11-FEB-2013
The Flamingo Apartments, Lake City, Florida, 2013
The Tamiami Trail (US. 41 from Miami to Tampa) is rich in vintage treasures, such as the Flamingo Apartments, formerly known as the Flamingo Motel. Just outside Lake City, its cinderblock green and pink signage, first erected in the 1930s, changes selling points as the times change. Its present owner gave us a postcard showing how this sign appeared in the 1960s. Freshly painted in green and white, and bearing the image of a small white flamingo, it then advertised “electric heat, tubs, and showers.” Today’s sign shows far more wear and tear (the owner told us that several cars have run into it over the years), and while the tubs and showers are still features (even if lost in the weeds), the current emphasis is on “cable.” The boldly lettered “APT” on this sign, along with the well used couches gracing the porch in the background of this image, tell us that this establishment’s current marketing approach is apparently geared to long term, instead of daily, stays. I filled the frame of this image with greenery from edge to edge, abstracting half the sign in the process, and building meaning layer by layer. The worn green paint, the faded pink flamingo, and the ornamental arrangement of utilitarian cinder blocks combine to symbolize the essence of persistence itself: this place was built during the great depression, surviving decades of war, peace, boom, and bust – yet somehow it still manages to play a role in Lake City’s lodging business.
15-FEB-2013
CNN Atrium, Atlanta, Georgia, 2013
Seven CNN logos fight for attention in this soaring view of the spectacular atrium that is home to this cable network’s offices and studios. Using a 28mm wideangle lens and shooting straight up, I anchor the scene by leading the eye from the huge diagonal ramp at lower right to the multi story globe symbolizing CNN’s international presence, where visitors begin their studio tours. That globe, in turn, beckons towards a wall of windows filled with blue sky and a huge American flag, which proclaims CNN’s national identity. The multiplicity of CNN’s ubiquitous trademark symbols leaves no doubt as to who lives and works here, and the very scale of this atrium intensifies their sense of importance. (These logos do not even end there – they keep coming at us in reflection as well.) Ultimately, this signage symbolize the network’s very purpose: when it comes to news, CNN’s efforts are felt virtually everywhere on earth, and no more so than within its own home.
17-NOV-2011
Confused, Haifa, Israel, 2011
A visitor emerging from the Port of Haifa and entering the city itself will be confronted by this bewildering mass of signage, much of it in Hebrew. A line of traffic flows around a person who pauses in the grass, seemingly overwhelmed by the confusing mélange of arrows, symbols, warnings, and directions. It is an incongruous scene, perhaps making sense to an Israeli viewer, but certainly a daunting experience for a foreign visitor. (I did not have to worry – I made this image through the front window of a tour bus. I assumed our driver knew where he was going.) All of this history becomes secondary to the moment at hand.
14-SEP-2011
Tamales today, Cuenca, Ecuador, 2011
This is one of the most humble storefronts I found in Cuenca. A man and simple stove within a darkened doorway, make up a business in itself. His sign is hand-lettered – on this day he is featuring tamales, humitas (a steamed corn cake), coffee, and tortillas. He gazes at us, wondering if would like a taste. No matter how simple his sign, we know exactly what he has to offer, and when.
27-JUL-2011
Bargain prices, Pittsfield, Massachusetts, 2011
The four signs hanging in the upper windows of this vintage Pittsfield building are intended as advertising puns. They certainly call attention to the presence of the clever marketer who hung them.
The building itself offers an unusual counterpoint – it, too, calls attention to itself through the orange tiling that ornaments the brick façade. The rain clouds drifting overhead add still another dimension to the image.
14-APR-2011
For Sale, Miami, Arizona, 2011
I found this old gas pump for sale in an antique store window. There are two “For Sale” signs in this image – the price of “this sale” on the pump itself, and the attached price of the old pump itself. The gas sale forever remains free, while the tag for the pump asks for $2,800. A third price is included at the bottom of the frame – the last delivery of gasoline to this pump was priced at 29 cents a gallon. (Those were days when there were no dollar signs imprinted next to the gallon price.) I found the price differentials here to be both incongruous and thought provoking. We can’t buy any gas anywhere for 29 cents a gallon these days, yet we are asked here to spend nearly $3,000 for a vintage gas pump.
