Operation Ajuq Parngusuut
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Allow me to start this one by stating that before shooting this photo, I had no idea that an outfit called ‘The Pittsburgh Foundation’ existed.
Apparently, the organization is a fairly well heeled non profit. What drew me in was contemplation of exactly what the heck is going on with that building of theirs, architecturally speaking…
I stood there on the corner, running my eyes up and down the thing while trying to work it out. Some dude walked by, who then asked what I was staring at. I pointed, and He started staring at the weird building too.
Soon, there was a third, and then we were all confused… why does that… and where does this… and what purpose would… our trio soon dispersed into individual confusion.
According to Google’s AI:
MossArchitects is the architectural firm behind The Pittsburgh Foundation’s new headquarters located at 912 Fort Duquesne Blvd. The project, which was completed in early 2025, involved a 31,308-square-foot build-out across the top two floors of the building, featuring collaborative spaces, a rooftop patio, and modern office design.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One shouldn’t look upwards. It’s not where I belong.
Streets, alleys, sewer plants, junk yards… that’s where a creature like myself properly dwells.
Loathsome, antilaconic, truly annoying, and pedantic… that’s me in a nutshell. Filthy too, I need’s filth. Gotta have some soil, soot, or black grease on the ground. Everybody hates me, on sight, so it’s best to hide in the places where people aren’t. Getting stoned doesn’t necessarily involve inebriants for me, rather it’s people throwing rocks at me when I’m observed passing by. Dogs bark. Children cry. Crows circle.
The plan for my day was ‘a photowalk,’ not a ‘stand around with two random strangers and critique odd office architecture,’ so the scuttle was leaned back into. I’d need to navigate a path through Downtown Pittsburgh to get from one river to the next, so the process of kicking my feet around while leaning forward started, and soon – a pretty convincing simulacra of human locomotion was underway, just all herky jerky.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cutting through Pittsburgh’s convention center, where a cool looking semi truck caught my eye. The driver was setting up vehicle ramps to lead into the trailer, so this was likely a ‘car carrier’ setup.
11th street, as it were, is encapsulated and overshadowed by the convention center, from its intersection with Fort Duquesne Blvd. On the other side, the street bursts out into those few shafts of sunlight which might be found downtown.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This area is what I’d refer to as ‘the ritual center’ of Pittsburgh. NYC has multiples of these ‘centers,’ spread across the boroughs.
Want to have a parade, you’d do it somewhere nearby. Picklesburgh? Yup.
Pittsburgh’s City Hall, and all the corporate bigwigs, can be found in this Downtown ‘zone.’ The streets are narrow and messy, and often populated by groups of unwanted people doing undesirable things. I’m told that as recently as ten years ago, things were quite different downtown, but that’s likely sophistry. I look over the shoulder hereabouts NYC style, and keep my headphones dangling down rather than playing in my ears. You want to listen for the slap of a sneaker against the pavement, as an early alert that something is about to go down.
Saying all that, it’s really not all that dangerous here if you keep your wits about you and ‘radar’ turned up. It’s just worrying here, as there are big clots of drug enthusiasts seemingly embedded into this area.
Desperate people do desperate things.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This was one of the first days, after a month long interval of snow and arctic cold, that air temperatures had risen sufficiently for ice and snowpack melting to occur.
Everything was dripping and wet, and in certain spots it seemed to be raining, as the ice released from high flying masonry walls. The lack of building setbacks in Pittsburgh means that all that water dumps straight down onto the sidewalks. Given that single digit temperatures had ruled for a month, the second that the water hit the ground it froze again forming… you guessed it – Black ice, yo.
Pictured is a court building. I’m told that what appears to be a bell tower is actually a ventilation shaft, part of many accommodations which architects used to have to incorporate into large structures like this one in notoriously humid Pittsburgh prior to the era of air conditioning. Neat.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One found himself back in direct sunlight at the shoreline of the Monongahela River, and at the soul shaking threshold of the Smithfield Street Bridge. The plan for the rest of the day got pretty simple from this point. In short – horror, alienation, and an inconceivable sense of loneliness was what I was hoping for. Long story short: win.
I’d cross the river, look around and try to photograph some trains, and then hop back on the T to head back to HQ in Dormont.
More on all that tomorrow.
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Operation Liukastelu ja liukuminen
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The whole ‘snow and ice thing’ had really been ‘harshing my buzz’ during the month of February. Annoying. Why can’t it just be 65 degrees with no humidity and a stiff breeze for a spell?
