Jessica Dimmock dove headlong freakin' into it.

There she was, in 2004, all innocent and walkin' around, playing with her fancy new digital camera, still a student... then a chance meeting with the jail bound coke dealer, the door in the floor opened and into the rabbit hole she went. Into the darkness, into the-land-of-broken-childhood-dreams, into the pain, into the dead end, into the heroin-is-god parallel universe. The 9th Floor was waiting for her... and in she jumped.

The apartment in NYC, 4 W. 22nd St, the place of the pain, the upside down world of the empty shell living… dead folks walking... it would become a second home of sorts for Jessica. There she was, in the fray. This was amazing for a photographer, right? Insane to have this opportunity of chance, a chance that would turn into a VIP pass to document the drug fueled descent, to document the decay, to have free reign in the world of dashed dreams... to make it, with open arms, to be accepted into this world of the barely living... amazing, wasn’t it? Well, I guess that all depends on the way that you look at it… doesn’t it. Let’s hold our thoughts on that for a bit and let’s get back to our story.



"The Ninth Floor", an apartment up high, overlooking 5th Avenue in Manhattan, is the rabbit hole, the 3 years that Jessica spent in that hole is our story, the lock jawed addiction of heroin is our stage and the 20 or 30 heroin addicts who fell in and out of a heroin tar pit our are players. Jessica describes the initial “hall pass” that brought here into this heroin-human-hamster-habitat as initially occurring by chance, but after a few first visits without her camera, and after bringing prints of the Coke Dealer and some parties for them to love on and paste on the walls… “(she) was allowed to return at any time”… and it began. Free reign was soon here… and artistic freedom was granted. There she was with her camera during the sweaty sex, during street side blow jobs, during the beatings and brawls and as a witness to their slow-dance-with-the-devil, during the liquid injections of his heroin-love-drug… there was nothing off limits. Jessica watched and witnessed as the wreckage unfolded from this squatter's base camp - this garbage filled, dirty clothes pile electricity-less dump, this dark smelly cave in the sky. Can you imagine the thrill and excitement, the anticipation and perhaps even artistic addiction that comes with the acquirement of a carte blanche license into a Manhattan den of iniquity... with the knowingness of what will be the photographic results? Or, are "thrill" and "excitement" the right words? Yes, it must be thrilling… but wait a minute… in light of the subject at hand, can I describe it that way if that is the way that is certainly must be? Or should we reserve the frankness and call it something else because of the downfall that is occurring in front of Jessica’s eyes, in front of our eyes, in front of the camera’s “eyes”. Should I pretend that it is not bloody exciting for an artist? Nah, I am going to call it like it is. Damn right it is exciting. You do what you want with it and while you are at it, why don't you call your the viewing of the pictures totally unenjoyable and that it pains you to look, say that you don’t want to look at it, that it sickens you. Say that you will look at it but you do it so that you “know what is occurring” or so that you can have compassion and that you are not enjoying the looking at all. You can also say that people don't like to slow down to look at a car wreck. Say that the ratings are not high during coverage of disasters on television. I will call the “free reign” that Jessica was granted "thrilling and exciting". I will call the viewing that I get in looking at her photos a pleasure even if the subject matter is beyond brutal. I will even go as far as to say that Jessica’s photographs are beautiful even in the midst of their bone crunching pain. I will say that pleasure and beauty can occur in the midst of pain because it is art, yeah, it is documentation but it is art, of course it is art. And I understand that only in art can such a phenomenon exist… such a dynamic exist in viewer, in artist and in subject. Beauty even in pain. Of course, you do not justify the evil by doing this... it is just the way that art is constructed. You can deny it and say that it is not enjoyable to look at Jessica’s art but I know the truth… you just don’t want to admit it.



Buck up son, don't be afraid... bring honesty to the table or go home.