23-APR-2011
The Babe still sells, Cordes Junction, Arizona, 2011
Baseball’s legendary Babe Ruth retired in 1935, yet 75 years later, his faded visage still pitches Red Rock Cola for a nickel a bottle. I found this old sign on the porch of the Cordes Junction general store, a nostalgic reminder of a simpler time. I give the rectangular sign a jolt of energy by tilting the camera to create a diagonal composition. The diagonal plays against the round baseball and the round moon-face of Ruth within it.
23-APR-2011
Cereal tin, Rock Springs Café, Rock Springs, Arizona, 2011
This cereal tin goes back to the early years of the 20th century. Today it is displayed within a cabinet at a café that is nearly as old. I exposed on the bright yellow tin with my spot metering mode, making the tin seem unsupported, as if floating in time. The scholarly signage on the tin speaks of youth and intelligence, while the dress of the child dates the box to its period. Part of the wooden cabinet can be seen at left. It adds context and a touch of warmth to the image.
23-APR-2011
Façade, Rock Springs Café, Rock Springs, Arizona, 2022
A classic American roadhouse, the Rock Springs Café has drawn travelers to its tables for 93 years. Founded in 1918, along with a hotel, it stands along the stage route that one connected Phoenix with Prescott, a former Arizona capital. The cafe sells more than 50,000 pies a year to travelers along the present Interstate 17 that runs between Phoenix and Flagstaff. The café signage emphasizes the pies that wait within. I layer the massive pie on the facade with fluttering pennants that decorate the establishment.
01-JAN-2011
Art imitates life, St. Barts, French West Indies, 2011
The back of a St. Bart’s bar is painted to resemble a tropical paradise, which is, of course, exactly as St. Barts bills itself to the world. I liked the way the real palms reach out to embrace the painted ones. Meanwhile, signage is frantically at work here as well. A signpost bearing eight small signs incongruously aims its arrows at the only door in the image – the entrance to the bar’s toilet. It is locked, and the small blue signs on the door inform guests, in French and English, to get the key from the bartender. The signpost itself, which herald “The Route of the Pirates,” urges guests to take advantage of the bars many other special features.
01-JAN-2011
Please wait, St. Barts, French West Indies, 2011
In this day of cellular communication, the old pay phone is rapidly vanishing from sight. But on this remote Caribbean island, not everyone’s cell phone works, and this vividly blue pay phone stands ready to help to those willing and able to follow complex instructions. I moved in on the instructional signage to stress those complexities. I put the viewer in the shoes of someone trying to make a call. The key to it all is finding the “instruction” button we are supposed to press somewhere within this barrage of signage. Hint: it seems to be half-hidden under the curling label.
08-SEP-2010
Full time patriot, Mission Beach, San Diego, California, 2010
This home, near Mission Bay, juxtaposes a starless wooden flag with a window wreath made out of painted red, white, and blue bells, wrapped in tiny flag streamers, most likely as symbols of the owner’s own patriotism.
06-SEP-2010
Surfing rentals, Mission Beach, San Diego, California, 2010
This surfing rentals shop is a study in signage. Not only does the signage identify the function of the store – it also seems to be a clearinghouse for local rock music concerts as well. The sales person wears a t-shirt that carries an obscure form of signage, and even the potential customers proclaim their identity on their tattooed skins, which function as a form of personal signage. When viewed together, these various forms of signage blend to express a lifestyle defining much of Mission Beach itself.
03-SEP-2010
Big Olaf, Pacific Beach, San Diego, California, 2010
Big Olaf makes a colorful splash on the Pacific Beach Boardwalk. This take-out ice cream shop paints its building lime green and adorns its walls with hand-made oversized advertising posters that shout refreshment in near-neon term. The two customers, absorbed by Big Olaf’s bright red plastic chairs, seem to become almost part of the advertising. The image celebrates the beach culture and its pursuit of pleasure.
