Meet Ken Nahoum

We had the good fortune of connecting with Ken Nahoum and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi ken, how do you think about risk?
I think it played a huge part The first
Is that just by trying my hand at photography as a career was a big risk Where I grew up, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn you took a safe civil job for 30k per year and that was it or you become a gangster or become Mafia
I was selling typewriters door to door, not new typewriters old ones wrapped in brown paper that were IBM ‘s reconditioned I did it for months and made zero while I was a lifeguard on the weekends I finally had a big week and made $300 and was so excited and that Friday while sitting on the lifeguard stand (no mobile phones) I have no memory how I got the call but was offered a chance to work in a good photo studio for $25 a week I took the photo job while my cousin is still selling typewriters and computers
That was a huge risk Throughout my career if there was a job or type of work I wanted to do I would make it on my own Spend my own money making spec commercials or photo shoots I had some cost over 200k
Which obviously was a risk and over time I feel paid back
I did things like move into an apartment /photo studio that was way beyond my means but felt the image of the space and location would help my career grow and it always was a dance coming up with rent or stalling eviction but eventually I feel it worked and helped and I was able to afford the place I was in

Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?
It’s not an easy question to answer, as my career breaks down into distinct sections, each with its zero own challenges and triumphs. My younger years were a struggle, much like John Travolta’s character in Saturday Night Fever—trying to find a way out of Brooklyn and into the “real world.” My parents didn’t have a safety net for me. My father wanted me to become a fireman for the pension, but I had other dreams but in all honesty they were fuzzy because how to make a living or more appropriately how to survive and not conform to the neighborhood norm really scared me and I had some dark days trying to figure it out Most of the kids I went to school , at least the ones who didn’t die or end up in jail were doing jobs like .working on a factory line, merchant marine fireman, electrician plumber, bouncer , security guard, janitor It was a scary, uncertain time. I bounced between schools, experimenting with cameras, but I never thought it could lead to anything substantial.

Things began to shift in college when a film teacher encouraged me to push boundaries. He got me a job at a bookstore, where I started reading extensively, and I worked as a camera salesman in a department store. There, I devoured every instruction manual and tested every camera I could get my hands on. I attended film school at Brooklyn College and The New School, with a brief stint studying politics at American University in Washington, D.C.

In those early days, I was fearless—a raving, wild animal determined to break through. Growing up surrounded by unsophisticated visuals and a lack of artistic exposure pushed me to see things differently. My first breaks were a combination of persistence and luck. I worked with a photographer battling his own demons, who often let me take over shoots. This unexpected trust gave me invaluable experience, including photographing Orson Welles.

Later, I landed in the studio of Klaus Lucka, one of New York’s top photographers. Klaus was a master technician, capable of shooting everything from celebrities to cars to stunning portraits. I worked relentlessly as his assistant, absorbing everything I could—not just about photography but also about navigating the industry and working with celebrities.

One pivotal moment came while I was working as a lifeguard at Coney Island. The studio’s manager called to say the first assistant had been fired after a shipment of Hasselblads was stolen, and they needed me to step in. Before I knew it, I was on a shoot in the desert outside Los Angeles, photographing Muhammad Ali. That was the moment my father and family began to take my passion for photography seriously.

Early in my career, I made the mistake of imitating the photographers I worked for, especially Klaus. I thought replicating their styles would help me succeed, but it didn’t. Things began to change when I focused on finding my own voice—one that reflected my personal vision and desires. A major turning point came when Andy Warhol’s Interview magazine noticed my portraits of young, sexy actors. I started shooting monthly portraits for Interview. Andy and I never exchanged words directly—he would pass messages to me through editor Gael Love, who would come down from the balcony at “the Factory” The infamous Warhol studio, to tell me, “Andy wants you to shoot this person” or “Andy thinks it would be great if you could photograph that.”

That led to art director Tom Kane offering me the Amaretto campaign, where I photographed many of New York’s coolest celebrities and was given credit on the photos which is not a normal gesture in an advertisement

Although photography has defined much of my career, I’ve always considered myself better at filmmaking. The two art forms overlap, but filmmaking demands everything. I’ve yet to make a feature-length film, which remains an unfulfilled dream. At one point, I turned away from photography, focusing on television projects instead. Then life took over, and raising my three children became my priority. I don’t regret it—I’m proud of the attention and love I gave them—but I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel some sadness when I think about the years I put my career on hold for my family.

