I see so many photographs of old and abandoned buildings. Houses... factories... mills... barns. I've made a few photos of abandoned houses myself. There are quite a lot of them in certain rural parts of Maine. We seem to be more drawn to the old than the new. At least lately. Maybe it's because we as a society are aging. Maybe it's because I'm aging and so that is what I notice...other things that are aging.
Looking at old and abandoned buildings, we can't help but think about what they may have been like in its prime, who the people were who lived there, what events took place in the buildings, and why they were abandoned. An old building holds memories...and mystery. And it holds on tight, because an old and abandoned building is still. No people coming and going and no sounds from appliances or furnaces. Just a dead silence. A stillness. A stillness that is thick and dense and fearsome. A stillness that you can feel rub against you as you walk through it. A stillness that pulls you in and won't let go.
Perhaps this explains our interest in old and abandoned buildings. It's the stillness.
Photograph: Marko Susla. James Van Campen Farmhouse.