09-SEP-2010
Peeling sign, Mission Beach, San Diego, California, 2010
I noticed the peeling letter “A” in this sign, and built this image around it. I cropped the sign, retaining the word “The” and the middle four letters of the word “Boardwalk.” The letters, each of their colors cleverly stylized to symbolize the sea, surf, sand, and sun, become more incongruously expressive when seen out of context, as does the fact that the final letter is peeling away from its base, another incongruous touch that might speak of tight money and hard times.
09-SEP-2010
Closed, Mission Beach, San Diego, California, 2010
Sailor Jerry, a store that most likely sells beach accessories in this resort community, is closed. The “Wooden Indian” – a sign that symbolized tobacco stores since the 19th century – has been locked away inside, and peers through a door plastered with labels and ads promoting relatively obscure organizations and products. The most important sign in the window is, of course, the closed sign. The shop will open later, and the Wooden Indian will take his usual place on Mission Boulevard. But for now, the door’s windows will reflect those who wait for admittance.
21-JUL-2010
Bennington Pottery, Bennington, Vermont, 2010
The graphic power of this pottery company sign lies in its ambiguity. At first glance, it seems like a giant fork, but on closer inspection, an extended thumb turns it into a hand, symbolic of the skilled hands that “throw” ceramic objects into life here. I partially abstract the sign by exposing for the highlights, throwing the hand into the shadows. The two colors of bricks seem to intensify its presence.
27-MAY-2010
Motel welcome sign, Tetonia, Idaho, 2010
Tetonia, a town of only 250 people, is located within sight of the Grand Teton Range (on a clear day). We stayed at one of its vintage motels, which featured a cowboy welcome sign out front. I photographed the back of it at dusk, waving to no one in particular.
28-MAY-2010
First nuclear power plant, Arco, Idaho, 2010
Arco was the first place in the US to have its electrical power generated by a nuclear power plant. A neon sign marking the historic fact still glows on the walls of the plant, but only half of the sign is illuminated.
14-NOV-2009
Evening, Kayenta, Arizona, 2009
Neon signs featuring the logos of two of America’s premiere fast food outlets blaze in the rain along the main street of this town on the Navajo Indian reservation. A long message board, periodically flashing special offerings, shows a slice of American heraldry just as I shot this image, while traffic rumbles past in the background. All of it is wrapped in utility wiring. Here, on the very outskirts of Monument Valley itself, a town salutes a pair of rural American icons: the automobile and the fast food parlor.
12-NOV-2009
Superceded, Bluff, Utah, 2009
The simple sign heralding the approach to a café/gas stop seems to vanish behind a home made sign for a campsite and RV Park. Nearly every foot of space is filled with news of its many features, all of it inscribed by hand in upper case letters. The pair of signs is set amidst the brilliant fall foliage, a virtual jibe at nature. At left rests a rusting piece of machinery – a fittingly incongruous context for an advertisement appealing to the owners of recreational vehicles.
17-OCT-2009
For sale, Kiev, Ukraine, 2009
A “For Sale” sign provides the context here, while the content comes to us through an abundance of detail and a moment stopped forever in time. This building lines one of Kiev’s most famous streets, a hill known as “Andrew’s Descent.” Home to artists and writers since the 19th century, the street is still alive with galleries, museum, and artists selling their work. This old building appears to be in the process of some restoration. As we passed by, I photographed a woman working her way through the old metal door carrying a banana carton. A dolly with two other cartons awaits. A well-stocked artist’s stall beckons at the left. Two empty stalls stand at the right. Is she an artist, moving her work to a stall? Or is she just cleaning stuff out of the building? The answers to such questions are unknown, but they will certainly kindle the imagination of the viewer.
20-SEP-2009
Directions, Montreal, Canada, 2009
Old Montreal dates back to days when France ruled the city. Today, this section of the city, which sits hard by the St. Lawrence River, is a historic district, drawing tourists from all over the world. These directional signs offer a vivid contrast of Montreal -- then and now. The shadows that flow from them link some of the city’s historic 18th century gems to a 21st century fashion statement.
