Yeah, I know, it’s been pretty quiet around here lately. Thankfully, it’s for a good reason: it’s been unseasonably warm, which means I’ve been taking every opportunity to get out and take photos before winter sets in and I have to start allotting several hours a day for curling up in the fetal position, rocking gently back and forth, and establishing a first-name-basis relationship with the new crop of operators at the suicide hotline (I’m exaggerating, of course – I’m not really flexible enough to curl into the fetal position any more).

Anyway, following on the blockbuster success of my recent series ‘Fading’, I’ve got another set of photos on a similar theme. This time around our subject is a grand old mansion, built in the early 20th Century, which along with the extensive associated grounds was given over to the state on the death of its owners. The state turned the grounds into a park, and some well-meaning but enthusiastic and perhaps slightly intoxicated visitors burned the house to the ground decades ago. All that’s left are the foundation and the stone walls of the first floor, which are now overgrown and showing their age, moreso with every winter.

So, a few weeks ago, with the fall foliage near its peak color, I headed out with a couple of cameras and appropriately-sized yellow filters. The latter inclusion was particularly fortuitous, as most of the trees around the old house were maples that had turned a rather vibrant shade of yellow, meaning that the filters lightened the foliage a lot, creating quite a nice effect, I think. I had along my new Super Ikonta C and my Certo Super Dollina II, a finicky camera on its best days, but with an excellent lens. Both were loaded with Ilford FP4+, which ended up being a bit slow with the low autumn light combined with the added filter factor. Still, I was pretty happy with the results, and I was able to put together a small but cohesive set of presentation-worthy photos. Enjoy.

Click any photo to start a full-size slideshow.



Photographers are drawn to things that are broken, collapsing, or otherwise decaying like vultures to a carcass. There’s something compelling about observing the irregular, unpredictable process of something slowly coming apart as a result of the inexorable forces of nature. With that in mind, here is a short photo essay on an old hotel I explored recently.

I used two cameras: one of my Leica IIIcs mounting the Nikon L35AF lens I hacked in Leica Thread Mount, and my newly-acquired Zeiss Super Ikonta C 530/2. I was happy with the results from both, though I do want to go back and shoot more medium format there. Film was Ilford FP4+, my favorite B&W emulsion these days, developed as usual in Caffenol.

Click any photo to start a full-size slideshow.