WITH EYES THAT LISTEN AND A HEART THAT SEES
For decades, Rivka Shifman Katvan has documented the unseen backstage world of Broadway, capturing authenticity where performance and humanity intersect.
October 5, 2025
INTERVIEW
PHOTOGRAPHY Rivka Shifman Katvan
INTERVIEW Karen Ghostlaw Pomarico
With eyes that listen and a heart that sees, Rivka Shifman Katvan moves through the world noticing what most overlook. Her focus goes beyond mere observation, finely tuned to the subtle truths that emerge in the spaces between moments. Her camera carefully listens to her subjects, scanning the room for visual narratives that reveal the authenticity of the experience. The shutter is released when she becomes attuned to the delicate interplay of emotion and energy unfolding around her. Rivka has mastered the ability to capture the hushed whispers and sacred intimacy of a Broadway dressing room without disturbing its delicate balance, whether in moments of calm or in the energy and movement that fill the space behind the scenes.
For decades, she has slipped behind curtains, both literal and emotional, quietly witnessing moments of transformation. Not posed or performed, but naturally unfolding. “I became like a fly on the wall,” she once reflected about her early backstage days, “walking on tiptoes, learning how to be discreet in other people’s private spaces.” There is a remarkable gentleness in her approach combined with a profound presence. This blend of quiet curiosity and unwavering attention has become her unmistakable signature.
What gives Rivka’s photography its quiet power is that it never demands attention. It reflects a presence that waits, observes, and belongs without needing to announce itself. She doesn’t insert herself into the frame. She listens, she waits, and in time her presence becomes part of the atmosphere, unnoticed, but essential. That’s when something honest appears. A weary actor meeting their own gaze in the mirror. A dress being fastened with deliberate tenderness. A brief glance shared just before the lights go up. These are the moments she catches. And somehow, without ever breaking the stillness, she lets us feel as if we were standing there too. In a world that so often confuses volume with presence, her images remind us that the most lasting stories are told in whispers.
Rivka’s eye is compassionate, steady, honest, and quietly insistent. That rare combination opened doors to places most photographers never see. For years, she was a constant presence behind the scenes of Broadway and the Tony Awards, not just as a fine-art photographer, but often the only one there. Even more remarkably, she was one of the very few women documenting those private, high-pressure moments. She didn’t force her way in. She was invited. And once inside, she made herself small enough to disappear, allowing others the space to truly reveal themselves.
Her presence carried a quiet authority. “It taught me how to put people at ease and gain their trust,” she says. And you can feel that trust in her images. There’s no posturing, no performance. Just people in transition: between characters, between emotions, between selves. Over time, her body of work has earned recognition from major institutions like MoMA, the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the International Center of Photography. But her true legacy lies in the intimacy of the moments she’s preserved.
When you look at Rivka’s photographs, you don’t just witness a moment. You become a silent witness to something deeply intimate. You step into an unspoken narrative. Whether she’s capturing Elizabeth Taylor collecting herself before making a storm of an entrance in The Little Foxes, or catching a quiet breath shared by ensemble cast members just offstage, Rivka transforms still images into emotional time machines. It’s not just her camera that creates this effect but her ability to see, looking with both critical precision and creative intuition. Her process blends instinct and intellect. She watches carefully, waits quietly, and frames what others might overlook. The result is not simply a record of events but a distillation of feeling, with each image offering a glimpse into the emotional truth of a fleeting moment.
Her book Backstage: Broadway Behind the Curtain (Abrams, 2001) is exactly what its title promises. It is a lyrical archive of hidden theater history, rich with atmosphere, emotion, and the fleeting beauty that disappears the moment the spotlight shines. These are not just glimpses from the wings, they are quiet portraits of transformation and humanity. We see actors in moments of reflection, crews at work, and the subtle pauses that come just before a performance.
In the end, it is not the subject that drives her. It is something deeper. A restless sense of curiosity. A strong trust in intuition. A constant desire to see the world with fresh eyes, never dulled by repetition or routine. She moves through the world with the same attention she brings to her work. Focused, thoughtful, and completely present. This interview is not only a look into Rivka Shifman Katvan’s photography. It is also an invitation to see as she sees. With clarity, generosity, courage, and care.