23-SEP-2009
Big smile, Toronto, Canada, 2009
This mural covers nearly a city block. It is signage promoting one of the city’s clubs along Queen Street. Using a 24mm lens, I was able to stretch the subject to stress the sweep of its incongruous lips, teeth, and the rays that flow out of it on both sides. I waited for a sole pedestrian to enter the frame, which gives the image its sense of scale incongruity. The sign itself is incongruous as well – there are no teeth, for example, on the bottom. But there are 30 of them on top, some featuring light fixtures and windows. I thank the delightful pbase photographer Jude Marion, (judespics) who spent an afternoon shooting with me in Toronto, and took me to Queen Street where I photographed this amazing sign.
29-SEP-2009
Pizzeria, Jasper, Canada, 2009
Lou Lou’s Pizzeria is hard to miss. Its sign has become something of a local landmark for tourists visiting nearby Jasper National Park. It features a life-sized child feeding a slice of pizza to a hungry but friendly bear. The kid does not like to share. I made this image from across the street, using a 300mm telephoto focal length to weld the couple to the façade of the restaurant.
19-JUN-2009
Directions, Jacksonville, Oregon, 2009
A family crosses a main intersection in downtown Jacksonville. I was delighted by the profusion of signage at this intersection, and layered the signs, starting with the large vintage sign painted on the wall in the background, continuing with the highway route, and the mileage to nearby towns signs in the middle ground, and finally ending with the stop sign in the foreground. I photographed a number of groups crossing the street, but this family was the most expressive. The man’s shirt echoes the green sign above him, and repeats the faint striped pattern of the bricks on the wall. The bright red canopy of the stroller picks up the red in the background wall and the stop sign, while the scale of the child’s tiny feet provide an incongruous contrast to the adult feet striding on both sides of it.
21-JUN-2009
Western outfitter, Portland, Oregon, 2009
The vintage brick arch on the background building frames the neon sign of a western outfitter in downtown Portland. I walked entirely around this store, which covers a city block, to find the right vantage point. From this angle, the light was at my back, and the curve of the brick arch offered a period background echo for the curving horses neck in this venerable sign, which probably has been in place since the 1930s.
31-MAY-2009
Faded advertisement, Austin, Texas, 2009
I found a split personality within this old sign advertising chewing gum. The right side of the sign has faded away into the brickwork, while the left side, albeit soiled, retains much of its original presence. I thought this split metaphorically echoes the fatal flaw in chewing gum itself – its flavor always fades away, too fast and too soon.
13-APR-2009
Recycling, Cordes, Arizona, 2009
Cordes is a semi-ghost town. Its handful of residents manage to get by, some by being as thrifty as possible. Such as this property owner who incongruously used an old refrigerator door as a no trespassing sign. I photographed this from a number of angles. I could have shot it from the other side, showing its handle, but losing some of that twisting dirt country road as context. So I sacrificed the handle, and made a stronger image out of it as a result. For those who might not immediately recognize it as a refrigerator door, this caption will suffice.
14-APR-2009
Baking Powder, Hackberry, Arizona, 2009
The old baking powder sign, painted in copper colors a long time ago, stands rusting in the cluttered yard of the Hackberry General Store, alongside of Historic Route 66 in Northern Arizona. It is hard to tell where the paint ends and the rust begins, and that is what drew me to this sign. Half the fun of making this picture was deciphering its message. I leave to my viewers to figure it out for themselves.
09-OCT-2008
Administration Building, Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, 2008
A herd of female elk had occupied the front yard of Yellowstone Park’s administration building. Most of them were relaxing, but when I walked over to the building’s directional sign, two of them walked over and stood just behind it. By juxtaposing the sign with the elk, I’ve given the sign incongruous context and given the elk a rallying point.
12-OCT-2008
Red light, Salt Lake City, Utah, 2008
The red light is a traffic sign, telling us when we should stop and when we can go. At the moment, it has stopped us in our tracks in front of the enormous Mormon Temple. The light becomes a symbol that can go beyond its traffic function. Given this context, the stoplight can be symbolically asking us to stop to ponder the church’s enormous political and economic impact on this city and state. Some might even see it as an expression of secular protest. Ultimately I leave the message to the eye of the beholder.
