A tight-winding wooden staircase leads to where the ropes are tied above the stage. I am standing next to the big old film speakers while taking this.
One of the few windows that escaped steel plating the last time the hospital was sealed tight to let nature roam within.
As my friend Jonathan would say, “on a human scale.”
The gothic landing between balcony and classroom level and the ground floor.
The spiral staircase ends in the basement, where two oil tanks (for the lantern) and a freshwater tank (for the Keeper) were stored. The basement consists of two long arched vaults like this.
An experimental shaft dug in the 1950s and its Hoist House.
On the second floor of the kettle building where corn mash was boiled, holes where tanks once sat were everywhere.
At the end of a conveyor belt and poised over a loading station, it’s easy to image the tinny sound of chicken feed sliding across the metal. Like sand on the old-fashioned stainless steel playground slides.