“I never allowed my theater work to define me as an artist. I carry my camera everywhere, capturing vignettes and moments that speak to me.”
IN CONVERSATION WITH
RIVKA SHIFMAN KATVAN
TPL: You have described your early backstage work as becoming “like a fly on the wall.” How did you develop that sense of discretion in such high-pressure environments, where nerves, egos, and performance energy run high?
RIVKA: When I first came backstage, I could immediately feel the pressure, the energy, the stress — it was all around me. At the beginning, I didn’t direct anyone or use flash. I simply observed and made myself invisible. I didn’t ask anyone to pose. I walked quietly, “like a fly on the wall.” Eventually, people forgot I was even there — and that’s when I could truly capture the real, unfiltered moments.
TPL: Many of the moments you capture are deeply personal and often unguarded. How did you develop the discretion needed to move through such high-stakes environments — like Broadway dressing rooms — without disrupting the energy? And more importantly, how did you build the kind of trust that made people welcome your presence, rather than want to swat that “fly on the wall” away?
RIVKA: By respecting them — and their space. I never imposed myself. After a few visits, people started feeling safe around me, and that trust grew naturally. Every time I returned, I would bring prints from the previous shoots and give them as gifts. They loved that. Trust happens when people feel they’re not being judged. It’s about creating safety.
TPL: Looking back to your 1979 thesis at the School of Visual Arts — did you ever imagine it would blossom into such a long and defining relationship with theater? Or did you always see it as a starting point for something larger? What advice would you give to seniors at SVA today?
RIVKA: No, I never imagined it would lead to so many years backstage. I simply followed what I loved. I was curious — and I kept going. One professor gave me advice that I followed: “Go out and shoot at least two rolls of film a week.” I would pass that advice on to students today — even in the digital age. Go out, shoot, and shoot again. Something magical will happen. Follow your heart, let your curiosity lead the way, and your work will grow. One day you’ll look back and realize you’ve created a body of work.
TPL: You’ve spent years photographing some of the most iconic actors and artists of our time, yet you’ve said you don’t let “well-known images define you.” How do you keep your voice distinct when photographing both the celebrated and the anonymous?
RIVKA: What interests me is the human being — not the celebrity. I always look for the person behind the image. That’s especially true in my Backstage project. I’m not chasing fame — I’m looking for authenticity.
TPL: There’s a strong thread of surrealism in many of your street and reflection series — especially the mannequins and window reflections. Do you see these images as narrative or abstract? And what draws you to that border between real and imagined?
RIVKA: I’ve been photographing reflections since I was a student at SVA. For me, these images are both abstract and narrative. The way mannequins merge with NYC buildings creates its own story — and over time, they also reflect the transformation of the city itself. I work in black and white for this series because it strips away distraction and focuses the image. I don’t digitally manipulate the photos — I use Photoshop the way I would use a darkroom: just dodging and burning to bring out the best in the image.
TPL: You have spent much of your career working in environments that have historically been shaped and controlled by men, from the backstage worlds of Broadway to moments of raw emotional openness that are rarely documented with such sensitivity. Do you feel that your gender influenced how you were perceived or the access you were given? And how have you navigated or shifted those dynamics over time? How have you helped to change those old narratives?
RIVKA: No, I don’t think my gender played a role. What mattered most was respect. I respected the people and their space, and over time that created real connection.
When I’m backstage, I feel the excitement and energy of the actors, and that energy flows into my creativity.
TPL: Do you see any parallels between your creative process and performance art? Do you feel in the moment you become part of the fabric of the performance itself?
RIVKA: Yes, definitely. When I’m backstage, I feel the excitement and energy of the actors, and that energy flows into my creativity. I may not be on stage, but I’m very much a part of what’s happening.
TPL: What do you wish more people understood about the backstage world? Is there a myth you’d love to dispel or a truth you wish was better known?
