If you don't like soggy old factories, go away. I'm serious. This is no place for you. NICHT.
This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper and the sounds of very large numbers of German pigeons trying to dive bomb one freezing photographer STUKA STYLE.
During a hectic fall moving here and, frankly, the crappiest, darkest, coldest, wettest weather I have ever had the misfortune to happen across (how the hell DO you Englishers do it? I almost understand you mole-people huddling over warm, steaming streams of poo in your British drains, just to get out of the weather), I haven't had much of a chance to poke around the copious amount of rusting crap that dots our landscape.
But crap there is, and lovely, lovely crap at that.
I spent the morning poking around a vast derelict military barracks, and didn't even take enough pictures of that putrid Cold War shithole to merit a "wall of shame" submission, so here's my take from the brief and badly lit afternoon and a fairly big-ish industrial motors and metal working plant that's sat, rotting, since 1983.
It is a soggy old factory par excellence, that one of my local associates was kind enough to point out as a sort of "starter kit". Strangely enough, while I can find a ton of pics of this joint online, nobody really seems to have taken the time to actually look around it. It's easy to see why, as lots of it is in a lamentable state, graffitied and torn up, but if you have the same fucked up aesthetic sense that I do, it's actually kind of neat.
There's not much to be said for its history - they made big, heavy, mechanical things for all the world, and the firm's corporate headquarters was next door until moving in 1996. Must have been weird, working at an office job for more than a decade, next to the former glory of heavy industry where now it all stands still.
Lately, it's been turned into a hipsteriffic art gallery, and I kind of hope that someone will take pity and fix up the enormous brick halls of the old factory out back as well, because for now, it's only me and the weeds and the copious amounts of pigeon scheisse.
Factory's closed, so enjoy, Englisher Schweinehunds.
(Hm shit, I just realized that I exported these way too small. Sorry about that.)
This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper and the sounds of very large numbers of German pigeons trying to dive bomb one freezing photographer STUKA STYLE.
During a hectic fall moving here and, frankly, the crappiest, darkest, coldest, wettest weather I have ever had the misfortune to happen across (how the hell DO you Englishers do it? I almost understand you mole-people huddling over warm, steaming streams of poo in your British drains, just to get out of the weather), I haven't had much of a chance to poke around the copious amount of rusting crap that dots our landscape.
But crap there is, and lovely, lovely crap at that.
I spent the morning poking around a vast derelict military barracks, and didn't even take enough pictures of that putrid Cold War shithole to merit a "wall of shame" submission, so here's my take from the brief and badly lit afternoon and a fairly big-ish industrial motors and metal working plant that's sat, rotting, since 1983.
It is a soggy old factory par excellence, that one of my local associates was kind enough to point out as a sort of "starter kit". Strangely enough, while I can find a ton of pics of this joint online, nobody really seems to have taken the time to actually look around it. It's easy to see why, as lots of it is in a lamentable state, graffitied and torn up, but if you have the same fucked up aesthetic sense that I do, it's actually kind of neat.
There's not much to be said for its history - they made big, heavy, mechanical things for all the world, and the firm's corporate headquarters was next door until moving in 1996. Must have been weird, working at an office job for more than a decade, next to the former glory of heavy industry where now it all stands still.
Lately, it's been turned into a hipsteriffic art gallery, and I kind of hope that someone will take pity and fix up the enormous brick halls of the old factory out back as well, because for now, it's only me and the weeds and the copious amounts of pigeon scheisse.
Factory's closed, so enjoy, Englisher Schweinehunds.
(Hm shit, I just realized that I exported these way too small. Sorry about that.)
More, as always, at kosmograd dot net.
