Night in the Life of a Night Photographer

Volume 1: The one with the lawyer.

This essay originally appeared on our website, now remastered with bonus tracks.

“The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men/Gang aft agley”
(“The best-laid plans of mice and men / Go oft awry”)

~ Robert Burns

When the best part is the ‘awry’.

A friend of ours passed along some photos of a gorgeous but abandoned homestead somewhere in central Illinois. It’s true location: a complete mystery. And now we know why. As I mentioned in our last episode, “No Trespassing”, we creep around a gray area when it comes to this line of work.

This home certainly plunged us into the darker shades of gray.

But I’ll get to that later.

This friend of ours who lives in the region, generously took the time to drive around the general area to find it for us. (editor’s note to friend: You rock!) He shared the location, and we gratefully filed the gem away in our mental Rolodex for the next clear full moon night. With an 8-hour round trip, there simply would be no room for error. Months came, months went. A thick, winter cloud-blanket foiled our plans every time.

Is it still scenery if it’s not scenic?

A full moon arrives in the gray doldrums of early March. All weather apps confidently declare that—despite the lack of sun all day—clouds will clear in central Illinois at about 9pm. It feels a little risky, but we pack up the gear and head south with a smidge of light left in the day.

So, obviously, Chris and I travel a lot. For shoot locations, for art shows, sometimes just for nothing, but the thing is, we don’t live in California. The view outside our windows doesn’t typically look like this:

Or this.

And certainly not this.

In fact, if you’ve ever driven any of the half dozen interstates through the flat open farmland of central midwest, you know that it’s no picnic scenery-wise. I-39 is particularly mind-numbing. The most exciting part is when a blue service sign indicates you can finally pee at Exit 82. You might inquire: how is this in any way fun, and how do you not fall asleep at the wheel?

The scintillating diesel that fuels this partnership? Conversation. To be fair, it’s mostly me bringing up odd observations—while Chris does his best to follow my random threads—which always begin with a warning of sorts: “Isn’t it weird that…” to which Chris (knowing me for nearly 15 years now) always responds, “Oh no.”

On this particular journey through Illinois, we pass a prison, which—after a quick web search—sparks a rousing discussion about the cost per incarcerated individual and the travesties of the for-profit prison industry:

If a private prison can “mark up” the cost of caring for an incarcerated individual by $50 per day, that means their prison can theoretically earn $50,000 per day on a prison that houses 1,000 inmates. If they can land another contract with the government to build a prison in the neighboring state, they could start earning an additional $50,000 per day by maxing out that prison. By going public, they can see a sudden influx of money that would allow them to build that second prison.¹

We switch gears and Chris enlightens me about the Goo Goo Dolls feud with Warner Brothers. I dig deep and walk Chris through how it’s strange that some childhood memories feel longer ago than others despite their proximal occurrence. We ponder when Genesis was in their Prog-iest phase. We happen upon a large-ish city in central Illinois that we had never heard of. We get far too excited about our dinner which consists of gas station coffee and salt & vinegar chips. And we discuss the Amish or Mennonite teens at said gas station who purchase Subway and soda…getting freaky for Rumspringa perhaps?

In context, when you’re staring down a four-hour road trip through absolute darkness, you have to ring your mind’s sponge and see what drips out.

Dramatized image of what it looks like on our night photography roadtrips.

To shoot or not to shoot?

We’re three hours into our venture south. 9pm approaches but our upward glance to the sky signals the bad news: these clouds are going nowhere, man. We hang our heads low when our not-so-trusty weather app confirms our fear: no clearance until maybe 3am. We’re no strangers to succumbing to a failed attempt at a shoot. Once, we tried a full moon adventure to an abandoned church in up-nort-der Wisconsin, also about four hours away from home. With but an hour left in the journey, once we noticed thick clouds barreling in from the west, we reluctantly turned back home.

Well, here we are again, already three hours into this attempt, the moon is bundled up tight in a sweater of weather. We had already paid our weight in Illinois tolls though, so we decide to press onward. At least we’d see the place…make sure it hadn’t been destroyed by the tornado that ravaged the vicinity a little over a week prior (yes in February!)

We announce our arrival to the entire tri-county area by way of the gravel churning beneath our tires. The old house materializes from the ether, stoic and substantial.

The House of the Rising Light Pollution

We park, approach, and respectfully take a tour. We marvel at the Italianate-style architecture, the attention to detail that certainly made this home a mansion in its time. We glance at the sky one last time—the moon just a fuzzy glob of ash nestled deep behind a wall of concrete. Oh well, let’s see what happens.

Chris takes some quick exposures for good measure and you can see that (for those photogs playing at home) even at a brief 13 seconds at 10,000 ISO, the clouds act like “nature’s soft box.” In the shot, the landscape looks like broad daylight. Yes this is what night would look like if we had DSLR cameras for eyeballs:

So, in order to strike a delicate balance between enough light to see the house with enough dark to show that it’s night, Chris pulls up on his usual F-stop and tells me I only have one hundred and ten seconds to run around inside with my colored flashlight.

Less than two minutes. So many windows, so little time.

Plus there is the issue of the banister-less staircase that scares me half to death, quite literally, because one false step would send me one story down to my demise. All for what, I assumed, would be a throwaway shot. But I put on my game face and we’re off.

After the first shot or two, and frustration that the house looked so flat without the moonlight, I get an idea. We reposition to get a more dynamic angle, and I run back into the house. I light up every room as quickly as possible, with most of my concentration focused on not falling over the flight of stairs. Then, on my way out of the house, I switch my flash from blue to white, and I bathe the whole front of the house and yard in light where the moon would’ve been.

