There's nothing to see here, folks

What is the mission of anonymous-looking urban buildings?

Stealth-mode buildings discourage interaction. And most businesses seek just the opposite, choosing to build brand awareness and customer engagement. Yet, San Francisco’s Bayshore, an industrial enclave within the larger Bayview neighborhood, is thick with gray, unnamed structures that aspire to anonymity. Razor-wire fences, metal-barred windows, and glaring motion-activated lights are the most memorable features of these mini-fortresses. 

We’re meant to conclude that there’s “nothing to see here.” But it’s probably just the opposite. These days we assume this bunker mentality is mandated by their lawyers or insurers. Even small businesses take maximal security measures, regardless of their actual risk or potential liabilities. Are hostile looking buildings simply physical shelters or the expression of a company’s dark view about everyone lurking beyond their gates? In my view, this safety posture vibe sows distrust and alienation. 

I’m at work on a documentary project that explores urban industrial areas, but I’m not intending to celebrate their often hostile vibe. On the contrary, I’m aiming to expose and explain it, and reveal the weirdness and humor I find in these strangely compelling spaces. I’m sharing some of this new work on Instagram, and there’s much more yet to come. Let me know if you have any thoughts or ideas you’d like me to consider.

A window seat into volatility

Disruptions have become the new normal during the pandemic. Many shops and restaurants have closed; some permanently. Outdoor dining spaces called parklets have sprouted for those who prefer to dine outside. At night, street light moves through parklet “windows” in volatile ways creating unique abstractions that change shape in a matter of moments.

That’s the effect that inspired my new series called Night Glass. I’m still shooting the series on chilly San Francisco nights. Let me know what you think.

Untitled 63 from the series Night Glass shot through San Francisco restaurant parklet windows

In a Dark Time ...

High Definition, shot South of Market in S.F. during the Pandemic.

“In a dark time, the eye begins to see” - Theodore Roethke, American poet 

I’ve always admired Roethke’s sentiment, and now that we’re living through a dark time, like everyone else, I’m putting that idea to the test. But what does that idea mean exactly? As a former journalist, I tend to take a critical look at my surroundings both in good times and in bad. In reviewing my Cerrado series images, I see what’s resonating with me now, and it’s not watching sea lions on Fisherman's Wharf—it’s what’s happening to my fellow citizens and our city. 

To see clearly in a dark time, one must be willing to accept what they see, which is perhaps the biggest challenge of all. I recently posted a handful of images in a social media group where the idea is to share art we’re producing during the Pandemic. Unsurprisingly, on a spectrum of serious-to-joyful, joyful images are the most warmly received. Reassurance is the priority. 

Unfortunately, reassurance is not what I’m seeing, feeling, or experiencing in the 47 square miles of my city. At least, not now. However, I aim to capture beauty everywhere, even if it highlights decay. This is an evolving story and I intend to evolve with it. Stay safe, friends.