Hyde Park, in Black and White and Grit

On this anniversary of the day France and Daguerre gave away the technology for the Daguerrotype, I have gone back into my undergrad years to my final project. I worked with a used Canon Rebel EOS from the one and only Central Camera, on Wabash under the (atmospheric) tracks. I  loved it; I love it now: I love film work rather passionately. At this point, however, I have neither access to, nor space to create my own, darkroom; I’m hopeful that I will eventually be able to save up for a digital SLR, but even should I splurge on monthly Photoshop fees (and let’s face it: I probably would), it simply won’t be the same. There is an impossible beauty, really, in knowing that one’s shots are so limited, and that one must think, carefully, before setting the aperture and the shutter speed. It is about so much more than angling in and pushing a button.

In some ways, this is probably an exercise in nostalgia: I grew up in Hyde Park, a few buildings away from Stagg Field, two city blocks away from the emergency rooms. It wasn’t a perfect place, by a long shot, but it was an amazing space to be a kid. In many ways, it’s also a love song to a vanishing neighborhood. My own neighborhood is gone now, torn down to make way for new science buildings: there are no greystones, no 1920s apartment buildings, no kids racing down the block to round up the crew and look in office windows. It feels, to me, like a spectral trip down a ghost-town’s lanes, and, hardest of all, precious few of the students prowling what used to be a neighborhood have any idea that it was ever something else.

So, these are film photographs, scanned; there are a few development errors. I pushed my camera as hard as I could here, going for a rough-edged look inspired by Robert Frank’s The Americansit being better to push aperture and shutter speed than to accidentally boil the film. (Someone did that to me once; it was kind of awful but I ended up loving the look.) But, enough with words: let the images speak for themselves, as I had originally intended.

Entering Obama’s neighborhood.
South Drexel: What they left behind.


Kent Chemical Laboratory
57th Street Friends Meeting Peace Pole


Booth School of Business
Inside, across, and through
International House flyer, basement, Ida Noyes Hall.
Women’s bathroom, Mandel Hall.
Bulletin board, Quadrangles.
Cloisters, Divinity School.
Rockefeller Memorial Chapel: Rose window, outside.
Rockefeller Chapel
Rockefeller Chapel
Rockefeller Chapel: Rose window and pipe organ.