From egg creams to art: Whitney Browne’s ‘Candy Store’ honors Ray’s and the East Village

The subject of photographer Whitney Browne’s new book, “Candy Store,” is, foremost, Ray Alvarez’s iconic shop on Avenue A, “Ray’s Candy Store.” But it’s also about the East Village neighborhood, it’s a salute to the endurance of a small business owner who has endured economic and health crises, and Browne says, it’s “a tribute to who I was at that time.”

Alvarez, who is 92 years old and still works the graveyard shift at his 24-hour business, had been at it for a while (he opened his tiny shop in 1974) when Browne started frequenting the place in 2006.

“I used to go to Ray’s for an egg cream and some french fries, and then I’d sit in Tompkins Square Park and gobble them up,” Browne recalls. “One night in 2012, Ray said, ‘I’ll teach you how to make an egg cream.’ I just started making malteds and whatever and taking care of the customers.”

Ray’s Candy Store, in business since 1974.Photo by Bob Krasner

Ray Alvarez, 91 years old, still working the night shift at his shopPhoto by Bob Krasner

Whitney Browne hanging with Ray Alvarez, just like they did it back thenPhoto by Bob Krasner

“I had crazy insomnia,” she continues. “I would wander around at night, and I just wanted something to do. I knew Ray’s was open, and I could walk in and work behind the counter. I would fill in when he was sick, and he would call me when he needed me. He offered to pay me, but I said no, I just really liked doing it.”

Browne was working as a photographer’s assistant at the time for Tom Caravaglia, who gifted her a Hasselblad camera that he no longer used. She began bringing the medium format studio camera to Ray’s and shooting color negative film of the late-night goings-on during her volunteer shift.

“It started as an anti-document,” she says. “I didn’t go there to document it, but I was fascinated by the whole thing, the hand-written signs, the people. I just always liked Ray’s vibe, and I got to know him as a person”.

There was no shortage of subject matter, especially when “the Pyramid emptied out and everyone wanted a hot dog.” Though there were “times when I was afraid for my life,” she admits, “nothing ever happened.” Nothing bad, anyway. Of course, she never knew when, for example, a conga line might come through at 3 a.m.

At the time, there was no thought of doing anything with the photos. Alvarez contributed to the project by occasionally throwing her the money from the tip jar, which she used to develop the film a few doors down at Luster.

“I loved shooting film, it matched the vibe,” Browne explains. “It became a personal kind of diary for me that I felt very confident about. The light in there was very bad and every time I got an image back that I liked I felt good. I never shot thinking that they would see the light of day; they were just pictures that I was taking for myself.”

A late night customer at Ray’s Candy Store. Photo by Whitney Browne from her book “Candy Store”Photo by Whitney Browne

Ray Alvarez (left) enjoying The Maine Attraction, along with a few photographers at his birthday party in the shop in 2020Photo by Bob Krasner

Ray Alvarez working the night shift, from the Whitney Browne book “Candy Store”Photo by Whitney Browne

The project stopped in 2017, when she moved to Brooklyn, but she’s kept in touch with Alvarez, stepping up and having a show for his benefit for his medical expenses, which was the first showing of the images.

And now there’s the book, which Browne financed herself. “Candy Store” includes not just her favorite pics from that era, but also her own commentary as well as an interview with Alvarez, who deserves his own article, if not a full-fledged bio.

“My favorite thing about Ray is his mind,” Browne confides. “He will perform and has a mask on for people, but when you really chat with him, he has a lot to say about politics and the world.”

“Ray’s perseverance inspired me in a time when I really needed inspiration,” she muses. “Now that the book has been made, I’m happy that it can add to the kind of visual quilt of New York. I want generations of people behind me to realize that New York wasn’t always homogenized. There were places to go, these small businesses that offered you more than just their goods. Like a community space with uniqueness. In my 20s, when I was there, I was looking for something like that. It wasn’t a place of work, it was a place of joy.”

The book “Candy Store” can be purchased through Browne’s website at whitneybrowne.com/rays-candy-store and her Instagram is @canigetawhitney.

Browne will be discussing the project with this writer at the Tompkins Square Park library on Tuesday, Oct. 14, at 6 p.m. Registration is suggested: nypl.org/events/programs/2025/10/16/east-village-music-art-words-whitney-browne-conversation-bob-krasner?nref=370068

Whitney Browne flipping through her book “Candy Store” with Ray Alvarez

Old world charm that’s real at Ray’s Candy StorePhoto by Bob Krasner

Stella, who works the day shift, has known Alvarez since the 70’s . “How many times did Ray ask me to marry him ? About a thousand”, she says, after making us an egg creamPhoto by Bob Krasner

Ray Alavarez signs a copy of Whitney Browne’s book “Candy Store”Photo by Bob Krasner