Archive for the ‘Pennsylvania’ Category
assented without
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The western edges of the Greater Pittsburgh Metropolitan area are found in states outside of Pennsylvania. In the north, Youngstown is carved into Ohio. Youngstown is in a grim condition, I tell you. You can tell that the citizenry used to experience better times there, but that those times were a very, very long time and multiple generations ago. I didn’t take a single photo in Youngstown since, also as mentioned, I was driving the car. Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself decided to cut our explorations short in Youngstown, and proceeded southwards through Ohio.
Along the way, at a bathroomivation stop, I cracked out the shot above. It depicts a coal fired power plant in Brilliant, Ohio – shooting toxic shit into the sky. It’s called the “Cardinal Power Plant,” and it produces 1.8 gigawatts of electricity. The owners are midstream, in terms of installing equipment to bring themselves in line with EPA standards for emissions, which is an investment that no longer makes any sense since an activist group of judges on the Supreme Court have yanked the rug out from under such regulation. Nothing is better for business than having politics swing like a pendulum every few years, ain’t it?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The southwestern section of the Pittsburgh area we were exploring, and where these shots were gathered, is found in West Virginia’s Wheeling. Wheeling is about an hour’s drive from downtown Pittsburgh and about two hours from Youngstown, and we arrived there in the very late afternoon – probably a little bit after 5. Let me tell you something about the sun in this section of the country, lords and ladies… I now fully understand the Roman’s worship of Sol Invictus, or the conquering sun. Holy smokes, it was strong.
The good news is that the car was parked, and that there are a couple of pretty interesting things in Wheeling to point a lens at.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Boy oh boy, do I love learning new things.
Predicate: The National Road (aka the Cumberland Road) was the first highway built by the United States. 620 miles long, it starts at the Potomac River in Maryland’s Cumberland section, and ends at Vandalia in Illinois (about 60 miles northeast of St. Louis). The National Road was built between 1811 and 1837, and construction stopped when Congress ran out of money to fund it. The National Road is largely carried by Route 40 in modernity, and it touches or travels through Maryland, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois.
The border of Ohio and West Virginia in Wheeling is defined by the Ohio River, which provided an impediment to traffic on the National Road until 1849.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Wheeling Suspension Bridge was thereby erected in 1849 to carry the National Road, and although it’s been improved or reconstructed several times since, this crossing of the Ohio River is the oldest suspension bridge in the country. For a few years, it was the largest suspension bridge that America could boast about as well.
It’s currently closed to vehicular traffic, due to somebody trying to drive an overweight road bus over it a few years ago, and there was a construction project underway at the time I was there to gussy and shore up the roadway. Saying that, the pedestrian and bike paths on it were open. Apparently, the project to rebuild the thing is where Senator Manchin decided to spend his “Biden Bucks” after voting against the infrastructure bill a couple of years ago.
Pork is pork, even in a red state, huh?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
West Virginia is one of our formerly “United” States which I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting, so these photos mark a first for me personally. Wheeling is ancient, by American standards. It was quite an industrial power in the First Civil War era, situated neatly nearby several other large industrial cities in the region like Pittsburgh and Youngstown and Cleveland. Wheeling was called “Nail City” for a while, and there was a thriving series of mills which produced iron products like stoves, boiler plates, and – as the nickname would imply – nails. They were also quite a power in the Tobacco business. In 1899, Wheeling saw the emergence of the National Tube Company, which manufactured iron pipes for plumbing usage. Believe it or not, Wheeling used to be a hotbed of socialist labor movement activity.
Wheeling began to decline as a manufacturing town after the Great Depression. Its downtown area, where we were, hosts a series of delightful late 19th century buildings, many of which are unfortunately crumbling. We found a great Tacqueria in Wheeling, and got to interact with several of the locals. While I was outside shooting a photo, Our Lady of the Pentacle got to meet the Mayor of Wheeling at the Tacqueria, who was coincidentally picking up a dinner order.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Mid span on the Wheeling Suspension Bridge over the Ohio River, the 1955 vintage Fort Henry Bridge is observed. A “tied arch” bridge, it carries Interstate 70 over the Ohio River. Couldn’t help but crack out a couple of shots of the thing. I’m planning on spending some time in Wheeling in the future, I tell you.
More tomorrow from the great rusty unknown, at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“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.
stifling age
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Pittsburgh’s Brookline neighborhood is where a rented, via AirBNB, set of rooms acted as a regional HQ for a late June trip to the area. I’ve mentioned the topography of Pittsburgh before as being extremely hilly, and the photo above was captured in pursuit of illustrating that particular point.
Photography wasn’t the primary goal of this outing, and I spent most of my waking hours behind the steering wheel of a rented car, tooling around the region.
Region, you ask?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Day one saw me drive about 50 or so miles north of Pittsburgh to a town called Butler, for luncheon with a friend who’s in the real estate business in the area. Our conversation revolved around property tax and the common business practices that typify the rental market in the area. He recommended that we take a look at a nearby town called Kittanning. We ate burgers at a roadside “local.”
