Self-taught artist Dolly Faibyshev works out of New York, a city as diverse as her subjects. Her work has been published in The New Yorker, TIME, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, and a litany of other publications.
What’s your earliest memory of Thanksgiving?
I love Thanksgiving. It’s not only acceptable to be gluttonous and eat as much as possible, it’s encouraged and promoted. Oh yeah, and I love spending it with my family. My mom makes the best spread. She always overfeeds for every holiday—there are like three entrées served before the turkey even makes it to the table. This is how I always remember spending Thanksgiving, so I don’t have an earlier memory of it being any different.
My mom shared an early memory of her first Thanksgiving in the U.S. as a Russian immigrant in 1981 when I was a baby. She didn’t know what to do, so she ordered a pre-cooked turkey from John Wanamaker’s department store. She didn’t think it was very good and quickly figured out that she could make a better version herself, and she has ever since. I’m thankful for that.
How would you characterize your practice?
I started taking photos in desperation. I was working corporate 9-to-5 office jobs for maybe eight years after college, and I had this hazy, creative feeling inside of me dying to get out, but I kept searching for ways to express myself artistically, and failing. I was so hungry to make something happen, and photography clicked—after a lot of practice and trial and error, of course. I just wanted to make art and survive doing it, so whenever I take a photo that makes me smile, I know I did something right.
Where and how did you take these photos?
I took this in 2013, exactly 10 Thanksgivings ago. I was with my husband’s family that year, and circumstances forced us to have the dinner in a bare-bones restaurant in the middle of nowhere. I loathed the idea of spending Thanksgiving at a public buffet, so I brought my little point-and-shoot and took some photos of the desserts on the table out of boredom.
I quickly realized that sharing this space with families that also weren’t able to have dinner in their homes, but still managed to make something happen, had its own warm, communal feeling. I started to feel the love spending this Thanksgiving tradition in a nontraditional way, seeing families expressing love alongside other families. All those feelings inspired me to create this photo collage.
Filmmaker and photographer Pete Lee began his career in San Francisco, premiering the short film Don't Be a Hero in 2018 at Sundance. The following year, the Rainin Foundation sponsored his screenplay High Priestess of Souls, and in 2022, his cookbook, Mister Jiu’s in Chinatown, won the James Beard Book Award.
What’s your earliest memory of Thanksgiving?
I grew up in Taiwan, where the only turkey I'd tasted growing up was the Chiayi turkey rice—where they'd fry shredded turkey meat in shallot oil and drizzle it over a bowl of steamy white rice. I didn't get to experience the American Thanksgiving until middle school, in Boston, where I got in a fist fight with another kid in my apartment building. Come to think of it, it was probably the last time I won a fight.
What feelings does the holiday evoke for you?
As an immigrant kid, Thanksgiving never made a lot of sense to me. It always felt like a practice run for Christmas, where the movies just weren't half as good, the snow hadn't found its footing, and the vacation was half as long. But as I got older, the health and mortality of my folks started to feel less and less abstract. They're both now in their 70s, and it gets quite heavy once I realized that at some point, we'll need to start counting down how many of these meaningless holidays we actually get to spend with one another. I don't know, but they're only getting more finite with each passing November.
How would you characterize your practice?
I am a fight choreographer turned social worker turned photographer. I don't know how to properly convey the throughline between these seemingly disparate practices, but it's there. My goal, I guess, is for you to understand this throughline when you glance at my work.
Where and how did you take these photos?
These were candids taken on Thanksgiving 2017. My relatives in SoCal held a big gathering where family members flew in from all over. I was there as the lone representative of my East Coast clan. I never much loved these gatherings because they always ended up asking me for a bunch of free photos. One of my cousins was selling diet supplements so she always asked for shots where she looked hot standing next to high-calorie dishes, and in general everyone would have notes about how they looked.
I thought about leaving my camera at home, but brought it with me anyway. I had to improvise my lighting setup, and managed to stick my remote flash above the cabinets, using the ceiling as a giant, soft diffusion. After surprisingly few rounds of notes, the family approved. In hindsight, I was glad to have brought my camera because, as it turned out, it would've been the last Thanksgiving for two of my favorite aunts. Both of them passed away from cruel and sudden illnesses and, as you could see, both of them still had so, so, so much life to live and to give. I miss them.
Shaun Pierson, who received his MFA from the Yale School of Art, works across photography and video out of New York. The 2023-24 recipient of the Sharpe-Walentas Studio Program has shown work at François Ghebaly, Amanita, and Green Gallery, among other locations.