Pittsburgh and its municipal neighbors did a piss poor job of handling the snow and ice, and it was EXTREMELY difficult to move about on foot during this interval due to plowed up ice walls encountered at cross walks.
My last few scuttles, since that long East Liberty one, have been quite truncated due to conditions. I personally observed people in wheelchairs having to negotiate through these slush lagoons and plowed ice walls.
Yeah, I helped out when I could, after asking if they needed assistance. You need to ask, don’t just lurch forward.
I was sticking to certain ‘urban core’ routes thereby, where – presumptively – at least some small effort might have gone into clearing the pedestrian space. Ambition wanted me to visit ‘here’ or ‘there,’ but as I worked out those paths in my mind, realization that certain areas were going to still be largely impassable guided my path to here and there.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m dying to get back up on both the West End Bridge and the McKees Rocks Bridge to shoot some rail action, but that path leads to a long stretch of sidewalk which doesn’t seem to have received any attention from plows or shovels at all. It also leads past several abandoned or empty properties which still sit in knee deep snow. I’m also ‘hep’ to revisit Skunk Hollow, but again…
To answer the graffiti’d query pictured above: yes, I do.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the Allegheny River, and the Rachel Carson Bridge. One of the ‘Three Sisters,’ it carries Ninth Street twixt the golden triangle of ‘Downtown’ and the slightly less golden ‘North Shore.’
The river was still completely frozen over. Allegheny flows south from more or less the border of Canada and NYS, and the ice slithers down from the frozen north. The Monongahela River, alternately, flows sort of northwesterly out of West Virginia, and it’s far less common for those warmer waters to freeze or plate over.
They both did during this cold snap, but that’s a different post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I underexposed this shot by a stop or two to try and capture some of the texture of that ice, which was glowing white in the sun otherwise.
The amount of light bouncing around was actually sort of a problem for me at this interval. My sunglasses, which are prescription spectacles with corrective lenses, are outfitted with the sort of reactive coating that darkens in response to sunlight. They had gone full black, like welders goggles, due to all the UV light bouncing around.
The reflection of my eyes floating against that blackness began to annoy me, and get in the way. It became quite difficult to operate the camera’s controls during this interval, I’d mention. Had to overly rely on the exposure meter. No bueno. I considered plucking the offending organs out, as they offended me, but that’s short term thinking.
I need to be able to see what I’m doing, as photography is a visual medium.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Graffiti is something which I mostly ignore. Usually, it’s crap. Some kid tagging a graphic handle on something with nothing else to say.
Stating that, I often encounter poetic or philosophical meanderings which have been scrawled along the public way, here in Pittsburgh. Some of them are quite intriguing. Street literature?
The next problem I needed to solve for myself involved getting through the everdark streets of Downtown Pittsburgh as quickly as possible. I had little interest in architecture this time around, although there were a couple of things which ended up catching my eye along the way.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Rachel Carson Ninth Street Bridge deposited me about a block away from the David L. Lawrence convention center on Fort Duquesne Blvd.
Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle.
Back next week with more from the Pittsburgh ‘frozezone’ at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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Operation Huitztlampa huitz ehecatl
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While heading through Allegheny Commons Park, which as it turns out is the oldest public park in Pittsburgh, a bit of statuary caught my eye. This park was designed in the Victorian era, and clearly inspired by British and French parks of that same time. At one of the concurrence points for the various walking paths, statuary enjoys a prominent position.
Dedicated to the First Civil War era soldiers of the Hampton Battery, which was an artillery unit that saw action in many of the battles of that conflict, including Antietam.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s set on sort of an elevated plinth, and my understanding is that what’s it’s standing in front of, currently an under renovation playground for kids, used to be a fountain. Another one of the odd cultural differences between NYC and this part of the country revolves around military service. Pennsylvania, it seems, has one of the highest percentiles of citizens who enlisted in the military and then retired back home.
Back in NYC, you’d meet veterans of the various wars, but it was just like you’d meet anyone else at a bar. You’d buy the guy a beer, say ‘thank you for your service,’ and move on to some other topic like how much De Blasio sucked. Most of the military people I’ve ever met in such circumstance ‘don’t want to talk about it.’
