4802 - Andrew Moore

The Art of Cityscape Photography

My name is Andrew Moore and I

have been a working photographer
based in New York for more than
forty years. I’d like to begin by tell-
ing you a bit about my background
and path of my career.

Childhood
Both my parents were involved in
creative pursuits. My mother edited
books on subjects ranging from the
history of the Dracula legend to Pe-
ter Beard’s book on African croc-
odiles called Eyelids of Mourning
which perhaps accounts for my life
long obsession with those reptiles.
My father’s college textbook on drawing a three-point perspective

high school for deaf children. At My dad was also a serious amateur
that moment the project was little photographer and when I was 12
than an empty concrete slab build- years old he helped my brother
ing and as we walked around he Henry and I build a small dark-
would say: “This is going to be the room in our attic. I loved every-
gymnasium, here is a row of class- thing about the orange-yellow
rooms, and this will be the cafe- darkness of that special place, it
teria.” I had to imagine how the felt both magical and very private
spaces would be used even when at the same time. It wasn’t until
they were devoid of any physical later when I learned that Diane Ar-
evidence. This exercise in mental bus had said that “photography is a
“blue printing” later came into secret about a secret”. Henry and I
play when I began to photograph shot about 50 rolls of film between
architectural forms. One of the first 1971-73. Looking back at those
things I consider when looking at images now, the pictures seem to
a building is how active the space encapsulate the carefree times of
The Mingled Destinies of Crocodiles and Men
within and without is, and how I our teenage years. And that’s how
My father was an architect and can shape and mold that space into I got my start, some fifty years ago,
frequently we made family visits a picture. This idea of photograph- as a photographer.
on Sunday afternoons to his on- ing architectural space in order to
going projects. One afternoon we bring forth its subjective quality
went to the construction site of a will be one of the major themes of
this course.
Cos Cob, Connecticut 1972
Pam Greeves and chain ladder, Old Greenwich 1971

Another inspiration from my child-

hood was an old painting with an
heavy gilt frame which hung in the
corner of my parents living room.
Although very dark from age, one
could make out two small figures
in a wilderness setting, a scene
derived from the novel “The Last
of the Mohicans”. I used to stare
at this painting for hours and often
wondered about the small signa-
ture which read “A. Hart 1866”.

Sacramento Railroad Trestle by Alfred Hart

It wasn’t until decades later that I California. Sometimes I feel that I

learned that it was painted by my am following his career trajectory,
ancestor Alfred Hart and that he, but in reverse, in that I began as a
like many other painters in the 19th photographer but am moving my
century, later in his career became way back to images that people
Alfred Hart Painter and Photographer
a photographer.In fact, he became often mistake for paintings…
quite well-known for his stereo-
scopic views of the construction
of the transcontinental railroad
Studies
I arrived at Princeton University in have ever heard on a single photo- Meanwhile, Emmet Gowin, who
1975, thinking that I might study graph. And at that time, in 1977, had studied with Harry Callahan
architecture, but as I didn't love the I was familiar with almost every as a graduate student at RISD, was
pastiche quality of Postmodernism, photography book in the library's deeply involved with the work and
which was in its heyday, I ended collection, something that I think writings of Frederick Sommer.
up studying photography, which would be nearly impossible today.
turned out to be an extremely lucky
decision. At that time there were
two gifted teachers who had re-
cently joined the university—Peter
Bunnell, who had been appointed
as the McAlpin Professor of the
history of photography (the coun-
try’s first endowed professorship
in that field), and the esteemed
photographer Emmet Gowin, who
at the time was just completing his
first monograph. Although these
two professors had highly dissim-
ilar approaches to teaching the
medium, the combined spectrum of
their varied interests created a pho-
tography program that had a lasting
influence on several generations of
students.
From Prof. Bunnell I received a Nancy Wells, Danville Virginia, 1969, Emmet Gowin
thorough background in the histo-

The Flatiron, 1904, printed 1909, Edward J.

