About this series:

Bayshore is a light industrial enclave in San Francisco’s Bayview district, tucked between a freeway and the bay. Like countless other office parks, it’s a warren of warehouses and offices cloaked in razor-wire anonymity, typically devoid of memorable features, colors, or, most notably, branding.

Parks like these, which exist near every sizable city, project a “non-place” vibe. The proliferation of warehouses and distribution centers that are essentially identical creates a sense of placelessness, where one location becomes interchangeable with another. Their often deteriorating facades mask services crucial to city life. 

In Bayshore and beyond, businesses of all shapes and sizes operate under the constant gaze of security cameras and harsh floodlights. Bayshore's liveliest block reveals our contemporary moment in sharp relief: Amazon warehouses flanked by RVs sheltering the unhoused are parked by the city's produce mart. An autonomous taxi fleet idles near the luxury buses that shuttle tech workers to Silicon Valley. The series also features images shot in industrial parks that ring the Bay Area and in Phoenix, Arizona.

These environments evoke a sense of dislocation, alienation, and urban anxiety—especially at night. This documentary-style fine art photography series explores these overlooked industrial areas and their vital, behind-the-scenes role in modern urban life. I return repeatedly, seeking to capture unguarded moments that reveal the area's deeper rhythms.

French anthropologist Marc Augé contended that industrial spaces, with their cold, deliberate, and functional anonymity, amplify our sense of disconnection. These non-spaces embody an edgy vision of industry—a quirky environment that prioritizes efficiency, surveillance, and control over human comfort.

Bayshore presents my quest to create a visual language for these disorienting industrial spaces. It celebrates the prickly beauty found in the industrial margins of every major city—spaces that power our commerce while remaining invisible to most who benefit from them. 

— Rusty Weston, January 2026