This is the love child of marshall mcdonald. I are a photographer. Let me take your picture. // marshallmcdonaldphoto.com // twitter!!! // facebook


164-17 Union Turnpike, Queens, New York, (718) 969-3423

164-17 Union Turnpike, Queens, New York, (718) 969-3423





Skyline, Summer, Soho,… Nikon F100 with a Tri-X load. An ode to the winter.

Skyline, Summer, Soho,…

Nikon F100 with a Tri-X load. An ode to the winter.





Xavier at the Summit, Central Station, Detroit 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. wiki!!!

Xavier at the Summit, Central Station, Detroit

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.

wiki!!!





Dorianne, Rooftop of abandoned warehouse on Hope St. Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY. The overbearing clouds gave no hope to the sun. The separation was cold, bereft of contrast. On the bright side, for a shoot in July, the tar roof was once comfortable on her bare feet.

Dorianne, Rooftop of abandoned warehouse on Hope St. Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY.

The overbearing clouds gave no hope to the sun. The separation was cold, bereft of contrast. On the bright side, for a shoot in July, the tar roof was once comfortable on her bare feet.





weirdness in the photog interview world. I smell shit. 

Earlier today I came across and interview duckrabbit posted with a photog by the name of Martin Nacthwey. The interview seems to be getting lots of buzz in the photoblog community. But here’s the thing - google that name. Find anything aside from the interivew? Me neither. So who the fuck is Martin Nachtwey? See for yourself:

http://duckrabbit.info/blog/2010/07/duckrabbit-exclusive-interview-and-new-picture-by-martin-nachtwey/comment-page-1/#comment-10749

And on that, here’s my comment, awaiting response:

————

Lovely interview. But I’m confused as all hell.

Martin Nachtwey: a name nowhere to be found on google. Try it.

Think I get it…
Ringflash: Martin Schoeller. Easy.
War Photog: James Nachtwey, obviously.
=
Fake interview on a hybrid ringflash-wielding war photographer?

I just found the blog so I’m all sorts of confused. Either this is a regular thing around here, or it’s a ruse to ebay prints. Either way, fucking genius!
Nice print too.

*end comment*

So that’s that. Awaiting some fucking clarification. Something stinky going on here. 





Buried bike, Williamsburg.

Buried bike, Williamsburg.