There’s just something about a limousine that’s a little bit magical. Visually, the look of a stretched-out car gliding along is already inherently whimsical, then coupled with the unknown of who is inside and going to what fabulous event adds another layer of mystique. Photographer Kathy Shorr recognized this special quality of limousines in her hometown of Brooklyn in the late 80s and began working as a combination limousine driver meets portrait photographer after studying photography at the School of Visual Arts. She rightly identified the limousine as a unique place where even the common person can feel like royalty, even just for one night, and was eager to preserve those moments in time with her camera.
Shorr’s work blurs the genre lines between documentary, portrait, and street photography, with qualities of each on full display within this series of limousine photographs. She took each of these photos during the nine months she worked as a limo driver in New York City in 1988 and 1989, capturing passengers in their most glamorous get-ups en route to celebrations of all sorts. Now, 35 years later, she’s compiled over 50 of these images in a photo book entitled Limousine, accompanied by essays by Jean Dykstra and Chris Lazotte.
I reached out to Shorr to learn more about her point of view as a photographer, the new book, and that special magic about limousines. Her responses to my questions are below, edited lightly for clarity and length.
When it comes to your photographic eye, what sort of details, characters, subjects, moments, etc. are you typically drawn to and why? What compels you to capture someone or something with your camera?
I am interested in photographing people; there are many subjects that strike a chord with me. I also feel a responsibility to photograph social concerns by presenting these complex issues from a humanistic perspective.
I am a photographer whose work is at the crossroads of documentary, street, and portrait photography. I like to tell stories, spending time getting to know my subject through the people, locations, and cultural trappings. Prior to doing Limousine, while a student at the School of Visual Arts, my thesis was on ballroom dance. I spent most of the school year visiting studios in New York City that taught dance as well as held social events where participants could dance. Much of my work is about New York City and its residents. I am particularly drawn to Brooklyn, as I was born, grew up, and went to high school there, and have happy memories of that time.
Since 2013, I have been working on the issue of gun violence in America. This work takes me all around the country, as this is an American problem not defined by one single city or town. I am currently working on the third part of my trilogy on gun violence, SHOT: We the People. The first phase was SHOT…101 Survivors of Gun Violence in America, the second, SHOT: We the Mothers Philadelphia and Miami, and now SHOT: We the Community. The projects include shooting survivors and mothers who lost children to gun violence, and currently, I am working with communities that have had school shootings. My goal is to bring all three projects with 200+ survivors of gun violence to Washington DC, where our legislators can look at the faces of their fellow Americans affected by this public health epidemic and enact/enforce responsible gun laws.
What is it about the environment of the limousine, in particular, that made that space such a fruitful place for you to take portraits? What sort of behavior and activity is unique to the backseat of a limousine, that you wouldn’t have been able to capture anywhere else?
The limousine was an intimate environment that brought strangers together— myself as the driver and my passengers. An element of trust between the parties was natural— the passengers trusted me to chauffeur them back and forth to their celebrations, and I trusted them to be respectful of me and the vehicle. This enabled us to connect quickly, making certain boundaries, like conversations between strangers much easier to cross. The passengers were happy knowing their day would be celebratory, filled with friends and family. They wore nice clothes; everyone was groomed and looking their best. If you feel that you look your best, you are much more agreeable to having your photograph taken.
Having those that I wish to photograph feel at ease is always something that I strive to create.
As the driver, the partition between the front and back of the car is a screen that opens and closes; it’s not soundproof. This feature allowed me to be an “audio voyeur,” as the conversation from the back of the car carried through to the front. It was fascinating to hear some of these interactions that drifted through the partition. The backseat is like a mini living room, and comfortable behavior becomes the norm. This afforded me, as the photographer, the almost instant ability to connect with the passengers, and them with me. Having those that I wish to photograph feel at ease is always something that I strive to create.
What was the process like for curating the photos for this book? How did you make those selections?
This has been a project that’s been with me for quite a while, and one that I’ve always wanted to make into a book. It has been seen throughout the years in shows and in print, and the response is always so positive. This energy from the public has kept pushing me to follow my dream to make this book.