That is, until they got drunk…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Back in my the college years during the late 1980’s, the watering hole that me and my mates favored was an Irish joint on 24th and Third. There was a real cast of characters who hung out there, including a guy named Tito who was the Padrino for a gang of low level criminals that menaced the east 20’s, and ensured that anyone who wanted Cocaine could achieve their goals. Tito once told me his gang’s name was ‘The Puerto Ricans,’ and I got to meet the boss. He was Tito’s dad and his street name was simply ‘Poppie.’ Good times.
There were also a bunch of Viet Nam vets at that bar, who had distinguished themselves militarily overseas and were rewarded with cushy ‘they can’t fire me’ postal jobs at that big post office on 23rd between Third and Lex’s loading docks, which were located on 24th by the bar. These guys used to regularly sneak out of work, and have drinks with the art students at that irish bar. A Medal of Honor and or a Purple Heart bought you a lot of leeway and discretion from the USPS, back in those days.
‘Don’t ask me about ‘Nam,’ was the usual refrain if it came up, from one of them in particular. Two drinks later, and the ‘let me tell you about ‘Nam’ stories would begin. We’d beg him not to ‘talk about ‘Nam,’ as those stories usually cleared the table. It’s sterner stuff than could be handled by we younger generations whose chief desire was to avoid life’s hard edges. Those stories would probably send a member of Gen Z to a mental hospital for a long recovery. Long stories short, napalm sticks to kids.
In Pittsburgh, Veterans get reserved parking spots at shopping malls, and also enjoy discounts at the local chains of breakfast restaurants like Denny’s or ‘Eat and Park.’ Apparently, this sentiment towards America’s retired citizen soldiers ripples through the political and social firmament historically, as well as contemporaneously. As I’ve said a few times: ‘They really wear it on their sleeves in Pittsburgh.’ Not a bad thing, I’d add, just an observation.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Me? The path in front of me would ultimately lead back towards home via the T light rail system.
As described previously, the climate was horrific and cold, and the pavement was fairly well glazed by weeks old accumulations of ice and snow and the freshly iced surfaces anointed by melt water. Had to be careful with every footfall.
South, more or less South – that was the mantra.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Luckily for me, some sort of construction project was underway, along the concretized berm which the Norfolk Southern rail tracks ride atop, and there was a good amount of interesting construction activity underway.
The plan from this point out was to continue the walk in a southerly direction. I’d cross two of Pittsburgh’s three rivers along the way, and then eventually catch a T Light Rail ride back to HQ in Dormont.
Spoilers.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The decision to ‘perma-shadow’ this stretch of roadway and its sidewalks during the urban renewal era, and during the subsequent buildouts of the high speed road interchanges above and around the stadiums… let’s just say that’s something I would totally disagree with. As I used to decry the situation back in LIC – someone has stolen and privatized the sky.
One shook and twisted the gray tinged sensory and gustation stalk, which juts out from my T-Shirt’s neck hole, and continued walking.
If you’re curious, the title of this post is ‘South by Southwest’ in the native Mexica/Aztec language of Nahuatl.
Back tomorrow.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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Operation Takhafeef Istadilal
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Yup, that was me, still standing there under Pittsburgh’s Merchant Street Bridge, while watching a train roll past. That’s how I spend my time these days.
The bridge itself is the gray steel trestle section, whereas the yellow bar is there to keep people from wedging their trucks under it.
As described yesterday, this was a short walk perpetrated on the first real ‘melt day’ experienced after weeks of single digit temperatures. The goal was to catch a bit of exercise, this was a ‘photowalk’ not a ‘photostand.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The steel plating above the roadway does little to absorb the sound of the freight train transiting above, one should mention. In fact, the entire roof system under there acts in the manner of a drum kit’s cymbals as it vibrates loudly underneath the passing freight train.
Very exciting, really.
One leaned into it and pushed forward.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Couldn’t help but get a few shots of the rest of that train passing by, from the other side of Merchant Street Bridge, me. Serendipity, yo.
The locomotive engines in the middle of the train are doing duty as ‘DPU’s’ or Diesel Power Units. I’m told that their ‘works’ are governed from the operators cabin at the head of this steel snake.
I had walked a similarly icy route just a week earlier, so the path this day would involve hanging a right at an unfamiliar corner.
‘Let’s go see what’s over there…’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One has become somewhat familiar with this particular corridor, due to regular visits, but less so with the section of the entirety of the park complex and historic district it’s found within. This ‘zone’ used to be part of, and the ‘ritual center’ of, a separate municipality called ‘Allegheny City’ which Pittsburgh annexed back in 1907.
