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Being Seen Inside an Unseen World

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A young man painted in blue fixes his eyes on the photographer before him. But before the portrait is made, he peeks in the mirror, retouches his lipstick and brushes away a few strands of white and blue hair from his face. He spent weeks preparing his wig and outfit â€" a shimmering handmade gown of plastic shower curtains and yellow buttons â€" all in hopes of taking home the title, and maybe some money, as “Butch Queen Bizarre.”

Gerard H. Gaskin took only four frames before he slipped out of the room, leaving the blue man, Tez, to prepare for his moment at the Evisu house ball in Manhattan.

“He was about to go on stage and I didn’t want to bother him too much,” Mr. Gaskin said. “These competitions are known to get really intense sometimes.”

DESCRIPTIONGerard H. Gaskin Tez, Evisu Ball. Manhattan. 2010.

And that has kept the Trinidadian photographer just as intensely busy. Mr. Gaskin has spent the last two decades documenting the sensual and energetic underground scene of house balls, late-night pageants where gay and transgender men and women compete in categories based on attitude, costume and dance moves. Each image takes you deeper into an often unseen world: a young man putting on his final touches of makeup before gracing the ballroom stage (Slide 5), a woman dressed in a suit, gently gripping her girlfriend at her side.

The participants, mostly black and Latino young men, have often been marginalized by society and their families. But at the house balls, they support one another as they explore their gender identity through extravagant dress and glamour.

A collection of Mr. Gaskin’s ballroom images earned him the 2012 First Book Prize in Photography, given by the Center for Documentary Studies and the Honickman Foundation. As part of the award, the photographs were collected in a new book out this month, “Legendary: Inside the House Ballroom Scene.”

“For members of New York City’s underground house-ball community, being photographed by Gerard H. Gaskin is a rite of passage: All of the legendary children appear in front of his lens at some point or another,” Frank Roberts, a writer and gay rights activist, wrote in an essay published in “Legendary.” “Gaskin has become the Trinidadian Andy Warhol of this scene.”

Mr. Gaskin’s interest in the scene dates to his childhood in Trinidad, where the streets were overrun by elaborately dressed revelers at carnival every year. But some of his original hesitations also were from his upbringing in a highly religious community. “I had to get comfortable in my own skin,” he said, “like getting used to men hitting on me and not being bothered.”

DESCRIPTIONGerard H. Gaskin Gisele, Latex Ball. Manhattan. 2008.

When Mr. Gaskin, 45, first started following the ball scene, being accepted by the participants was more difficult than he expected. He had a friend who worked as a costume designer at some of the events, but when he wasn’t around, Mr. Gaskin had no other friends or contacts to keep him informed. “I imagine, they thought, who is this heterosexual male in our space,” he said, “and what does he want here?”

Without their acceptance, Mr. Gaskin had to rely on fliers he found at area nightclubs, promoting where the next ball would take place. But the information would constantly change, and he often found himself outside of locked venues because of a canceled or relocated show.

Over time, members of the scene took notice of him. He became more confident and universally known as “Cameraman.” He eventually started getting personal invitations to secret balls in New York, Philadelphia, Richmond, Va., and Washington, D.C.

Glancing through his archives, Mr. Gaskin said that not much has changed with the format of the ballroom competitions over the last two decades. But with the Internet and social media, it has become a lot easier to track budding ballroom communities across the country.

When his publisher announced that he wanted to use the image of the blue man for the cover of his book, Mr. Gaskin panicked. He had taken the photo of Tez (top) three years earlier, and in a rush, did not take down his contact information.

He went straight for the message boards on several group pages on Facebook, asking his contacts in the ball community if they could identify Tez’s photo. Within three weeks, Tez contacted Mr. Gaskin, happily agreeing to participate in his book.

“That exchange just would not have happened in the early ’90s,” Mr. Gaskin said of reconnecting with Tez. “There is no way I would have found him so quickly, if at all.”

Mr. Gaskin also feels that the Internet has also allowed the ballroom scene to become more accepted in mainstream culture. His work, which he also shares via social media, has been a way to further engage the public about ball culture, and with his book, he hopes that the dialogue continues.

“To me, the book is a celebration of this community,” said Mr. Gaskin, who now lives in Syracuse. “When outside people look at these images, I want them to see a beautiful space that these people created for themselves to judge who they are and who they want to be.”

Photos from Gerard H. Gaskin’s “Legendary: Inside the House Ballroom Scene” will be on view at the W Hotel on Lexington Avenue in Manhattan from Dec. 1 through 31.

Follow @Whitney_Rich and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.



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Follow Lens on Facebook and Twitter.



Pictures of the Day: Bulgaria and Elsewhere

#flashHeader{visibility:visible !important;}

Photos from Virginia, the Philippines, China and Bahrain.