09-OCT-2008
Stop Sign, Cooke City, Montana, 2008
There is much construction going on just outside of Yellowstone Park’s Northeast Entrance. We were asked to stop by this woman holding a stop sign. I made this photo from the window of a car. I do not try to show the whole sign in this image. The color and shape and bottom part of the word is enough to make the point. I was more interested in the stoic patience of the woman herself. It is bitter cold and snowflakes are swirling around her, yet her semi-frozen face betrays no emotion whatsoever.
12-OCT-2008
Signage, Salt Lake City, Utah, 2008
The logo of the Union Pacific Railroad dominates this image. It identifies Salt Lake City’s old union depot. I made this photograph from several blocks away, which enables me to add traffic lights, directional signage, block numbers, traffic warnings, and even a reference to the Winter Olympics, which were held in Salt Lake City in 2002. My 400mm telephoto zoom compresses distance here, flattening all of these signs into a single plane, even though some of them may be blocks apart.
06-OCT-2008
Elkhorn arch, Afton, Wyoming, 2008
A large arch, made up entirely of antlers shed by male elk, dominates the business district Afton. It was, in affect, a sign for the entire town. On top of the arch are two-dimensional figures of fighting elk. I limit my frame to just those figures and the rain clouds that loom overhead. In doing this, I abstract the scene, removing the busy street below, and the arch that supports them. Instead, I symbolize the nature of the place itself – a town that is largely supported by tourists visiting nearby Yellowstone Park and its elk herds.
11-OCT-2008
No gas, Freedom, Wyoming, 2008
Mormon polygamists established Freedom, near the Idaho state line, in 1879 to escape arrest for polygamy by Idaho police. The town was named for the freedom it gave these early settlers. Today, Freedom is a semi-ghost town. Its gas pump stands empty and abandoned in the winter snow. The small broken sign in the window behind it sums up the current state of Freedom.
10-OCT-2008
Roosevelt Arch, Yellowstone National Park, Montana, 2008
The most historic sign in Yellowstone National Park is the arch that dominates the park’s first major entrance. In 1903, the Northern Pacific Railway brought tourists to Yellowstone by building tracks to Gardiner, Montana. The small town and its surrounding area lacked sufficient visual fanfare to serve as gateway to America’s first and most famous national park. Locals started building an arch to mark the spot where the park itself began to unfold. While the arch was being built, President Theodore Roosevelt came to Yellowstone for a two-week visit. He was invited to participate in its dedication before 3,000 people, and arrived on horseback. He helped lay the cornerstone of the arch and made a speech extolling the wonders of Yellowstone Park. Eight words from that speech were later placed on the arch. When I made this wideangle photograph of the arch under a dramatic canopy of massive storm clouds, only one person and one car were visible in the wintry landscape. The design and texture of the arch is very much a product of its time. It seems as “rough and ready” as Teddy Roosevelt himself, and today it carries his name into the 21st century as it welcomes visitors to Yellowstone.
09-OCT-2008
Beer taps, The Bistro, Cooke City, Montana, 2008
Signs the traveler encounters can be as massive as the Roosevelt Arch on the preceding page of my cyberbook, or as small as the labels on the beer taps in a local restaurant. I liked the way that light, shadow, and color interact in evoking the past. These beer taps seem to be almost as old as the Roosevelt Arch.
10-OCT-2008
Restaurant sign, Gardiner, Montana, 2008
We had a dinner and breakfast at this restaurant in Gardiner, just outside the North entrance to Yellowstone Park. The restaurant’s sign itself is pure commercial art, but its vintage western motif matches the rustic nature of the snow-covered sled that sits below it. The curving “Yellowstone” in the title echoes the curve in the front of the sled and makes the two elements into one.
16-SEP-2008
Second Hand Store, Chiloquin, Oregon, 2008
The huge red hand is incongruously large, and the symbolic play on words is amusing. I use the geometry created by the store itself as context – the hand seems almost as large as the establishment it advertises.
16-SEP-2008
O’Kane Building, Bend, Oregon, 2008
The O’Kane Building is Bend’s oldest, dating back to 1916. It was built in the early years of the town’s booming lumber industry. The name of the city itself is set in stained glass in the center of its wavy windows. This one virtually vibrates, as it embraces the warm colors of the light within. It symbolizes the simple elegance of another time.
