I remember the sunny spring day while walking out of a park as I worked on another photography project, I saw a foreclosure notice slapped on the front door of an apartment building. With camera in hand, I snapped a quick photograph of the front door. Not long after that initial photograph I noticed a home in my neighborhood with a sign in the front window which read : We Shall Never Forget, which was a reference to the events on 9/11. Stuck on the front door of this building was a much more menacing sign which announced in bold letters: BANK OWNED. I understood that for this particular family the date they were evicted from their home was another terrible and most likely more personal date they would never forget. The year was 2008 and seeing both buildings marked the beginning of this photographic exploration.
For a little over three years I photographed ways the Great Recession changed the landscape in our communities. I spent time trudging through abandoned, disheveled gardens. I studied chain linked fences covered by overgrown vines that wrapped around weed filled lots. I photographed unfinished mansions and modest single family homes with boarded windows. I also visited partially finished apartment buildings. Many of the city lots resembled forgotten ruins distinguished by single pillars or graffiti filled walls surrounded by overgrown grass.
Although these places were once imagined as living or working spaces, they were void of any human existence. Through the act of taking pictures I hoped to memorialize the lost dreams of so many and how their loss transformed the landscape.
