A melted plastic slide at a home in Altadena, January 11.
Photograph: Devin Oktar Yalkin
In June 2023, the photographer Devin Oktar Yalkin moved to Pasadena, to a home about three miles from Eaton Canyon, the location of one among two lethal fires in Los Angeles that started spreading uncontrolled January 7. Yalkin, who grew up in New York Metropolis, would typically drive by the leafy streets of Altadena after dropping his younger son off in school, veering towards Mount Wilson, which rises above Eaton Canyon. “I’d head towards the mountain,” mentioned Yalkin, 43. Buddies and acquaintances who have been artists and musicians had been in a position to purchase their first properties within the neighborhood, and Yalkin hoped to someday be part of them. “I saved telling my spouse, ‘That is the place I’d like to personal a house,’” he mentioned.
The morning after the hearth began in Eaton Canyon, Yalkin drove into the neighborhood to attempt to discover a pal, however he rapidly turned disoriented amid the chaos as residents fled. He took just a few pictures — together with one within the portfolio under of a home on hearth — however when he couldn’t discover his pal, he returned to his spouse and 6-year-old son as a way to evacuate them. Two days later, on Saturday, January 10, he and his household returned, and we traveled collectively as he started photographing the burned metropolis the fires left behind.
The Misplaced Metropolis
To supply work about an ongoing catastrophe is ethically fraught: You might be encountering folks in misery and documenting a number of the most troublesome moments of their lives. Yalkin will not be a photographer who reflexively veers towards the jagged fringe of motion, and he isn’t a quantity shooter. He strikes slowly by a panorama, attempting, as he informed me, “to spend time with a second” and on the lookout for photos that may keep in a viewer’s thoughts. “It’s by no means about ‘getting the shot,’” he mentioned. “It’s, How can I mirror my expertise? How has this mirrored onto me emotionally, and the way can I put that again into the world?” The photographs included on this portfolio are ones that linger on the important questions these fires have raised: What have people carried out to our habitat, and what may have been carried out to forestall such tragedy? Is anyplace protected? “Work that asks questions,” Yalkin says, “as an alternative of leaving you with solutions.”
At night time, earlier than getting into the home he rented and rejoining his household — for a few evenings his 79-year-old mom was additionally within the house — he took off his ash-covered garments and left his boots exterior the door. (Due to warnings about water high quality, within the first days of our reporting we washed our garments however didn’t take showers.) His work from the fires targeted on his neighbors’ desires — what had grow to be of them and the place they may find yourself. He informed me he nonetheless thinks of Altadena and what it is likely to be prefer to someday reside there. “I’m nonetheless enchanted by it,” he mentioned. “It’s one thing I feel I’ll by no means cease dreaming about.”
Altadena, January 8: A home in flames whereas the Eaton Fireplace burned.
Altadena, January 11: A firefighter from Tulare County deployed to the Eaton Fireplace.
Altadena, January 11: Josh Block, a music producer, inspects the charred inside of his house.
Altadena, January 19: Solely the driveway remained after hearth destroyed a house.
Altadena, January 19: Owners stroll by the ruins of their home.
From left: January 15: Overlooking AltadenaJanuary 19: Greg Sliwinski inspects his neighbor’s home
From left: January 15: Overlooking AltadenaJanuary 19: Greg Sliwinski inspects his neighbor’s home
Altadena, January 19: A house owner and his son search by the rubble for a lacking ring.
Malibu, January 12: Broken automobiles exterior an oceanfront house.
Altadena, January 15: Melted metallic from an engine block.
January 18: Overlooking the Palisades.