Back to the story…

Obviously, Jessica, being a human being, she would come to care about the players… Jessie, Rachel, Mike, Dionn…the others, but she soon had to come to grips with it, with the reality… she could not change them, she could not save them, she could not force them, they could not save themselves... hope had hopped on the subway train and booked it outta here. She would just have to watch the downfall, yeah, she would just have to watch it… she would just deal with it. So, deal with it she did. Jessica entered their lives. She cared about them, she was "in it"… oh yeah was she "in it". She worried… she cared, of course. We are all human and this is what human is meant to be… we care about each other for fk’s sake… and we better care about each other damn it. If you could enter this situation and spend time with these people who are hooked by the devil himself, who are snowballed into giving up their lives willingly, if you could spend time with these folks and not care for them… you should be ashamed of yourself. Yes, Jessica would care...

And, of course, there would be no happy endings here.

Okay, I am going to stop the story here and let you think a bit… think about these things and ask yourself some questions. With this type of art, you owe it to yourself to do this, to ask questions. What is our role in our own life as relates to the suffering of our "brother"? What is our obligation when it comes to others and what about art, what does it do? What is it supposed to do and what does photographic journalism do? When does journalism become art and can you document something like this for purely art’s sake? And what about you, can you as the viewer be thrilled by art while looking at something like pain? Are you supposed to look at it if you are not motivated to act? Can you look at it and not take any action as relates to humanity? Do you need to react with a form of action if you are to participate in "the looking"?



I think that I have given you quite a bit. I should just let you just look at the photographs and "enjoy" yourself or I could leave you with some of the drug addicts own words… and let them sink in.

I will do both.

Enjoy it and find the book.


Jessie: “Sometimes its scary, like I think I'm OD'ing. There's many times where I've done it, I've shot and I'm like, "Wow this might be it." I think I've caught myself out of dying many times. I've had my phone in my hand getting ready to dial 911.”
“What makes me go back? Oh, cause I convince myself I'm not going to go that far again, or whatever. I'll just do a little bit less.”

Dionn: “All I was thinking about was, I wanna get high. I wanna get high. You know, I wanna get high. I guess the junkie life was what I wanted. I had really no other aspirations. I just never tried to do anything. The only thing I really wanted to do was, you know, get loaded, and sit around and do nothing. So that's what I did.”

Jessie: “What was it like the first time I did heroin? I'll never forget it. My roommate's door was open a little crack and it was like in the movies or something. There was the candle and the spoon over the candle. And I just did it.”

“And I remember leaning back. And I was on a cloud. And there was not a worry in this world. It just relaxes you. Takes away any of the concern. No fears. No worries. It doesn't do that forever. After awhile you're just doing it to stay straight, to stay normal. And you're not getting the same effects anymore. And then that's why they say you're chasing, the first hit. Cause then you're just doing it to try and get that same feeling that you got in the beginning. But you never really get that. You may get glimpses from time to time. But you never really get that. “

Dionn: “You know I was on 120 milligrams of methadone when she was conceived. By the time she was born I was on fifty. And now I'm completely off.”

“I'm not stupid. I don't think anyone owes me anything. I know that everything I did I made my own choice about it. And that's what sucks real bad. You know, I got a daughter now that looks at me like I am just the best thing. And so I just have to look at her and be like you have no idea. And it's just, it's scary to me, you know? I'm 31 years old. And I have no education. I mean, I look at her and I figure I'll do anything for her. Yeah. And I just, I just you know, I pray, from now on I'll be able to pull it together correctly. I think I've came a long way. But not nearly far enough. Not nearly far enough yet. “

“And she'll just wake up in the morning and like, and she'll just give a big smile. And no matter what kind of mood you're in you can't be upset. They're just...[baby sounds]...just so perfect. You know? I mean... It makes you think about life completely different. There's not any decision I could ever make again without her being the top of the priority. Because you're just that good. You just got so much goodness in you. And it also let's you really see that human beings are inherently good. We learn bad. I mean, there's nothing bad in this little girl, I mean, you know, it's just, she's just nothing but good. Right?"


Regards,

Doug Rickard



You can explore further... you should explore further.

"The Ninth Floor" - Multimedia Show by Mediastorm

"The Ninth Floor" - NY Times Slide Show

"The Ninth Floor" - FOAM Magazine




For more of American Suburb X, become a fan on Facebook and follow ASX on Twitter.

For inquiries, please contact American Suburb X at: info@americansuburbx.com.

All images © copyright the photographer and/or publisher