“Time!” Chris shouts. I run to the camera, huffing away.

Yes, that’s it! Typically, when you help a structure along with a flashlight the result is a flat, unnatural look, which is why we rely so heavily on the full moon. But this time, because of the angle adjustment, the architecture, the internal light, and something about the napalm glow in the distance, everything falls together in photographic matrimony.

The clouds, the long drive, I-39, all worth it. It’s about the journey, not the destination.

We swap colors, shoot another half dozen attempts, and finally get it to where we want. Onto the rest of the house and some other ideas. We take a little more time to open our eyes and really look around.

Once was home.

The views are breathtaking even at this late hour. We’re overcome with a sort of stratospheric, expansive awe, yet also anxiously confined by the decay that might just take us down with it. And what about the family who lived in this home so long ago? Which neighbors did they gossip about? Did they have all-consuming political opinions? Was there any time for R&R or were farm and household tasks too time-consuming? Where did the children and the children of their children go? Why did this home perish into these sad, beautiful bones? If these walls could talk.

After about an hour and a half, we say goodnight to the Italian beauty and hop back in the van—back into the dark tube of Illinois tollway and the thrilling conversations that try to nudge our exhausted minds awake. Four hours to go, minus one hour of time lost to the archaic Daylight Saving system that causes a 24% increase in heart attacks.² Of course, the clouds do indeed evaporate as we drive north, leaving a beautiful smear of stars in their wake.

At 4am we arrive home to hungry cats and comforting pillows.

Oh yeah the lawyer.

Back during the height of the pandemic—when, admittedly, no one was at their best—we were contacted by someone who saw this artwork on Facebook, claimed it was a family farmhouse, wanted to discuss the history with us, and get a print of the work. We responded with upbeat curiosity. But the email exchange got ugly quick.

Accusations of stealing, telling us that they have copies of everything we’ve ever posted, and threats of getting their attorney involved. Oh and an expectation that three quarters of all the proceeds from any sales would be forwarded to them immediately. It was a full-blown shake down!

We responded with an apology, that we did not see a “No Trespassing” sign on the property (truth), that we removed the image from our website and social media, and that we would forward this email to our lawyer in regards to the “proceeds.” More livid threats hurled back at us, so we left it at that and contacted a lawyer who told us that it’s very difficult to sue for royalties for subject matter that is visible to the public (think about the loosey goosey interpretations of law around selling photographs of landmarks, buildings, and other property—obviously private, but in the public eye).

After this exchange nearly gave my typically-rule-abiding-self a heart attack, I went on a deep dive on copyright and property law. A few interesting nuggets:

• According to The Copyright Zone: “Buildings created on or after December 1, 1990 are protected by copyright…. The copyright in an architectural work does not include the right to prevent others from making and distributing photos of the constructed building, if the building is located in a public place or is visible from a public place.”

• Section 735 ILCS 5/15-1200.5 “‘Abandoned residential property’ means residential real estate that:

  (a) either:

  (1) is not occupied by any mortgagor or lawful occupant as a principal residence; or

  (2) contains an incomplete structure if the real estate is zoned for residential development, where the structure is empty or otherwise uninhabited and is in need of maintenance, repair, or securing…”

• The Illinois 310 ILCS 50 Abandoned Housing Rehabilitation Act states that “‘Nuisance’” means any property which because of its physical condition or use is a public nuisance, or any property which constitutes a blight on the surrounding area, or any property which is not fit for human habitation under the applicable fire, building and housing codes.”

• According to 735 ILCS 5/15-1108: “maintaining and securing abandoned properties stabilizes property values and the tax base, decreases crime, reduces the risk of foreclosure for nearby properties, thus reducing costs for local governments and making a substantial contribution to the operation and maintenance of the courts of this State by reducing the volume of matters which burden the court system in this State.”

In other words, if you “own” abandoned property in Illinois, you yourself run into some legal gray areas. If someone has a problem with it, you might be forced to demolish the property if you don’t have the means to rehabilitate.

Three years later, where do we stand?

Recently, we put this artwork back up on our portfolio, especially after we noted this farm house is definitely all over the internet. And to those who feel like we are disrespecting private property, I ask you to consider this:

Why is it disrespectful to explore a place that feels magical and unique, and to give it new life through an artistic lens so other people can appreciate beauty in the decay?

Why is it not, by comparison, disrespectful to let your own property rot away into a pile of wood, paint, and plaster, some of which might, say, leach into the water table and poison the wildlife in the area?

Thoughts?

Before you go, don’t forget to give our heart a squeeze. And maybe exit through the gift shop. But why stop reading now?! We’ve got another adventure for you, locked and loaded. And the cops were there this time…

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Credits:

Thanks again to our location-seeking friend for your dedicated search way back then! (Who shall NOW remain nameless to protect the innocent!)

Check out the original photographer who inspired this trek! Forgottonia Photography has lots more photographs of this house and other gems throughout Illinois.

And tunes. The road needs a soundtrack.

Music always accompanies our travels into Nowheresville. So, why shouldn’t we create playlists based on our journeys? Our very first one, “Night in the Life,” is not to be missed! Hand-selected tracks that weave ever-so-delicately throughout our venture south of the [Wisconsin] border.

Just press play.

1. “The Business Model of Private Prisons” by Sean Bryant, Investopedia, Updated March 24, 2022

2. Yes! A 24% increase! “Daylight Savings Time & Your Heart” by General Health & Wellness Heart & Vascular, Franciscan Health, March 06, 2023