Steichen

ry of photography. His lecture on

Edward Steichen picture of “The
Flatiron-Evening” still stands in my Bedroom Window, Greenwich, Conneticut, 1978, silver gelatin contact print from 8x10 negative, Andrew
Moore
mind as the greatest examination I
I will discuss more about Som-
mer’s work later in this course, but
through Gowin’s teaching I was
able to understand the deep formal
logic of constructing images of
Sommer as well as elegant formal-
ism of Callahan.
During my studies I also had the
benefit of working with a variety of
visiting artists, including Jim Dow,
Stephen Shore, and Linda Connor
and Joel Meyerowitz. (Meyerowitz,
who was a visiting professor during
my junior year, had just begun his
first summer of work on the Cape
Light series.) I’d already been
working with a large format cam-
era, although working in black and
white; when I saw what a 8”x10”
color contact print looked like, the
quality and intensity of the colors, I Red Wash Cloth, Greenwich, CT, 1978, Andrew Moore

realized that my aspiration to make

color images could be realized, and First Projects: New Orleans
what luck I had to be studying just
at the moment (in the mid-1970s) After graduation I decided not to I decided to move to New Orleans,
when the color process became apply to graduate school, as I felt it a city I had known since my youth
accessible and practical for photog- was important to take what I knew through the work of Clarence John
raphers. of photography and test myself out Laughlin, but had only experienced
in the world. first hand the year before while
traveling around the South and
working on my senior thesis. Start-
ing with picture clues from my pre-
vious stay, and with the encourage-
ment of a local arts administrator, I
embarked on my first independent
photography project: a series of in-
teriors made in the city’s commer-
cial district. Many of my subjects,
such as a coffin workshop, a broom
factory, and a raw furrier, were
small businesses that still employed
artisans using dated machinery and
handicraft skills.

Coffin Factory, New Orleans, Louisiana, 1980, Andrew Moore

Broom Factory, New Orleans, Louisiana, 1980, Andrew Moore

Lower Manhattan

As enticing as the ambiance of

New Orleans was, there was not a
great deal of support for a young
artist, especially in photography,
so by 1981 I had returned to New
York, this time to the South Street
Seaport area of lower Manhattan.
At that moment, the demolition for
the present marketplace and shop-
ping pier was just getting under-
way. As it has always been part of
my working method to focus on
a particular place and then return
again and again to make pictures,
this construction project was an
ideal opportunity for me to show
Fulton and Front Streets, South Street Seaport, New York City, 1982, Andrew Moore
the transformation of a neighbor-
hood over an extended period of
time. For the next three years I
made pictures of all aspects of the
deconstruction and transformation
of the wholesale fish market and
the surrounding neighborhood.

Peck Slip, South Street Seaport, New York City, 1982, Andrew Moore

Experimental Work

Although my pictures from New

Orleans and Lower Manhattan
had been well received, I felt
constrained by traditional contact
printing and my overall approach to
documentary photography. While
teaching in Buffalo in the summer
1985, I met a group of artists who
worked with “appropriated” imag-
ery, and I sensed in that movement
a kind of liberation from photog-
raphy’s accepted genres. Eager to
shift my imagery out of the docu-
mentary context, and inspired by
a darkroom “accident,” I reorga-
nized the 8x10s of my archive into
discrete categories irrespective of
location, and then, working on a
light box, layered them together Native Doric, New York City, 1986, Andrew Moore

into a single printable negative. As xerography into the final imagery. prints were the basis of my first
this was done before the advent of Overall, this method of recombi- solo show in New York City in
Photoshop and digitalization, I used nation allowed me to produce the 1986, and several of these prints
mechanical and chemical process- kind of “convulsive beauty” that I were later acquired by the George
es to incorporate many types of had found wanting in my straight Eastman House.
drawing, painting, graphics, and pictures. The resulting montage
Sanctuary 1988

It takes a long time to develop a Times Square

style, a feel, that one can call one’s
own. For young artists I think a Although I didn’t fully appreciate it negatives, the way I perceived
great deal of experimentation is not until years later, it was my work in architecture had changed, and I was
only important but also necessary. Times Square that guided me into now more focused on telling a story
a new trajectory of picture making. rather than merely documenting
In 1995 I obtained permission from the structure. Inside those theaters,
The New 42nd St. Inc. to photo- amid the torn seats and faded fire
graph all the theaters that stretched curtains, I made “straight” pictures,
between 7th and 8th Avenues, and but composed them with the idea of
which would soon be razed or revealing as many of those narra-
entirely refurbished. After all my tive layers as possible. This was
years of layering and montaging a breakthrough moment for me,
Fire Curtain, Liberty Theater, Times Square, 1996, Andrew Moore Red Chairs, Selwyn Theater, Times Square, 1995, Andrew Moore

when I realized I could synthesize

my interests in both fine art and
documentary approaches to pic-
ture-making.  

