Intimate photos of a senior love triangle Isadora Kosofsky
Jeanie, Will and Adina
are three senior citizens
connected by a special relationship.
They view their bond as a shield
from the loneliness of aging.
I first met them at a retirement
home in Los Angeles,
where I had been photographing
for three years.
I saw as they approached
the gate one night,
and felt an immediate connection to them.
Although I didn’t know the details
of their love triangle,
I intuitively felt
that I had to find out who they were.
Questioning a nurse
a day later, she said to me,
“Oh, you’re talking about the threesome.”
(Laughter)
I was intrigued.
(Laughter)
The trio set out on a daily adventure
to coffee and doughnut shops,
bus stops and street corners.
I soon learned that the purpose
of these outings was solace
and a search for meaning.
The trio sought to combat their alienation
by literally integrating themselves
in public streets.
Yet, even when arm in arm,
no one saw them.
We often think that as we age,
we lose the desires held in our youth.
Actually, as a teenage photojournalist
when I met the trio,
I saw their behavior as a mirror
to the fears of exclusion
and desires for intimacy
that I also carried.
I related to their invisibility,
which pained me during my childhood
but has become my greatest asset
as an immersive documentarian,
because I can just fade into my empathy.
As we walked down
the streets of Hollywood,
in a neighborhood of screenwriters,
actors and filmmakers,
the trio assumed the invisibility
that each senior does.
I would ask myself,
“How is it that no one else
sees these three human beings?
Why is it that I am
the only one who sees them?”
Years later, as I began to share
this work with the public,
I noticed that people are largely
uncomfortable with this story.
Perhaps it is because the trio
doesn’t assume conventional notions
associated with love,
romance or partnership.
They were unseen in public
and shunned by their peers.
They wanted to belong somewhere
but only seemed to belong with each other.
I wanted to belong somewhere, too.
And my camera has been a catalyst
for me to belong everywhere.
But beyond challenging sociocultural
norms about the elderly,
the trio sheds light
on fear of remoteness.
At the end of each day, they return
to their respective retirement homes.
Under the surface of their aloneness,
there is a desire for community,
for their people.
There was a sense that they were each
yearning for their tribe,
but that comfort comes with compromise,
because Will cannot commit to one woman.
Sitting with Jeanie one day
in her apartment, she said to me,
“Sharing Will is a thorn in your side.
A relationship between a man
and a woman is private.
It is a couple, not a trio.”
My process is to essentially
become the people I document
by spending years with them
as an observer-occupant,
to create a safe space,
to then become hidden in plain sight.
I was about 17 when I met the trio,
and I shadowed them for four years.
We actually see, in the breakdown
of social development,
that adolescence and old age
look strikingly alike,
because both are periods
of identity confusion.
I identified with the women.
But also with Will, who made me
aware of the divide in me.
The schism that we each often have
about what we crave
and the actuality of our situation.
Before shooting this series,
I was also in love with two different
people who knew about each other,
being the object over which they fought.
But I also knew what it was like
to be at the base of the triangle,
like Jeanie or Adina,
asking myself,
“Why aren’t I enough?”
I would look through my viewfinder
and see three elderly figures,
and it became impossible to deny
that regardless of age,
we were each in pursuit of filling
the proverbial hole through other people.
Perhaps the discomfort of looking
at Jeanie, Will and Adina’s story
is truly a reminder
that even at the end of life,
we may never reach the fantasy
we have envisioned for ourselves.
Thank you for listening.
(Applause)