In photos: the last of New York’s pigeon racers

A chance encounter with a stalwart of New York's past saw photographer Taylor Chapman delve deep into the dying subculture.

On one August afternoon seven years ago, Taylor Chapman was exploring the back streets of Coney Island – a seaside entertainment district at the southwest tip of Brooklyn. He was working on his End of the Line project, in which he documents life on the margins of New York City via the areas surrounding its subway terminals. After reading about a ‘graveyard of ships’ online, he scrambled through a hole in a fence next to a Home Depot parking lot to Coney Island Creek, where the remains of several centuries-old ships and submarines protrude from the mouth of the Hudson River.

“It’s a dead patch of water between Coney Island and the rest of Brooklyn, and it’s full of skeletons of ships – many of them supposedly from rum runners in the 20s and 30s who would smuggle whiskey from Canada and sell it through speakeasies,” Chapman says. “I thought this was a fascinating bit of history, so I was certainly in a mode where I was transported to an old New York, a more serious and strange New York, and a wilder New York.”

Feeling like something of a time traveller as he walked back towards his starting point, Chapman saw a curious building that halted him in his tracks. Attached onto the side of a house was a shuttered building with a green awning, marked with a fading, 20th century sign featuring two white birds and the words ‘Viola PIGEON CLUB’. It was the home of a once-iconic pigeon racing club, run by a man named Frank Viola (1920-2007). He was one of the sport’s leaders in its postwar heyday, organising races where people would drive their pigeons hundreds of miles away to Ohio before releasing their pigeons and seeing which bird was the first to return to the Big Apple. But he also played a key role in the Second World War, donating his birds to the military for use as homing pigeons to carry messages over enemy lines.

“I walked up, poked around, did a bit of Googling and found Frank Viola’s obituary in the New York Times, and when I read his life story it just blew my mind,” he recalls. “I was aware of Brooklyn’s pigeon racing culture in part because my friend was involved in [a documentary] about Mike Tyson and his passion for pigeons, so I knew this was an institution and I was fascinated to encounter it in the flesh.”

The journey wouldn’t end there. Around 300 metres away in the water’s direction, Chapman came across a car junkyard, which caught his eye for its wall of lush greenery decorated with shiny red and white jewels. Directly above it sat an expansive coop populated by hundreds of pigeons. It belonged to the junkyard’s owner Slavik Haimov – one of Brooklyn’s last remaining pigeon breeders. Haimov came to meet Chapman and explained in excited detail the different varieties of pigeon that he reared, and how he would sell them to other enthusiasts at Sunday auctions.

A shot of the Viola Pigeon Club and photographs from the time he spent with Haimov is now presented in Chapman’s photography series The Pigeon Men of Brooklyn. Featuring the junkyard’s jewels and young chicks among the photos, along with tender shots of Haimov caring for his pure-bred birds (NYT described comparing racing pigeons to street pigeons as “Secretariat to a Central Park carriage horse”), the pictures provide a glimpse into a dying activity. Pigeon rearing was once a common practice along New York City’s skyline – particularly among the working classes.

“One big reason is because of New York’s tenement culture,” he explains of its historical appeal. “Until very recently the rooftops of New York were not beautiful outdoor decks where you could barbecue or sunbathe – they were tar surfaces that would get extremely hot in summer where no one wanted to spend any time. But as a result they were free and one of the only places [where] if you were a family without a lot of resources, you could build something of your own.”

It’s why for those keeping the culture alive, it’s a passion. While showing off his birds to Chapman, Haimov climbed up onto the platform of a billboard, released his pigeons and waved a giant, five-metre long stick with a red rag attached to the end in a figure-of-eight motion. “The pigeons started swirling in these arcs above him and would obey him,” Chapman says. “They were almost like his children – the pride that he took in this subculture really touched me.

“One thing I love about finding someone’s hidden passion is how it reveals a different side to them,” he continues. “As a tow truck driver and junkyard owner he’s seen a lot of hard things – repossessed cars, accidents, destruction and squabbles. But the tenderness that he showed to these fragile, light birds and the way he talked about the various breeds, admired and loved them – it reminded me that we all contain multitudes.

The Pigeon Men of Brooklyn and other photography from the End of the Line can be seen at Taylor Chapman’s website and Instagram.

Follow Isaac on Twitter.

Enjoyed this article? Follow Huck on Twitter and Instagram.

Latest on Huck

Crowd of silhouetted people at a nighttime event with colourful lighting and a bright spotlight on stage.
Music

Clubbing is good for your health, according to neuroscientists

We Become One — A new documentary explores the positive effects that dance music and shared musical experiences can have on the human brain.

Written by: Zahra Onsori

Indoor skate park with ramps, riders, and abstract architectural elements in blue, white, and black tones.
Sport

In England’s rural north, skateboarding is femme

Zine scene — A new project from visual artist Juliet Klottrup, ‘Skate Like a Lass’, spotlights the FLINTA+ collectives who are redefining what it means to be a skater.

Written by: Zahra Onsori

Black-and-white image of two men in suits, with the text "EVERYTHING IS COMPUTER" in large bright yellow letters overlaying the image.
Culture

Donald Trump says that “everything is computer” – does he have a point?

Huck’s March dispatch — As AI creeps increasingly into our daily lives and our attention spans are lost to social media content, newsletter columnist Emma Garland unpicks the US President’s eyebrow-raising turn of phrase at a White House car show.

Written by: Emma Garland

A group of people, likely children, sitting around a table surrounded by various comic books, magazines, and plates of food.
© Michael Jang
Culture

How the ’70s radicalised the landscape of photography

The ’70s Lens — Half a century ago, visionary photographers including Nan Goldin, Joel Meyerowitz and Larry Sultan pushed the envelope of what was possible in image-making, blurring the boundaries between high and low art. A new exhibition revisits the era.

Written by: Miss Rosen

Silhouette of person on horseback against orange sunset sky, with electricity pylon in foreground.
Culture

The inner-city riding club serving Newcastle’s youth

Stepney Western — Harry Lawson’s new experimental documentary sets up a Western film in the English North East, by focusing on a stables that also functions as a charity for disadvantaged young people.

Written by: Isaac Muk

Couple sitting on ground in book-filled environment
Culture

The British intimacy of ‘the afters’

Not Going Home — In 1998, photographer Mischa Haller travelled to nightclubs just as their doors were shutting and dancers streamed out onto the streets, capturing the country’s partying youth in the early morning haze.

Written by: Ella Glossop

Signup to our newsletter

Sign up to stay informed from the cutting edge of sport, music and counterculture, with personal takes on the state of media and pop culture in your inbox every month from Emma Garland, former Digital Editor of Huck, exclusive interviews, recommendations and more.

Please wait...

Accessibility Settings

Text

Applies the Open Dyslexic font, designed to improve readability for individuals with dyslexia.

Applies a more readable font throughout the website, improving readability.

Underlines links throughout the website, making them easier to distinguish.

Adjusts the font size for improved readability.

Visuals

Reduces animations and disables autoplaying videos across the website, reducing distractions and improving focus.

Reduces the colour saturation throughout the website to create a more soothing visual experience.

Increases the contrast of elements on the website, making text and interface elements easier to distinguish.