Jon Bentley
Hidden secrets, tragedy and architectural decay have been captivating photographers ever since the mid-19th century
Why do so many photographers love architectural decay? From America’s Eric Holubow and Johnny Joo, to Niki Feijen from the Netherlands, and Britain’s Rebecca Bathory and Matt Emmett, it seems that an increasing number of image makers, the world over are seeking out derelict buildings to record in loving detail.
Maybe it’s because decay is actually quite attractive. Like painters before them, photographers have been drawn to ruins from the earliest days. William Henry Fox Talbot chose the tomb of Sir Walter Scott buried in the Gothic ruins of Dryburgh Abbey for a shot in 1847, and another 19th- century pioneer, Frederick Archer, made the derelict Kenilworth Castle one of his first subjects. By the 1870s a ‘Society for Photographing Relics of Old London’ was founded.
Textures of flaking paint, crumbling stone and rotting wood can certainly be things of beauty. In recent years, the ability to record decay’s subtle and unexpected colours in greater low-light detail has further strengthened the appeal of decay as a subject. In some circles it’s even now even referred to as ‘ruin porn’.
Power of decay photography
It’s a beauty that’s charged with emotions. I first became fully aware of the power of decay photography when I saw Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre’s now classic book, The Ruins of Detroit. Every picture suggests the fallen pride of this once great city, equalling a masterpiece of Gothic literature in its expression of human mortality and the transience of earthly achievements.
Like much photography, the genre exploits time. Here is time past, captured after its sell-by date and, one imagines, only just before it disappears forever. There is also a sense of suspended animation. In the shots of Detroit, police offices are complete with scattered criminal records, books are abandoned in a library practically in mid-sentence and pianos lie overturned, as if in a moment of pique. Were it not for the festering materials and flaky cascading paintwork the people could have left the scene just that moment.
And there’s another contemporary factor adding to this heady photographic mix: urban exploration. Penetrating abandoned buildings to gain a normally unseen perspective on the built environment is a burgeoning interest. From the photographer’s point of view, there’s the thrill of the chase, all the hurdles to overcome to capture the image, be they fences and security guards or the hazards of rotten floors and cascading ceilings. From the viewer’s perspective there’s the classically definitive appeal of photography – its ability to reveal things that are otherwise hidden from view.
Decay is so popular because it’s the perfect photographic storm. It is an irresistible mix of beauty, tragedy, the expression of time, the capture of the elusive, and the allure of the hidden. Long may it continue. Decrepitude has a great photographic future.
‘Decay is so popular because it’s the perfect photographic storm’