I find beauty, mystery, sadness and intrigue in the decay and abandonment of old buildings, farms and places.
I’m attracted by the sad and lonely. The dark and bleak. The neglected and overgrown. Spending time in places no one wants to be. I love to go out on explorations to capture these photos. I don't rush in for quick snapshots. I much prefer to take some time, try to get a sense for the place, its history and how it got to be in the shape it is now. Timing is everything. I generally head out only under the perfect sky and lighting conditions. Getting the right background sky is essential to the look I'm going for. That often means working in adverse weather conditions, rain, storms, advancing cold fronts, fog. I have found ways to use this to my advantage. Inclement weather helps create a mood and sense of atmosphere. This allows me channel what I'm feeling into the visual realm of what I'm seeing. When its successful, the resulting photos have a more visceral impact than they might otherwise. This is what I live for. The explorations are not simply a means to an end. Every journey becomes part of the backstory of the photo, and these are indelibly burned into my memory. Here's just a few examples...both the photos and the back stories they inspired (click titles to link over to the original flickr post).
Roaring ‘20s I act with much more deliberation than I did in my younger years. My thoughts are ever more spontaneous; it's just my actions that are more considered these days. Part of the evolution of growing up I suppose. The turbulent skies of late October found me on the prowl for suitable subject matter. Too often when skies like this appear I'm stuck in the office. That or the nearest building I can find is a Walmart or a car wash where a backdrop like tis would be totally wasted. I took a chance on this old farmstead and much to my delight, was granted access to photograph a group of buildings behind the house. As I worked I noticed this old barn far off on a corner of the property. I headed off toward it mindful that I was straying a bit. Certainly not the first time I've expanded my remit in circumstances like this. I always weigh the risk of getting thrown off the property versus the chances of ever getting back on again. Another factor in that assessment is the sky and lighting conditions. In this case I determined that this was very likely my first and last visit to this place, and the sky conditions would simply never be improved upon. I thought only the appearance of a witch swooping in on a broomstick could have enhanced the visual. I honestly believe in situations like this that I am put here expressly to capture the moment, the look, the feel, and the sheer excitement that I feel.
Puzzle Pieces As I explored this old farmstead, I was engrossed not just with the dilapidated barn, but the context in which I found it. The overgrown weeds, the shattered roof silhouetted against a menacing sky. And above all the dried out cornfield looming behind; an impenetrable mass of rustling stalks, seemingly ready to swallow up the unwary. Things can happen out in those rows. Bad things. And best to keep your distance because just a couple steps in and you simply disappear from view, and maybe altogether. My mind always seems to spin some dark story line like this and it's often apparent in the photos. I'm no longer certain if the scenes are guiding the thoughts, or the thoughts influencing the photos. Anyway I got to thinking how this entire scene was like a jigsaw puzzle, and each piece was interlocked with another to form a tapestry, in this case, a rather bleak and dreary one. If just one piece was removed, this visual spell would be broken. Take away the corn, or replace the clouds with a bright blue sky, or the weeds with a mowed lawn, and the entire context changes. I've come to seek out this kind of congruence of elements as I go out on photo explorations. I'm not here to simply document the places I visit; the goal is to convey how it feels to be there.
Dark Side of the Moon Because of the way its locked in earth's orbit, we only see one side of the moon. The back side never faces earth, so remains shrouded in darkness and mystery. Similar to north facing houses in the northern hemisphere. Always a pain to photograph them without back lighting. In some cases it's best not to fight Mother Nature but just embrace it. As I stood in the shadow of this incredible old farmhouse in the early morning fog, I was taken by the bright sun beginning g to burn its way through the scattered clouds. I took a few photos, but then decided to take a step to my left, just enough to allow the sun to peek out from behind the house. The effect was dramatic and this was the takeaway image. A large print of this photo hangs in my living room and I never tire of seeing it.