Mid Career: Cuba

After the success of the Theaters of

42nd Street project I began look-
ing for other places where I might
photograph old theaters and with
the encouragement of some artist
friends I decided to visit Havana
in 1998. While it was apparent that
the city had many magnificently de-
crepit theaters, the larger fact was
that the city as a whole possessed
a unique architectural richness that
stretched from the colonial times
through the modernist style, al- Teatro Campoamor, Havana, 1999, Andrew Moore
though this legacy was particularly
threadbare at that moment in the were the first time, after shooting one photograph: color harmony,
last days of the “Período especial.” with the 8x10 camera for many natural light, deep and shallow
Looking back on these images to- years prior, in which I was able to space, narrative detail, cultural
day, I feel that my pictures of Cuba gather together all my interests in history and the human figure.
La Guarida, Havana, 1998, Andrew Moore
Detroit

Although I had traveled to Detroit

to work on the Ray Johnson mov-
ie, it was not until 2008—when
I joined a small group of urban
explorers who had “accessed” hun-
dreds of abandoned schools, facto-
ries, churches, office buildings, and
theaters—that I started to grasp the
epic scale of the city’s dissolution.
Over the next two years, I shot
more than one thousand large-for-
mat negatives, which not only
depicted some of the city’s most
historically important locales, but
also introduced the theme of na-
ture's exuberant return to the voids
left by man in this post-industrial
and surreal urban landscape. Rolling Hall, The Rouge Plant, 2008, Detroit

Although my work in Detroit was

very well received, I felt it incum-
bent to take on a completely differ-
ent subject matter, rather than try
to repeat formulas and strategies
that had worked so well previous-
ly. Which is how I ended up in the
high plains…
Dirt Meridian, which was the title
of my follow up project to Detroit,
refers to the land along the 100th
meridian of the United States, and
specifically for this work, the high
plains that lie west of that line in
the Nebraska panhandle and sur-
rounding states. The hundredth
meridian, traditionally known as
the dividing line between East
and West of North America, runs
through a remote and sparsely-pop-
ulated landscape with a long his-
tory of repeated drought and failed
dreams.
Over the course of the ten years I
spent making pictures on the High
Plains, I came to realize that what
most attracted me to working along
the 100th meridian was the land
Left: National Time, Detroit, 2009, Andrew Moore
The Yellow Porch, Sheridan County, NE, 2013, Andrew Moore

itself, the severe magnificence of

its dirt and emptiness. Unlike the
Native Americans—who mastered
it with their acumen, bravery and
speed—those who came to settle on
the land survived mostly by hard-
won perseverance. This book is in
part about the legacy of their ambi-
tion and failure on these arid high
plains, as well as the evolving story
of this region of the country. But
the hardness of the land also lies
in its vast and sublime emptiness.
Perhaps the greatest challenge in
making these photographs was how
to depict that emptiness but not
make vacant images. I tried to place
the subjects in this book in relief,
not only against the backdrop of
human events, but also in relation Cattle Cyclone, Bassett, NE, 2005, Andrew Moore
to the physical and transcendent
dimensions of Emptiness.
 I should point out that all of these projects took many years, because ultimately I practice
a kind of slow photography where I let the themes of my work evolve along the way.

Editorial Work
I’ve also shot a great deal of edito- short amount of time, these assign-
The projects I shared above take
rial assignments. Although this is ments have taken me to locations
a very long time to complete. I’ve
a very different approach then my all over the world. Here are a few
been very fortunate to be able to
usual practice of working slowly, in examples which I’d like to share
support myself through the sales
fact quite the opposite in terms of with you:
of my prints at the galleries that
the pressure to make a great image
represent me, but along the way
of an unfamiliar place in a very

Plymouth, Montserrat Island for The New York Times Magazine

“Arcosanti” for Port Magazine Revel Casino, Atlantic City for The New Yorker

Baku for “Cities of the Future”, National Geographic