Cohen pioneered an aggressive, if not invasive, approach to his craft, shortening the distance between photographer and subject until heads were lost to the frame’s edge and only collar bones and clipped limbs remained. “I have been pushed and shoved and screamed at, but nothing serious,” he has said. “I am always aware of the edge.”

Many people who’ve been photographed by Mark Cohen probably never saw him coming. For years, on the streets of his home city, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, and surrounding working-class towns, Cohen shot quickly and assertively. He held his flash in one hand and his camera in the other and shot extremely close to his subjects, frequently focusing on a single body part or article of clothing. He never looked through his viewfinder to compose the frame. 

After 40 wonderful years, Mark Cohen has abruptly ended his relationship with his muse. It might seem like cold betrayal, but it’s really more complicated than that.

“He has lived in the down-on-its-luck small city in northeast Pennsylvania for 69 years — his entire life. He started taking pictures of car wrecks for the local newspaper while he was in high school and ran a photo studio from his house for more than 35 years. In between the weddings, portraits and commercial assignments — on which he raised a family — he shot quirky street images for his own pleasure.

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