In 1727, this community was a Lenape village, which is where the name Kittanning originates from. The Europeans arrived in the area, and during the French and Indian War period – in 1757 – the community was demolished by a gunpowder explosion at a local armory which was heard in Pittsburgh – 44 miles to the south west. Kittanning was incorporated as a “Borough” in the post revolutionary period in 1803. It sits on the eastern bank of the Allegheny River, and pictured above is their 1932 vintage Kittanning Citizens Bridge. Nice little down on its luck sort of town, which hosts a lot of churches along the waterfront, for some reason.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I had been driving since early in the day, and the banks of the Allegheny hereabout offered me a short opportunity to set up the camera and grab a couple of shots. There was a nearby dam which I was desperate to get next to, but there’ll be plenty of time for that sort of thing in the future. This particular trip revolved around getting to know the outlying sections of the “Greater Pittsburgh Metropolitan Area.”
Basically, if it was a named place that’s found on the weather map presented by the local CBS TV affiliate, we were there on this trip. I broke the journey up into the cardinal directions, and this particular day involved north and east. We visited Butler at the North, and Latrobe to the East, and a whole bunch of other places in between. “Reconnaissance” is what the Frenchers would call the effort.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On our way back into the City of Pittsburgh from Latrobe and a bunch of other communities where Trump held his rallies, I had a pilgrimage to make. One of the suburbs of Pittsburgh is called Monroeville, and they have several shopping malls which can satisfy all the banal desires of those happy to be called “consumers.” There’s one location, however, which I had to visit.
When there’s no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth… after all…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One of the best horror movies EVER made is 1978’s “Dawn of the Dead,” wherein a group of survivors sit out a Zombie outbreak in a shopping mall. Director George Romero didn’t shy away from critiquing the consumerist culture of the Pittsburgh he lived in, and his movie was filmed at the Monroeville Mall. It’s been profoundly remodeled several times since the movie was filmed here, as you’d imagine.
How could I not? This is part of why I always describe Our Lady of the Pentacle as “long suffering.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
We visited several of the towns and villages which comprise Pittsburgh’s greater metropolitan area, trying to get a feel for the various “zones” and their charms or vices. After a hearty meal at a roadhouse in the quite lovely Bethel Park section, we headed back to Brookline and absolutely annihilated a six pack of ice cold Yuengling beers while sitting on the porch at the AirBNB.
That’s the porch view, from Brookline PA., above.
“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.
jump downward
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One arrived back at where my day had truly begun – Philadelphia’s 30th street Station, with a good 40-50 minutes to spare before my trip on Amtrak back to NYC was scheduled to occur.
I set myself up for a few long exposure shots while I was waiting, using the “Ultrapod” camera support system which is little bit less conspicuous than the tripod is.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The junkies of Philadelphia seem to gather here at night, which is something I observed the last time I was passing through. These are “professional junkies,” sly and scheming creatures of the street who see everyone – including their own – through a lens of exploitation. If they thought they could get away with killing you and then boiling the body down to sell off the elements you’re composed of, they would.
While marinating in a paranoid 360 degree hyper awareness of my surroundings, and tracking every living human within ten steps of my immediate location, I got busy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
You can say what you want, and be as free thinking and liberal as you desire to be, but where that shit all falls apart is on the street. If you don’t spend time on the streets alone at night, just shut up, you don’t understand what you’re talking about.
There were a lot of eyes watching me. Two or three different people approached, asking for change or whatever. They weren’t interested in coinage, rather they were sizing me up to see what they could get away with. Of course, these junkies are from Philadelphia. I, on the other hand, am from Brooklyn. For one such as myself, all I have to do is stare deeply into their eyes and repeat whatever they say to me back at them in a loud monotone, and they soon realize that there is easier prey which will be found elsewhere.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m not saying that I’m some sort of tough guy, incidentally. I’m not. However, the Brooklyn way is the Brooklyn way, and this is freaking Philadelphia – America’s consolation prize. The city you remember to mention after you’ve rolled through San Diego, Minneapolis, and Denver. Christ, I think Toronto is a tougher town than Phillie is.
Freaking junkies…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Finally, it was time to head down to the tracks, and Amtrak arrived only about five minutes late. I was tired, having woken up at 4:45 a.m. and spent the day marching about while operating the camera.
Other than the thunderstorms which had arrived in Philadelphia about 5:30 p.m. following me home, the trip was uneventful.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
We got to NYC more or less on time, and a quick breath of maskless air was gulped on 8th Avenue before I boarded a Queens bound E train. A quick transfer at Queens Plaza soon saw me scuttling about in Astoria.
Our Lady of the Pentacle had made a lasagna, and a hearty meal greeted me back at HQ. Next week – something different, at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“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.
dancing forms
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The return to 30th Street Station section of my March 7th trip to Philadelphia took the form of a “photowalk” rather than the sort of “composed” photos which I’d been capturing most of the day. What that means is that I had a vague idea of where my destination was, but no route. This carried me through several mixed use and residential neighborhoods along the way.
