Parking ramps are an interesting phenomenon. The construction of these places is always a direct response to the population around it. As the economy grows so does the commuting workforce, potential customers of local businesses, and urban residents; all of whom need a place to house their vehicles. What I find most interesting is that for a good portion of the day these structures sit empty, quietly waiting for the start of the next workday when hoards of drivers seek a place to park. So what exactly happens to these places when we aren’t around? How do the structures change, if they even change at all? Is there some sort of inherent beauty in this utilitarian mass of steel and concrete?
Initially this series started as an attempt to investigate the questions previously listed. What I have come to discover is something completely different.
Standing elegantly steadfast these parking ramps, void of any human presence, have come to represent the fragility of modern society. When photographed at night these spaces float between necessity and abandonment; reminding us that all of what we have built could very easily be taken away leaving us with these quiet relics of a time that use to be, but no longer is. In a not-so-distant future these ramps stand monumentally as representation of what is to come but still are not quite yet monuments of the past. These are the relics we leave behind; totems of an automotive culture.