During the last three years I have been obsessively documenting the interiors of a group of abandoned greenhouses, which are scheduled to be demolished in 2007, located in Northeastern Ohio. I hope to photograph these abandoned structures to chart the various stages of growth and decay at different times of the day throughout the year. Conceptually, this body of work is an examination of the Garden of Eden as an abandoned site. The Garden questions the historical depiction of the American landscape as the Garden of Eden. In The Garden, I am interested in looking at our contemporary American landscape as the Garden of Eden and re-framing it in the post-September 11th perspective. Metaphorically, The Garden is not limited to the portrayal of death and despair but also to the portrayal of hope and regeneration.
In January of 2004, I accidentally discovered the abandoned greenhouse structures while scouting locations to stage my photographs for another series. Located approximately two miles apart, each of the two structures is made up of approximately 30 separate greenhouses—each with its unique eco-system. The greenhouses are located on 300 acres of land that have belonged to the same family since 1860. In 1963, a year after the current owner’s birth, the greenhouses were built to grow tomatoes and operated by the family until 1975 (when it became apparent that the family could no longer afford the high heating cost). During the past 30 years, each of the greenhouses has been left undisturbed and has developed its own appearance based on what was being grown originally in addition to what new vegetation species were introduced by birds and other wildlife. Besides plant life I have also encountered deer, birds, rabbits, and wildcats that have made the abandoned structures their homes. Some of the greenhouses are completely overgrown with trees and thick vines coming out of their roof—making them only partially accessible during the winter. I was drawn by the visual and conceptual relationships of these formidable geometric human-made structures and the organic shapes of the contained nature. As if from the perspective of a natural scientist or archeologist, I have become increasingly compulsive with the act of observing and recording the abandoned greenhouse interiors as future relics of a human-made paradise.
In both aesthetics and approach The Garden is a departure from my previous work. Whereas in the past I used photography to stage narratives, I am now using it to objectively document. I have kept the height of my tripod consistent and have made all of my images from the same vantage point so that during the last three year a slight change in the appearance of each of the greenhouses would have been detected. It is my intention to map and to chart the changes within each of the sixty abandoned greenhouses since the beginning of 2004. Technically, I rely on a large format (4 by 5 inch) camera and color film to render as much details as I can and to print each image of the greenhouses at 45 by 60 inches—engaging the viewer in the dialogue of humankind’s current relationship with the anxious landscape. Beyond serving as metaphorical landscape, I hope that my images from The Garden will also serve as a document of a vanishing part of Ohio’s unique history.