Looks a lot like Bushwick used to look like, I thought.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Disturbingly, observed evidence along my route suggested that I’m not the only resident of Queens to have visited Philadelphia recently.
Could the Queens Cobbler be operating here as well? Is this where the Cobbler disappeared to during the pandemic months? Can’t be…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The fires of gentrification, fueled by locally grown wood and spewing artisinal smoke, burn hotly in Philadelphia – I’m told. Real Estate, real estate. Notice the signage on this construction project promising “Luxury Living” alongside the elevated expressway.
What a view, huh?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Ok, this was when it started to get weird. It can’t be, can it?
Given that it was “rush hour” while I was heading to the presumptive west, I just kept on walking.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There’s lovely historic architecture everywhere you look in Philadelphia. Again, one of the weird things for me as a New Yorker was a paucity of street level shops. No bodegas to be found, but I did eventually find a 711 storefront, where I snagged a coffee and a bottle of Gatorade to boost my fading energy. All told, according to the phone, I had covered about ten miles over the course of the day. A tiny corner of a huge city.
Scuttling, forever scuttling, I continued on my way.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What the hell, Philadelphia?
The Queens Cobbler and I seem to haunt the same corridors.
“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.
cloudless peak
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The long heralded storm which had been forecast to hit Philadelphia in the late afternoon finally set up, and whereas a humble narrator had an umbrella attached to his pack – shelter was required. Right alongside the Benjamin Franklin Bridge is the Cherry Street Pier (Municipal Pier No. 9), which is a former maritime industrial doohickey that has been converted over to public open space usage. They have caged artists in residency there, and they imprison them on display in converted shipping containers, no doubt to keep their intellectual contagion from infecting the youth.
When researching the trip, I had spotted this facility, and knowing that thunderstorms were forecast, was ready to duck in there for some cover. It was neat, and my “just in case” plan was successful. Another bit of advice for the traveling photographer – always have a “rain plan” you can alter your course into.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Back to photographing the colossal Benjamin Franklin Bridge, for me, thereby. The roof is missing on the section of the pier I was on, but there was just enough up there to mostly vouchsafe the camera and lens from getting “spotted” by raindrops.
My ambitious shot list for the day in Philadelphia had already been heavily redacted, and most of what I had to drop wasn’t terribly exciting – touristy shots of the historic districts where, you know, the United States was imagined and drawn up. Liberty Bell, etc.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The one thing I regretted having to drop, due to weather and time, was walking up onto the Benjamin Franklin Bridge’s pedestrian path and blasting out a few photos from the prominence. As mentioned – Thunderstorms – and a humble narrator doesn’t mess with high wind and lightning if he has a choice.
Next time, I guess. The Port Authority’s website offers fairly explicit instructions for photographers who want to shoot from on high, and suggests introducing yourself to the security personnel at the entrance to the pedestrian path before heading up there.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Since I was sheltered from the worst of the rain on the pier, advantage was taken. That’s the Delaware River, with New Jersey’s Camden waterfront on the horizon. It seems that wherever New Jersey touches the major city of another state, there’s a pretty awful circumstance. Newark in the north, Camden in the south. Newark is comparatively a paradise as opposed to its southern counterpart, I’m told.
My time in Philadelphia was growing short, and it was nearly time to begin heading back towards the 30th street Station to catch an Amtrak train back to “home sweet hell.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Across the river, and I had to use a super zoom lens for this one, the Battleship New Jersey operates as a museum vessel. Couldn’t avoid taking this shot, despite the conditions.
A general reordering of the camera bag(s) occurred at this point. My current system involves carrying a backpack with foam inserts to protect the gear, and attached to its exterior are my tripod and an umbrella. I also carry a messenger style sling bag on my hip which is similarly outfitted with foam inserts. In general, I carry four lenses on these sorts of excursions. Two of them, the zoom lenses, are “daylight” oriented. The other two are prime lenses, and are “lowlight” specialists. There’s a whole lot of other crap in the bags – batteries, a loop of paracord, gaff tape, gum – all sorts of stuff I might need or want.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The lenses I’m using circumstantially and in the moment – zooms for daylight, for instance – are carried in the sling for easy access. When the circumstance changes, so does the carrying order. The zooms go into the backpack, and the low light primes come out. One is on the camera, the other in the sling bag. When you walk as much as I do, even a single pound of weight in the camera bag can slow you down incrementally, and by photographer standards – my kit is a wonder of efficiency.
Don’t forget, with the exception of an hour in the late afternoon when I had a meal, I had been in continuous motion since 7:30 a.m. The shot above was captured at 5:22 p.m. My return trip to NYC was scheduled to leave at 8:01 p.m. Given that I was in unfamiliar territory, and definitely wanted to arrive in advance of the train, my toes were pointed away from the river and back towards Center City.
Seriously, why don’t these cheesesteak eaters just call it freaking “downtown?”
“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 