I like the idea that some things change and evolve, by themselves, without interference from humans. For example the color of the ocean changes during the day, but buildings are more subtle and just wear away, day after day. My ongoing interest is in the impermanence of architectural deterioration and renewal. I like to see the patterns, and the textures. I have been drawn to the work of Paul Strand, Walker Evans and Edward Hopper, and in the way they matter-of-factly record a scene. Looking at William Christenberrys’ buildings sitting in an empty landscape, I ask why? A few years ago I saw a show of photographs by Stephen Wilkes, of the old hospital buildings at Ellis Island. I went back many times to look at it, amazed by the beauty he found in the decaying buildings.
Brick becomes weathered, but is more lasting than wood. The colors of brick often become warmer with age, but the shapes are less distinct. It is part of a cycle. Something is removed, leaving a new form below. Mortar slowly chips away, allowing the bricks to sit directly on top of each other. A repair to the mortar often leaves the bricks outlined in white, changing the look of the surface. Where brick has been wet, curved white lines appear at the edge of the dampness where the lime has seeped out.
In time plants take over the buildings, both furthering the deterioration and yet hiding it from view. Aging metal rusts, and changes to many colors and textures, copper trim on buildings changes to green.
Windows and doors become empty eyes into the darkness, or a view through out to the far side. If the light is right, they reflect back at the viewer, creating an inadvertent self-portrait.