Not a Manifesto: Three Ways I See the World
Chelsea LeSage. Union Square. NYC
Cinematic portraits, honest reportage, and soulful brand photography in Jersey City, New York & beyond
I don’t think many people read this journal. And that’s strangely comforting. It gives me a freedom I rarely have when I’m working—where things must be delivered, approved, signed off, and billed. This space is different. It’s a breath. It’s mine.
Over the years, three windows opened slowly. Not all at once. One by one. As I left the fluorescent lights of magazine offices and the metronome pace of film sets behind, I found myself looking for something looser. Quieter. Truer.
This is not a manifesto. It’s a gentle note. A small marker on the map, in case someone’s looking.
1. Portraits with Story
I photograph people the way I see them: with all their contradiction, quiet, humor, and gravity. One person, a couple, a family—it doesn’t matter. What matters is the space between us. I like portraits that feel like film stills, where nothing is overly fixed or forced. You can be in your kitchen, in an old coat, holding your child’s hand. We’re not polishing; we’re revealing.
And yes, I love festive portraits too—especially when I get to collaborate with artists, writers, stylists, or performers who like a bit of theater. But you don’t have to be “a creative” to be seen deeply. A quiet soul is just as striking as an expressive one.
These portraits aren’t commercial. They’re personal, sometimes strange, often tender. A good portrait doesn’t flatter. It understands.
2. Small Brands, Honest Budgets, Sharp Taste
MusesMates. Handmade Jewelry Brand. Hoboken.
I love photographing brands—especially small ones—when there’s room to breathe and build something real. When the product matters. When good people are involved. When I’m trusted to make something with soul, not just style.
The brands I gravitate toward aren’t massive—but they know who they are. They care about texture and integrity. They treat their creatives well. They understand the difference between imitation and inspiration.
And if you’re out there making cool wool coats by hand or upcycling vintage fabric into magic—call me. Most likely you are my ideal client.
I also understand tight budgets. I worked in editorial—tight budgets are a lifestyle. But we found ways to make it beautiful. Our beauty editor used to hand out giant bags of serums, lipsticks, and tiny glass jars of potions after every deadline. The printing dust still in the air, the pages hot off the press—and there she’d be, giving us magic. So yes, you can buy me. But please—no mugs that say girlboss. I’m not that kind of tired.
3. Reportage—Unstaged, Unpolished, Alive
Backyard wedding. Staten Island. New York.
This is where I breathe. Photographing events, small weddings, intimate gatherings—not to orchestrate them, but to catch them as they are. I don’t do the rigid American wedding playbook: the first look, the forced kiss, the endless portraits where no one looks like themselves.
What I love is freedom. A wedding in someone’s home where a dog runs through the ceremony. A rooftop dinner where someone reads a letter from a grandmother. A wildly imperfect moment where nothing is staged, but everything is felt.
I also love photographing artists at work. In their studios, mid-rehearsal, hands covered in paint or clay or ink. There’s a quiet I listen for even inside movement. The click of scissors through silk. The swipe of graphite on a page. These are portraits, too—only in motion.
A portrait that moves. A reportage that lingers. Something in between.
I don’t need a shot list. I need your trust.
So—where am I on the map?
I was born in Moscow, raised by women who knew how to work, cook, edit, and wait. Trained by editors in Paris, where taste was quiet and exacting. Shaped by New York—messy, electric, impossible not to love.
Now I live in Jersey City. I work in New York, Brooklyn, Hoboken, Montclair—but I’ll travel, if it’s worth it. Not for extravagance. For meaning.
I’m not trying to be everywhere. I just want to be in the right rooms. With the right people.
If you see yourself anywhere in these lines, write to me.
I’m here.