Follow Lens on Facebook and Twitter.



Being Seen Inside an Unseen World

#flashHeader{visibility:visible !important;}

A young man painted in blue fixes his eyes on the photographer before him. But before the portrait is made, he peeks in the mirror, retouches his lipstick and brushes away a few strands of white and blue hair from his face. He spent weeks preparing his wig and outfit â€" a shimmering handmade gown of plastic shower curtains and yellow buttons â€" all in hopes of taking home the title, and maybe some money, as “Butch Queen Bizarre.”

Gerard H. Gaskin took only four frames before he slipped out of the room, leaving the blue man, Tez, to prepare for his moment at the Evisu house ball in Manhattan.

“He was about to go on stage and I didn’t want to bother him too much,” Mr. Gaskin said. “These competitions are known to get really intense sometimes.”

DESCRIPTIONGerard H. Gaskin Tez, Evisu Ball. Manhattan. 2010.

And that has kept the Trinidadian photographer just as intensely busy. Mr. Gaskin has spent the last two decades documenting the sensual and energetic underground scene of house balls, late-night pageants where gay and transgender men and women compete in categories based on attitude, costume and dance moves. Each image takes you deeper into an often unseen world: a young man putting on his final touches of makeup before gracing the ballroom stage (Slide 5), a woman dressed in a suit, gently gripping her girlfriend at her side.

The participants, mostly black and Latino young men, have often been marginalized by society and their families. But at the house balls, they support one another as they explore their gender identity through extravagant dress and glamour.

A collection of Mr. Gaskin’s ballroom images earned him the 2012 First Book Prize in Photography, given by the Center for Documentary Studies and the Honickman Foundation. As part of the award, the photographs were collected in a new book out this month, “Legendary: Inside the House Ballroom Scene.”

“For members of New York City’s underground house-ball community, being photographed by Gerard H. Gaskin is a rite of passage: All of the legendary children appear in front of his lens at some point or another,” Frank Roberts, a writer and gay rights activist, wrote in an essay published in “Legendary.” “Gaskin has become the Trinidadian Andy Warhol of this scene.”

Mr. Gaskin’s interest in the scene dates to his childhood in Trinidad, where the streets were overrun by elaborately dressed revelers at carnival every year. But some of his original hesitations also were from his upbringing in a highly religious community. “I had to get comfortable in my own skin,” he said, “like getting used to men hitting on me and not being bothered.”

DESCRIPTIONGerard H. Gaskin Gisele, Latex Ball. Manhattan. 2008.

When Mr. Gaskin, 45, first started following the ball scene, being accepted by the participants was more difficult than he expected. He had a friend who worked as a costume designer at some of the events, but when he wasn’t around, Mr. Gaskin had no other friends or contacts to keep him informed. “I imagine, they thought, who is this heterosexual male in our space,” he said, “and what does he want here?”

Without their acceptance, Mr. Gaskin had to rely on fliers he found at area nightclubs, promoting where the next ball would take place. But the information would constantly change, and he often found himself outside of locked venues because of a canceled or relocated show.

Over time, members of the scene took notice of him. He became more confident and universally known as “Cameraman.” He eventually started getting personal invitations to secret balls in New York, Philadelphia, Richmond, Va., and Washington, D.C.

Glancing through his archives, Mr. Gaskin said that not much has changed with the format of the ballroom competitions over the last two decades. But with the Internet and social media, it has become a lot easier to track budding ballroom communities across the country.

When his publisher announced that he wanted to use the image of the blue man for the cover of his book, Mr. Gaskin panicked. He had taken the photo of Tez (top) three years earlier, and in a rush, did not take down his contact information.

He went straight for the message boards on several group pages on Facebook, asking his contacts in the ball community if they could identify Tez’s photo. Within three weeks, Tez contacted Mr. Gaskin, happily agreeing to participate in his book.

“That exchange just would not have happened in the early ’90s,” Mr. Gaskin said of reconnecting with Tez. “There is no way I would have found him so quickly, if at all.”

Mr. Gaskin also feels that the Internet has also allowed the ballroom scene to become more accepted in mainstream culture. His work, which he also shares via social media, has been a way to further engage the public about ball culture, and with his book, he hopes that the dialogue continues.

“To me, the book is a celebration of this community,” said Mr. Gaskin, who now lives in Syracuse. “When outside people look at these images, I want them to see a beautiful space that these people created for themselves to judge who they are and who they want to be.”

Photos from Gerard H. Gaskin’s “Legendary: Inside the House Ballroom Scene” will be on view at the W Hotel on Lexington Avenue in Manhattan from Dec. 1 through 31.

Follow @Whitney_Rich and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.