Second in this new series of These Three Photographs, where I share, er, three photographs on a similar theme and say a little about them.
This time, rust.
This is not an unusual kind of scene, depending on the towns you hang around. Whilst most shop fronts generally remain respectable, quite often if you can find your way around the back, sights like this await. To me, eminently more beautiful that the public face of the building will ever be.
I love anything that looks weathered, or put another way, anything being incrementally yet relentlessly reclaimed by nature.
This was also an example where the camera was virtually irrelevant. A humble Canon Sprint I picked up amongst a batch of five or six compacts for £10 performing as well as any DSLR might in the circumstances. Certainly a lesson in there for me.
The combination of ancient architecture, and probably the purest silence I have experienced in recent years make them hugely appealing.
Back to the rust, this is the kind of subject I would like to go back and photograph on the same day every year for 20 years, then make a series. As I mentioned after the first photo above, I love the idea of nature taking back what it owns.
Rust is a great equaliser in that it hides the age and origins of objects. I couldn’t tell you whether these gravestone markers were 20 or 220 years old.
For something that’s already this far rusted, I could probably visit in a decade and see absolutely no discernible difference.
Often the colours are the most appealing part of rusting objects, but in this situation a grainy high contrast black and white look seemed to make most sense, and if anything enhances the textures even further.
Do you think I’m crazy seeking out rusted metal, or do you love the deliciously decaying textures and tones, and evidence of nature’s repossession as much as I do? Please let us know in the comments below.
Thanks for reading. Please share this post with others you feel will enjoy it too.