18-SEP-2008
Drug Store, Hood River, Oregon, 2008
The drug store within this building has become a toy store, yet its refurbished 1920’s sign dominates the center of town and gives this community a symbolic vision of its own roots. It also recalls a long gone era of photography itself, an era replete with folding cameras and the now nearly obsolete medium of film. I include the diagonal slope of the yellow curb, leading to a yellow hydrant, as context. That curb, and the fence above it, echo the thrust of the bold line underscoring the name of the drug store itself.
17-SEP-2008
Fire Engine, Shaniko, Oregon, 2008
This fire engine has been abandoned, and the paint of its lettering has faded just as the town it once served has gone into decline. I photograph the fading lettering as a symbol of a virtual ghost town. Red is an energetic color but the harsh climate has eroded its vitality, just as time and economic changes have taken the bloom off Shaniko itself.
16-SEP-2008
Balsinger Ford Agency, Klamath Falls, Oregon, 2008
Built in 1929, the home of the long gone Balsinger Ford Agency stands as one of the last surviving examples of Egyptian Art Deco architecture. It has been refurbished, and is now used for social events. I juxtaposed the vividly colored Egyptian symbolism with the Ford logo, two signs that seem at first to bear little relationship to each other. Yet the passage of time provides an odd linkage – the gods of ancient Egypt are now historical artifacts, and so is the Ford dealership that originally built this house of the gods.
17-SEP-2008
Out of business, Shaniko, Oregon, 2008
Shaniko was a booming wool town one hundred years ago. Today it is a ghost town. Two thirds of the town, including its hotel and café, has been purchased privately, shut down, and put up for sale. Among the closures is the building reflected in this window. Cobwebs, a “closed” sign, and the shuttered hotel across the street, symbolize the present state of Shaniko.
11-SEP-2008
Jailhouse, Greenville, California, 2008
The amusing sign on the wall of this tiny 19th century jail was unique enough to photograph. The barred window gives it context. I shot the sign through a break in a nearby tree, to add a layer of symbolic context. The leaves add a lighthearted mood to what otherwise could be a grim image.
16-SEP-2008
General Store, Chemult, Oregon, 2008
An abundance of symbols add context in which to place the ice cream cone sign in this image. Ice cream cones are very American, and the scoops on the sign are embraced by the American flag. The other signs, advertisements in Spanish, symbolize the diversity of the American population, even in rural Oregon. Two other symbols offer contrast: an overflowing trash can suggests waste, while the shattered wagon wheel resting next to it symbolizes the darker side of the history of the American west. Taken as a whole, we can see American culture from both positive and negative views here.
17-SEP-2008
Layered history, Antelope, Oregon, 2008
This image is made of three layers. The bottom layer is the original 19th century brick building. Over the years the bricks have been whitewashed, and once sported a massive red, white and blue motor oil sign. That sign has weathered away, replaced by a humble gray board announcing the presence of the “Antelope Mercantile Mart.” The wall offers
a symbolic mosaic of contradiction, contrast, coherence and incoherence.
17-SEP-2008
No Peddlers, Antelope, Oregon, 2008
This “No Peddlers” sign is festooned in glittery stars and flanked with a banner of contiguous American flags. Americans take pride in being an open society, yet here we see an exclusionary sign dramatically flanked with patriotic embellishments. Incongruous symbols in juxtaposition tell the story.
13-SEP-2008
No Trespassing, Pondosa, California, 2008
Years of weathering has turned this sign into an abrupt command that works on four levels. The words are self-explanatory. The upper case typography is forbidding. And the combination of faded blue letters and dirt-coated silvery background add a layer of negative symbolism. The massive rusty nails punctuate the message.
15-SEP-2008
Remnant, Klamath Falls, Oregon, 2008
A stubborn remnant of Klamath Falls’ past clings to the side of a downtown office building. While the old sign’s content is now illegible, it once advertised a business that has probably long since vanished. The symbolic mass of faded paint asks more of the imagination than the intellect.
