses and the mole-scattered skin of Mic. Sitting next to her around the kitchen island is the cool eyeliner-girl who introduced me to the artist Id come to better know as Uncle Gerald. Even in a large family setting, Mr. Kauffman is the same reserved, concise-thinking older gentlemen I’d come to know in our in dimly lit study sessions. Being seeing him surrounded in such a loving light, a light of family was touching for his family man, a man who has spent his life capturing moments.
 Sitting slyly in the left corner of the kitchen, now limply holding a red Solo cup of Yuengling, I asked those closest to him, about him, with him, in front of him. Cool eyeliner-girl, better known as Blaire, immediately began the conversation. “My Uncle Gerald is…”, she pauses, looking around for something to accurately describe her witty Uncle. “He’s a Yuengling man!”. This generates a fair amount of laughter from the kitchen-clan. Blaire tries to create a more respectable depiction “ He just blends in. He likes beer. He’s really good at baking. He makes the best homemade ice cream, pies, brownies. His homemade vanilla is the best… What else guys? He likes gardening, landscaping, jazz music, Pieces of a Dream, right?” those gathered around the table settings for dinner looked to Uncle Gerald nestled in the corner, a spectator in the conversation about himself. He nods with validation of band’s name.
As dinner’s preparations came to a close, I had to ask him “ How do you see yourself as an artist?”  Mr. Kauffman looks up for a moment and raises his brow at the depth of the question. “I don’t really see myself as an artist. It’s like a hobby for me. I’m just lucky I got to create a career out of it also.” He answers modestly. “I think because my subject is something that people don’t really know about or already have preconceived ideas about I feel like I create a new idea of how it is to live in Trenton. To show people there are beautiful aspects of it. To show the culture in a way. Not many people are trying to capture Trenton, NJ. But my want to document what makes it, and my work different”.
As Mic pulled her salmon cakes out of the oven and declares “enough interviewing”, I couldn’t have agreed with her more, as I was the lucky one and got to bask in all of the beautiful aspects there are in Trenton, NJ on this family’s kitchen island.

For more on Kauffman and his work,  visit his website at www.aubreyjkauffman.com/