Behind the small stage is a hallway signed by practically every act that walked through its doors. There’s also a pair of palms. Since all the heat in the building collects in this area, it did seem more tropical.
Across the walls of the brick repair shop, near where men and machine entered Shaft No. 3, vines, pipes, and graffiti battle unknowingly for visual prominence.
Strange graffiti in a side room. Someone was having fun…
Looking toward the Female Infirmary Ward from the long, glass, Conservatory hallway.
Serve [unknown] Build… What do you think the middle says? Tell me in the comments.
I like to imagine this as an old-timey radio microphone.
Downtown and the blight.
Looking across the spired rooftop of the Kirkbride building. In the foreground is a fire chute that contains a metal spiral slide designed to evacuate patients in case of a fire. Note the ironwork on the chimney.
Noontime light, long criticized for the boring shadows it grants photographers, comes into its own sometimes.
Fall fog swept up from the river valley, making the building look more like it felt–a ghost, out of time and place.