15-SEP-2008
Refreshment, Klamath Falls, Oregon, 2008
There is an abundance of signage on this vending machine near the Oregon State Tourist Bureau. But the dominant feature here is the gesturing candy bar. I’ve tried to bring candy bar to life by filling half of my frame with a stone wall. The head of the candy bar seems to explode out of it, as if it has just spotted us looking its way. The layering effect animates the image, bracketing the gesturing candy bar between the wall and the smaller figure of a chocolate bar. By humanizing this candy bar, we see it as a symbolic invitation to pleasure.
16-SEP-2008
Restrooms, Chemult, Oregon, 2008
The large scale of the faded Restrooms sign on this abandoned service station is even more incongruous given the battered context in which I place it. The sign is offering a service to customers who will never again use it. The dilapidated wall and overgrown yard symbolically tell us so. The door remains stoutly locked, but its scarred surface tells us of the blows it has received from vandals.
17-SEP-2008
Hotel window, Shaniko, Oregon, 2008
The ornate lettering of the sign on the window of the Hotel Shaniko is the focal point of this image. Adding context is the wavy reflection of buildings that surround it. The reflected buildings and the lacy curtain floating behind the window symbolize Shaniko as the ghost town it has become.
16-SEP-2008
A blizzard of signs, Chiloquin, Oregon, 2008
We have come to take signage pollution for granted, filtering out the signs that mean nothing or little to us, and focusing only the signage of interest. The camera, however, brings a much less selective eye to the scene. We must force it to shoot selectively. In this image, I deliberately shoot unselectively, because I wanted to replicate what is really out there on this street.. Chiloquin is a small town, yet the level of signage pollution is very high, dominated by the signage of the gas station in the foreground. There is also a banner curled upon itself hanging over the main street, a stop sign, street sign, and furniture store signage crowding this image. These symbolic signs tell a story: there is so much here to sell, and so few to sell it to.
16-SEP-2008
Choices, Bend, Oregon, 2008k
This restaurant is tucked away in the back of a small shopping complex. It is patronized primarily by locals, who already know what they want to eat, and order accordingly. An outsider is faced with the daunting task of reading this specials menu, which is scrawled on a blackboard in six colors of chalk. (It is much easier to read the “fee for whining” sign than to read the menu.) A closer look takes us into the kitchen itself, where still more signs and labels appear. I wanted my viewers to partake of the same travel experience here that I did. And so I offer this chaotic symbolic jumble of simple choices, yet made as difficult as possible.
16-SEP-2008
That good coffee, Chemult, Oregon, 2008
The restaurant signage in the previous image was complex and almost illegible. The restaurant signage in this image is simple and easy to read. And so I organized this image accordingly, building its coherence around two primary colors, red and yellow. The restaurant serves not just any coffee -- it prides itself on serving “THAT GOOD coffee.”
By symbolically summing up their prize product so simply, the restaurant makes it easy for their customers to grasp. And I make this image just as simple.
15-SEP-2008
The Candidate, Klamath Falls, Oregon, 2008
Since candidates for President of the United States can’t appear in person in every little city and town, a full color, life sized cardboard sign often provides a surrogate. I found this surreal cardboard likeness of John McCain staring back at me through the locked glass door of the local Republican Party headquarters at 1022 Main Street. The symbolic “behind closed doors” metaphor here is well suited to any political subject. McCain’s two-dimensional stand-in was wearing a bizarre red T-shirt promoting his candidacy, adding an unintentionally incongruous twist. I also made sure to include the credit card stickers plastered on the glass door in my image – politicians are always in need of contributions. As for that “Please use other door” request, it posed a touch of delicious irony. The rival Democratic Party headquarters was located just next door.
16-SEP-2008
The Wagon Wheel Café, Chemult, Oregon, 2008
This sign, up on top of the café, is definitely indeed to be seen by night, rather than in the unsparing light of day. I used my full 420mm zoom to reveal the truth about this sign. Its neon might work perfectly, but the condition of the paint incongruously screams for repairs, a symbol of neglect. I wonder how many patrons even bother to look up at it? The locals probably take it for granted, and out of towners will first see it from a distance, and by the time they get close, their eyes will already be on the parking lot.