Days of Wine and Roses A bleak rural tableau on a wet and raw autumn day. I could not have imagined better conditions for this type of photography. Photos like this have much more impact when the weather and sky conditions harmonize with the subject matter. The wet road really helped seal the deal on this image.
Depreciation This old dairy barn was absolutely massive. It always gave the effect of looming over me as I approached and, truth be told, I was never quite comfortable getting near the place. But from a photographic viewpoint, it was exactly the sort of thing I dream of. I photographed the place on many occasions in all sorts of weather and sky conditions. One day I was shocked to find a huge pile of debris where the barn once stood, with the roof draped over the top. Nearby property owners told me that a couple nights prior, they heard a deafening crash in the evening and looked out to see the barn had simply collapsed under its own weight. Despite its derelict condition, they seemed as sad to see it go as I. Of course I photographed the debris, but it just wasn't the same; all the character of the place was lost. Difficult to select a favorite photo, but I always loved this one, looking up at the barn through tall weeds that helped accentuate its height. I still recall hiking in that day through chest-high grass and weeds, unable to see my feet as I walked, and imagining large snakes waiting to bite with every step.
Dead Living As we get into November, an undeniable dreariness begins to set into the landscape. To my eye it's a sort of monolithic look as the color literally gets sucked out of the outdoor environment. It is hastened with the die-back of foliage after the killing frost, and plant life falls dormant. The leaves drop from trees to expose bare limbs which adds more visual harshness. Many days the sky grows insanely overcast, often with an odd textural quality that seems to mimic what is happening at ground level. If you squint your eye it becomes difficult to distinguish sky from earth. This bleached out statute of the Virgin Mary seemed the perfect complement to this scene with the case concrete emerging from the chipped and flaking paint.
Rouhing It Sometimes the stars and planets align and you encounter a scene where every single element contributes to tell the story. The result in this case was a rather jarring visual projection of gritty bleakness and utter hopelessness. The most compelling photos give you a sense inclusion in the image rather than feeling like a mere bystander.
Last Rites I was photographing an old farmhouse one day not far from the state line. The owner happened to mention an old Victorian funeral home not far away. I asked if they knew the address. They looked at me and smiled. "Oh, you don't need an address; just go up the road a mile and turn left. You'll have no trouble finding it." And so I made my way over to the next road and started scanning the houses on either side, not knowing what to expect or how I would even know if I found it. Suddenly this incredible house came into view. A massive old Victorian indeed, and a former funeral home to boot. In my line of work, it doesn't get much better than that! The house was occupied so I made inquiry with the owner. Meetings like this are sometimes a bit tense, but I showed him some prints of my photos that I carry in the car for exactly this purpose. He looked at just a few and suddenly declared I had free access to photograph the place. He gave me a rundown on this history and then I set about to capture the place. It was a bright sunny day, not my favorite condition, but the light really gave a nice contrast on the Victorian gingerbread trim.
Photographic Memory A collection of outbuildings on an old farmstead live out their final days in an ethereal morning fog. It's not unusual to still find scenes like this in rural Ohio. Singular barns are great, but I much prefer when the satellite buildings (here a granary on the right and wood shed in foreground) remain standing. The old farms were like miniature villages, and each building served a unique purpose. So much history and atmosphere to be absorbed in a place like this. I often try to channel that energy into the photographic process. The goal is to produce images with feeling rather than mere visual depictions.
Second Empire My all-time favorite abandonment was this incredible Second Empire style mansard roof house. The literal epitome of a haunted house, both in architecture and dilapidation. I could have spent a year working the many angles. I returned several times at different times of day to capture the place in different lighting. But as often happens, the photos I took on my very first visit were definitive, and this one is my favorite. It was taken is late spring just as the trees were beginning to leaf out. I felt bare tree limbs were absolutely essential for the look I wanted. This was April, and I thought I would have much more time. Little did I know the house had already been condemned and had less than two months to live. It was demolished in June. I had many times to reflect both on the photos I missed, but also the fact that I at least captured the place in its final days.