RIVKA: Some people imagine backstage is all glamour. But it’s actually a high-pressure environment that demands incredible energy and focus from the actors. It’s real work — intense, emotional, and vulnerable.
TPL: Your collaboration with your husband Moshe on the Artist Portrait series is a different kind of intimacy — artistic and relational. How does working with someone so close to you shift or deepen your creative process?
RIVKA: Working with Moshe is very special. We have different styles, but we understand each other deeply. He helps me see things I might miss, and I do the same for him. There’s a strong mutual trust, and that kind of support makes a big difference in the work we do together.
TPL: Your series Bare Exposures brings together images some audiences may recognize alongside others never before publicly shown. What inspired you to present this collection now, and what meaning or feeling do you hope it conveys to viewers?
RIVKA: This series is part of a fundraising project for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS. The actors volunteered to be part of it — they chose to share their presence and their bodies for something meaningful. That touches me deeply. It feels like a big family coming together for a cause, and I’m honored to be part of that. I donate photographs to the auction each year because I believe in the work they do. The actors are proud to be involved, and I hope viewers can feel their strength and generosity.
TPL: The title Bare Exposures suggests both physical and emotional vulnerability. Without giving too much away, can you talk about what you were exploring thematically in this work?
RIVKA: I was exploring openness — not just physical, but emotional. These are actors, but in this project, they’re not performing. They’re simply showing up as themselves. There’s a quiet strength in that kind of vulnerability. It’s simple, but powerful.
TPL: After decades of work across themes, genres, and geographies, what still surprises you when you raise the camera? What keeps you inspired — not just to shoot, but to see?
RIVKA: I’m still surprised by small moments. A glance, a gesture, a flicker of emotion — those things never get old. What keeps me inspired is curiosity and trusting my instincts. As long as I stay open, the work keeps evolving.
To witness the work of Rivka Shifman Katvan is to be invited behind the curtain. But her camera doesn’t just reveal; it respects. With Bare Exposures, Rivka returns to the theatrical world that first ignited her career, not as a nostalgic revisitation, but as a bold act of revelation. She writes of how this backstage universe taught her to be “discreet in other people's private spaces,” a skill that allowed her to capture not just the drama of performance, but the delicate, often unseen moments of emotional and physical transformation. Her camera became a confidante, her presence a quiet collaborator.
Bare Exposure is a study and project born of trust, observation, and deep reverence for the private rituals of performance. In these images, actors prepare not for applause, but for metamorphosis. We see them suspended in states of becoming. In this rare body of work, intimacy and theatricality coexist, and vulnerability is given room to breathe. Like a chameleon, she easily adapts and changes, blending into her surroundings so fully that her presence never disrupts the authenticity of the moment.
But Bare Exposures is only one dimension of a storied career that spans more than four decades. Rivka’s photographs have been exhibited in some of the most prestigious institutions in the world — including the Museum of the City of New York, the Museum of Television and Radio, the International Center of Photography, the Victoria & Albert Museum, and MoMA. Her images have appeared in The New York Times, The Guardian, Harper’s Bazaar, Blind Magazine, and beyond. She has received awards from the International Photography Awards and B&W Magazine, and her work has been collected by both public and private institutions, including the permanent collections of the NYC Historical Museum and the Museum of the City of New York.
And while her backstage photography is iconic, she has never allowed it to define her. Rivka’s artistic reach extends from the raw energy of Cus D’Amato’s boxing gym to the lyrical abstractions of window reflections, from street photography in New York to collaborations with inmates at Sing Sing. Her visual stories move across different worlds, yet each one is shaped by the same quiet truth. They are as expansive as they are intimate, guided by the belief that “my heart and my eyes are interchangeable.”
Bare Exposures invites us into a space of quiet change. Rivka’s photographs do not simply document, they reflect moments when people shift, grow, and reveal something true. In her work, we are reminded that transformation is not always loud. Sometimes it happens in a glance, a breath, or a pause. And in those subtle moments, Rivka is fully present, recognizing what matters before it disappears.
To view Rivka’s Bare Exposures series, click on her portfolio below.