If there’s one thing I want the world to know about me, it’s that my work is deeply personal. It’s shaped by my struggles, my obsessions, and the risks I’ve taken. Whether it’s photography or filmmaking, I pour my soul into every frame.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
Fetch in Buckhead

cafe Agora in Buckhead

Truist park when the Mets are in town

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
Throughout my life, many people have influenced me in profound ways. Linda Tepper helped me land my first job, earning $25 a week assisting photographer Ray Garcia at Bel-Aire Catalogue House. Tom Kane recognized my work early on and, for the first time, paid me well for it, giving me a sense of validation.

D*ck Tarlow became my champion, mentoring me in business, art, and navigating personal dramas. My brother Ted showed me unconditional love, a gift that has always stayed with me, and my son Aaron mirrors that same love with incredible loyalty. My daughter Zosia, my first child, changed my life. For ten years, I was intensely attached to her, and she taught me how to truly care for another person, putting someone else’s needs and desires above my own. My son Teddy, uniquely different from all of us, shines as a bright light with his own brand of love that enriches our family in ways only he can.

Klaus Lucka was my mentor in the world of photography and celebrities, shaping much of my craft and career. MJ has shown me a kind of love and support that feels almost otherworldly—far beyond what most earthly mortals could provide. Phillip Farran and Hamid Bechiri helped me refine and fine-tune my style, while Jody Dole taught me invaluable sources and methods. Jerry Kasmere introduced me to the “Art of the Deal,” using nothing more than a typewriter as his device to make his case.

Al and Lidia taught me about electrostatics and gave me an environment to rebel against, pushing me to grow. Sam Kadison and Camp Modin taught me how to think and feel on a deeper level.

And, of course, I can’t forget Jake—Scott Jacobson, my roommate at American University. Besides the mysterious trunk under the bed (its contents best left to the imagination), he taught me so much about film and about life.

I can’t forget Carolina Taddai who stood by my work and along with Pierro Rosai and Stefano
Dibello presented me with the first retrospective of my work in a museum
An incredible place to show at San Gimignano in Tuscany
I’m very proud of the exhibition and amazed they showed 70 photos and created a beautiful book with it
Each of these individuals has left a lasting impression on me, shaping not just my career but also the person I’ve become. I am endlessly grateful for their influence, guidance, and love

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
Fetch in Buckhead

cafe Agora in Buckhead

Truist park when the Mets are in town

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
Throughout my life, many people have influenced me in profound ways. Linda Tepper helped me land my first job, earning $25 a week assisting photographer Ray Garcia at Bel-Aire Catalogue House. Tom Kane recognized my work early on and, for the first time, paid me well for it, giving me a sense of validation.

D*ck Tarlow became my champion, mentoring me in business, art, and navigating personal dramas. My brother Ted showed me unconditional love, a gift that has always stayed with me, and my son Aaron mirrors that same love with incredible loyalty. My daughter Zosia, my first child, changed my life. For ten years, I was intensely attached to her, and she taught me how to truly care for another person, putting someone else’s needs and desires above my own. My son Teddy, uniquely different from all of us, shines as a bright light with his own brand of love that enriches our family in ways only he can.

Klaus Lucka was my mentor in the world of photography and celebrities, shaping much of my craft and career. MJ has shown me a kind of love and support that feels almost otherworldly—far beyond what most earthly mortals could provide. Phillip Farran and Hamid Bechiri helped me refine and fine-tune my style, while Jody Dole taught me invaluable sources and methods. Jerry Kasmere introduced me to the “Art of the Deal,” using nothing more than a typewriter as his device to make his case.

Al and Lidia taught me about electrostatics and gave me an environment to rebel against, pushing me to grow. Sam Kadison and Camp Modin taught me how to think and feel on a deeper level.

And, of course, I can’t forget Jake—Scott Jacobson, my roommate at American University. Besides the mysterious trunk under the bed (its contents best left to the imagination), he taught me so much about film and about life.

I can’t forget Carolina Taddai who stood by my work and along with Pierro Rosai and Stefano
Dibello presented me with the first retrospective of my work in a museum
An incredible place to show at San Gimignano in Tuscany
I’m very proud of the exhibition and amazed they showed 70 photos and created a beautiful book with it
Each of these individuals has left a lasting impression on me, shaping not just my career but also the person I’ve become. I am endlessly grateful for their influence, guidance, and love.

Website: kennahoum.com. or. nahoumstudios.com

Instagram: @kennahoum

Facebook: kennahoum

Tiktok: kennahoum

Image Credits
Black and white portrait photo by Edward Oliver
ken with Muhammed Ali