
This is the love child of marshall mcdonald. I are a photographer. Let me take your picture. // marshallmcdonaldphoto.com // twitter!!! // facebook
Spent last weekend in jail, downtown Brooklyn.
Photographing abandoned spaces can be dangerous business. You run into the wrong security guard and you find yourself facing felony assault with bite marks on your leg. I guess that’s all I can say until September. Woop. I got good friends.
Marshall what an ending! I didnt expect less from u. Haha u rule it ! Dumbest thing on earth… I hope it wasn’t that terrible and that they treated u well. We love u so fucking much! Listen to your fucking french mom from now!!! We are on the plane and wanna tell you one more time what a fucking dumbass you are and a fucking incredible friend!
-Alice, Friend
I didn’t get to say goodbye to her and Xavier; my lovely roommates who made this Summer so enjoyable. Sorry I missed you. The man is keeping me down.
Hey man, my mom said she talked to your mom a couple of days ago and she asked if I was still in NY cuz you really needed my help? I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but let me know.
-Ronnie, Cousin
Bro. Are you in Jail?
- Jae, Friend
Oh Boy. So yr in jail. Ok. If you want me to come home tonight just fuckin say when kid. On my way back to bk. I sure hope you ain’t still in lockup.
- Lara, Complicated friend
And this. So sweet.
me and jae been on the hunt for you. pleeease let us know when you can that yr in 1 fucking piece and not in too much trouble!!!
-Lara, again.
From the only lab in the US of A that still develops Kodachrome:
Dwayne’s says it will develop remaining Kodachrome rolls if they are received by Dec. 30, 2010. After that, forget it. Kodachrome developing is a complex proprietary process involving special chemicals and added dyes. It’s not something that can be easily duplicated in a home darkroom, and photographers who have tried to improvise their own version say that it produces a degraded (or worse, blank) image.
Get some. Be the last to develop this beautiful, impossible to process, overpriced film.
Full article here.
You are on the road right now, my friend. Route 66 takes you to fruitful California where you’ll trade your cargo-pants for car insurance and that beautiful beard for a masters in film… AFI. Greatness. Like ol’ Tom Joad, almost fresh out of jail.
We had an argument on Friday, something I guess I do when I know I’m about to lose somebody as important as you. Over the weekend I thought that was it. I was stumped at the thought of those being the parting words. What were they anyway? What a stupid fucking argument.
But you took one more voyage through the hot concrete. Brooklyn! And that argument we once had made last nights goodbye sweet harmony. I was late for work this morning. UNION POOL PBR VEGAN DINNER DUCK DUCK WHISKEY SPECIAL L TRAIN ACTUALLY RUNNING ON THE WAY HOME. THANK GOD.
We met 4+ years ago. Knowing you has changed my definition on the lifespan and quality of a friendship in this goddamn city.
Drive safe out there.
Love, Marshall
Mamiya 6x7, Kodak 100NC.
We swept it; we covered 16 stories of abandonment.
Michigan Central Station was designed by Warren and Wetmore in 1913, the same architects behind New York’s Grand Central. Both monstrous stations went up the same year, so you can’t help but think W&W stretched themselves pretty thin. I guess it’s apparent where the focus was: 42nd and Park…shouldn’t it be? Detroit was doomed from the start. The station’s placement alone is baffling.
The concourse at ground level was big, and maze-like. It took about 30 minutes to find a means for getting elevated, but we knew the roof was accessible. Deathtraps disguised themselves as functional stairwells. Offices looked like pillbox bunkers. Elevator shafts were uncomfortably black…elevators weren’t doing shit for you. It was a funhouse. Once walls, now sweeping vistas. Once hallways, now catwalks. Once ceilings, now floors… etc… everything misplaced.
We got to the top - took us about 3 hours - and we sat; we fucking enjoyed it. So you have this picture. The air was cleaner up there. We took breath. We smoked. Click.
Curiosity wears you out in a place like this. Going up floor by floor, scouring each for a revelation, refusing to believe no two layouts are the same (even though most were). But the top was the exception. Floor boards were planked and the widest in the building. Walls didn’t exist inside the perimeter. It was so open. Brick mountains were scattered about. Brick. Piping and wiring hung down and stuck up. Large windows and peak elevation brought on sun damage; all of the above contorted.
See it before it goes.
I’m not sure what city we were in. I’ve been to that cabin 10 times and I still don’t know what city it was in. It was one of the best nights of my life. I was heartbroken and blissful, knowing this was it. This was the last night we see the boos, those wonderful ladies on their own turf. The last fire was the loudest. The last naked dip in the pond the coldest, longest, the furthest from the shore. It was the last time to rehearse past times about this place. This was it. The last photo. And it was perfect.

Abandoned Boat in the Packard Plant, Detroit, MI. Over 40 buildings on 3.5 million sq. feet of property, left for dead. Beautiful and heartbreaking.

Talks of tear-down / clean-up are in the works. Sounds like the city of Detroit was having a bit of trouble figuring out who was responsible for the extinct plants remains.
But that’s no longer the case, thanks to a… Banksy piece…??
Woodstock. Alice and Ronnie.