What’s your earliest memory of Thanksgiving?
Watching my grandmother drop a frozen turkey on her foot. She broke two toes but never canceled dinner. I still think about that moment every time she goes to pull the turkey from the freezer. She’s a rock star.
What feelings does the holiday evoke for you?
The roots of Thanksgiving are quite sinister, so naturally I’m disturbed. America has always been so preoccupied with self-aggrandizing, and this holiday is a perfect example of that. For me, Thanksgiving is less about “giving thanks” (to whom?) and more so about connecting with family members I have not seen in a long time. I like getting together every year and seeing how people have changed.
How would you characterize your practice?
A man, a camera, and the tension that exists between a photographer and their subject. Photography is an excuse for me to exercise some sort of control over my life.
When and where did you take these photos?
I took these photos of my family a few years back in New Jersey. I always utilize the holidays as a time to take my camera out and photograph those close to me as much as possible, and I’m consistently drawn to the ways in which people immediately begin to perform when the camera is visible. That sense of play is so hard to come by in daily life, and I’m really moved when people will get together to help me make a photograph.
Dallas-based Jonathan Zizzo has been working for over 20 years in commercial and editorial photography, shooting for the Dallas Mavs, The New York Times, Catbird, the Phoenix Suns, and more.
What’s your earliest memory of Thanksgiving?
Being a young lad sitting around the television watching football and playing with siblings in the yard till dinner was ready.
What feelings does the holiday evoke for you?
It's kinda Americana in the South to just sit around and watch a game as you are having your Thanksgiving with family and friends, so I suppose it’s just a good time to halt everything and just get into a turkey coma after the big meal. Everything shuts down so you sort of just have to embrace the day and realize you're in for a feast.
How would you characterize your practice?
I like to approach all jobs with a sense of spontaneity, leaving room for opportunities that sometimes were never a part of the original idea or concept. I traditionally stay curious about all things and the world around me, so that always keeps things fresh.
Where and how did you take these photos?
The photos were originally shot for a U.K. Newspaper through Getty images in ‘09. It was so exciting running around that day creating images of what happens with tailgaters and the NFL for Thanksgiving.
New York-based Gillian Laub has released a number of monographs—including Testimony, Southern Rites, and Family Matters—dissecting issues of race, media, and family dynamics.
What’s your earliest memory of the holiday?
Earliest memory of Thanksgiving is from Polaroids I took and still have from when I was 7 years old, with all my cousins and my father and grandfather carving the turkey together.
What feelings does the holiday evoke for you?
Bittersweetness. My grandparents were a huge part of my Thanksgiving memories. It always marked the time of our whole family being together. I miss my grandparents being there.
How would you characterize your practice?
I am not a fly on the wall. It’s more like I am choreographing reality through the camera, if that makes sense?! Then, later, I weave the narrative through the editing process.
Where and how did you take these photos?
They are photos from Thanksgiving at my parents' and sister's in Westchester. Our Thanksgiving dinners migrated to my sister's home in 2005.
New Haven-based photographer Arielle Weenonia Gray is a recent graduate of the Yale School of Art’s Master’s program, and has been featured in a number of publications, including Vogue, Aperture, The New York Times, and right here at CULTURED.
What’s your earliest memory of Thanksgiving?
Going to Wendy’s with my mom and twin sister for a Christmas ornament toy from the 2000 film How the Grinch Stole Christmas. We got home that night to set up the tree, and I remember us making cookies (always burning the bottom) and putting the Grinch ornament on the tree.
What feelings does the holiday evoke for you?
Sadness from nostalgia, warmth from being able to be present with my family.
How would you characterize your practice?
I would characterize my practice as based in sentimentality, constantly shifting between autofiction and the uncanny. I am constantly crying (joy and sadness), writing, and taking photographs. Not necessarily in that order.
Where and how did you take these photos?
The black and white photo, After 26 years, she has sent us out into the world to love and love again, was taken in my home in Tuscaloosa, Alabama during my winter break from Yale. My mother was cradling my sister’s face one night, and I asked them to replicate that moment for me. My mother’s hands have always felt iconic to me.
The photo featuring the gloves, It’s Our Party, was taken in New Haven with my friends Alexandria Couch and Kayla Hawkins. I had ventured to the fashion district to borrow dresses from Batsheva Hay, and I decided we would play pretend. I love the process of getting ready, especially during the holidays—glitter, mesh, red, silver, and gold rule my world. We cleared out my bedroom, put on the gloves, and danced around my bedroom.