As a photographer, it’s important to show your work to others both in and out of the field to get a sense of what is appealing to them. Most of the time, they are the images that you have determined are your best, but sometimes not. I had a book proposal that I created with some trusted individuals and sent to Lazy Dog Press at the end of 2023. I had met the director, Riccardo Bello, in Italy earlier in the year, and knew they had an appreciation for more recent, vintage photography. They liked the project, and we communicated back and forth about images and ideas for the presentation of the work in a book format. There is always a give and take in this process.
In addition, I wanted to have two essays in the book and asked Jean Dykstra, a wonderful writer about photography, and Chris LeZotte, a historian on women and cars, to participate.
What sort of experience do you hope viewers of the book have with it?
I hope the viewers have a sense of connection with the photographs that recall those happy and positive feelings that special events add to our lives. I believe there will be a feeling of nostalgia that may bring a laugh of recognition, a mutual sense of love and connection, and perhaps a longing for simpler times. One of the first observations is the lack of cell phones and screens. The passengers are all very present in the moment with each other. The lack of distraction and real connection is very evident; something that is now unheard of, as the phone is inescapable in 2025 when photographing. Smoking and afternoon drinking also add to the mood.
The passengers are all very present in the moment with each other. The lack of distraction and real connection is very evident; something that is now unheard of, as the phone is inescapable in 2025 when photographing.
This was a time when a working or middle-class person could live like a wealthy person, if only for the day. The limousine was affordable and within reach, especially if there were passengers splitting the bill. The limousine really was a “People’s Limousine.” The wealthy and the working class could afford the ride.
The beautiful limousine was also very inviting to those who were in its vicinity when it stopped. Children and adults always came by to peer in the windows, ask me questions, and even sit in the back seat. It was democratic, an equal pleasure not to be envied, but imagined that one day you too would rent one. Today, there is very little that a working-class person can afford, even just for the day, that would make them feel rich and equal. Think about those big, black SUVs that have now become the cars of the wealthy. Would you approach one to peer inside? Or would you even want to sit in the back seat of one of these no-nonsense, austere vehicles that are meant to put distance between the passengers and those outside of the car? We now have a society that wants to keep those who have money away from those who don’t.
We now have a society that wants to keep those who have money away from those who don’t.
When looking back on your experience taking these limousine photographs, is there one moment, person, or photograph that sticks out to you as being the most interesting or compelling, over 35 years later?
I drove the limousine for nine months and met many wonderful people. It’s always difficult to single out events or times that imprint deeper in your memories. Here are a few:
A teenage prom couple who, on a balmy June night, asked me to just drive around Central Park after their prom. I opened the windows in the front of the car and put Mozart’s “Magic Flute” in the tape deck. Within minutes, the car started rocking back and forth.
At the time, there was a talk show called The Morton Downey Show, which was the first brash, in-your-face, vulgar daytime show on TV. One night, I picked up Mr. Downey and his wife and was shocked to find he was as sweet a man as could be. He talked and sang to me (he had a beautiful voice) all the way from Chelsea to Fort Lee, NJ. (His wife fell asleep as soon as she got in the car.) When they got out of the limousine, he handed me a $100 bill.
Most of my passengers were working class, but one client was an upper-class man who lived in a Park Slope brownstone and was going to propose to his girlfriend. I was told that I had to purchase flowers for him to present to her, and to make sure that I was in front of the Times Square billboard by a certain time, as the proposal was going to be on the screen briefly and only once. Feeling a lot of pressure to get to Times Square, we arrived at the billboard early, the proposal came up, she said “yes,” he gave her the bouquet, and I drove them to dinner. When they exited the car, the man did not give me a tip.
The four gentlemen who are on the cover of the book were just the kind of guys I grew up with— Italian-American, beautifully coiffed, patent leather shoes, Pierre Cardin socks, fun and flirtatious. They gave me a big tip.
The post Kathy Shorr Worked as a Limo Driver in 1980s NYC to Photograph her Passengers appeared first on PRINT Magazine.