As summer in the Catskills comes to an end, enduring scenes that last all year

Photos: Hasidiminusa

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hotographer Abe Kugielsky, a documentarian of the chassidic world with his camera, says that he used to blend with the shadows, camera in hand yet afraid his subjects wouldn’t appreciate being photographed. His presence was often unnoticed, his lens doing the speaking for him. But these days, the New York-based photographer, who says his early chassidic education has given him a common language to help him better connect, has stepped forward with intention, camera proudly in hand, to capture those moments that speak to all of us.

When he was learning in the Mir in Yerushalayim many years back, Abe — who runs an antique Judaica business and tags his street photography as “hasidiminusa,” — met up with Israeli photographer Eli Greenwald (a.k.a. Baruch Yaari), picking up skills and techniques. At the time, he observed that most people only take pictures of their families, and that no one was going about documenting the community. He recognized the potential opportunity and in 2011, began his trajectory. Three years and 30,000 photos later, he began sharing his pictures online.

While taking pictures of people in public spaces is both legal and acceptable, he would use a hidden camera to take photos in shuls and at tishen. “I could be just two inches away from someone, and he had no idea he was being photographed,” Abe told Mishpacha, revealing that, in addition to other techniques that he won’t mention, he had a camera built into what looked like a siddur.

As the thermometer crept upward toward the end of June, thousands of New Yorkers in their annual ritual packed up and moved to the cooler, cleaner air of the Catskills, leaving the honking horns and flashing lights of the five boroughs for the steady hum of mosquitoes and the sound of crickets filling the night. For the chassidish families who settle in to their summer bungalow colonies, the change in scenery doesn’t mean that life veers much from the year-round routine. The rhythm remains one of community, prayer, learning, and family, grounded in timeless values. But the addition of leafy foliage, winding country roads, and sun-dappled yards creates a once-a-year backdrop that softens the familiar and lends new warmth to the everyday.

This juxtaposition — the unchanging heart of a people set against the lush, ever-changing beauty of summer — offers a rare photographic opportunity and Abe, with his practiced eye and deep respect for his subjects, is there to capture it. His lens traces the outlines of lives both rooted and transient, honoring tradition even as it adapts to a seasonal shift in setting.

And now, as summer begins to wind down, the bungalow colonies slowly empty, the country season drifting toward a gentle close. But thanks to Abe’s documentation, these moments won’t disappear with the turning leaves. Instead, they are preserved, reminding us that while the locations may vary, the people never really change.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1075)