A ruinous amount of ‘urban renewal’ has occurred nearby, especially so with a 1950’s spawned project called ‘Allegheny Center.’
LeCorbusier strikes again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Surviving structures around the Allegheny Commons Park, which thankfully survived the ‘improvements,’ include great examples of the sort of residential multi unit buildings styles which were constructed before the age of air conditioning or the automobile here in Pittsburgh. Notice those terraces!
The area surrounding this spot, safety wise, is what the old Sicilians back in Brooklyn’s Canarsie would have described as ‘mesa mesa.’ I don’t know if that’s exactly how you spell it, but that’s what they’d say while gesturing with a flat hand that gets rotated from side to side at the wrist.
A bit ‘crimey,’ nothing crazy, but there’s a population of truly annoying junkies who hang around a nearby 711 whom you’d like to not have to interact with. I don’t feel threatened here, but then again I’m calloused.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Allegheny Elks #339 building caught my eye, right there.
Interesting stories about the group’s history and mission, and the building they’ve inhabited for more than a century, can be found at their website.
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Operation Run, gun, and Hey Now
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It had been about three weeks since a ‘big’ winter storm had blanketed Pittsburgh in about a foot and half of snow, and that weather event also accomplished the arrival of arctic air, here in the Paris of Appalachia. Said atmospheric incursion installed frigid conditions which persisted for the better part of a month.
The shots in today’s post (and in several subsequent ones) were gathered during a short scuttle on February the 10th of 2026. As you might discern, my efforts at maintaining ‘lead time,’ as far as when these posts publish in relationship to when the photos were actually shot is currently well ahead of schedule and working out. One less thing to worry about, for me.
Of course, it’s likely that early spring has started in the northeast, as you’re reading this, and here I am reminding you of a hard winter. I’ve always offered others a glimmer of darkness, just as the sun begins to rise. I’m like a dark cloud on a sunny day, or an irregularly shaped mole on someone’s ass which suddenly starts to bleed. This is part of why everyone hates me. Pariah.
This was kind of a short walk, and ‘the path’ was governed by endemic ice and snow conditions, and the frosty horror was adhering to sidewalks and roadways. My ‘way’ was decided for me, in many cases, by these frozen accretions and the paths around them.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After debarking the T Light Rail service, which had carried my pre-corpse into town from Dormont, one set upon a northwards path.
Whereas the air temperature on this particular day was measured as being in the high 30’s, the ground temperature was still sub zero after long intervals of single digit and below zero temperatures. Any melt water coming off the snow pack instantly froze onto any concrete or masonry it touched, forming sheens of fresh and super slippery ice.
‘It was slippy aht,’ as the local Yinzers might offer, in the regional dialect.
I didn’t really have a set goal for the day, as you really can’t plan around finding out a four to five foot tall wall of plowed snow is blocking your path, in random places. One followed his nose, thereby.
It was really all about movement, and staying in it.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The first area I scuttled through was right next to what I’ve learned to be the former ‘Clark Bar’ candy factory, of the D.L. Clark outfit. There’s a rail bridge back here, one which I’ve had my eye on for a bit, so I figured…
Hey Now?
Well… the sidewalks were clear at least…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Hey now indeed!
Luckily for me, Norfolk Southern’s #4430 showed up just as I arrived. It’s a rebuilt GE AC44C6M model locomotive, which I’m told was originally christened as NS #9212 when it first rolled out of the RR factory in 1998.
It was hauling some sort of black mineral. Likely coal or coke, but unless you know something for sure… don’t guess.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This span (the Merchant Street Bridge) connects to a rail trench which then flows northwards through Allegheny Commons Park, a spot which I’ve visited fairly regularly. These tracks then follow the Allegheny River for a spell. There’s a branch off spur which allows cross river rail connection over the Allegheny at the Fort Wayne Rail Bridge, and then also at the 33rd st. bridge. There’s other rail trestles upriver, and downriver, obviously, but I haven’t shot them all… quite yet.
Hey Now!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Yes, I’m completely aware that I’ve been moving through this area quite a bit in recent weeks.
Here’s why: I can get here pretty easily during inclement weather using mass transit, and given the presence of large institutions like the stadiums, parks, and hospitals found in this ‘zone,’ better odds of encountering pavement where the snow had been cleared exist. Theoretically, at least.
Saying that, Pittsburgh absolutely faceplanted on snow clearance during this season. I don’t think I need to mention the ‘orthopedic incident’ as being psychologically omnipresent while negotiating ice and snow.
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 