Always Clear The Building

Discovery

Back in 2011, on dull grey October morning I traveled to one of my favorite locations, Fort Wetherill in Jamestown, Rhode Island.  There was something strangely detached about the way I was feeling as I tried get beyond the normal perception of reality and immerse myself in the timeless flow of history and quietly hostile nature that coursed through the derelict defenses.  My first destination was Battery Varnum which I had visited numerous times since I first came upon the imposing concrete coast artillery emplacement that I initially referred to as "Cosmoliner* Heaven" a few years before. It stands alone separate from the sprawling main gun line of the rest of the fort on a distinctively shaped formation once known as "The Dumpling" for its compact mound-like appearance.  It had been the fortified in one fashion or another dating back to pre-Revolutionary times as it was advantageously situated over the entrance to Newport Harbor. The existing battery was the first to be completed of the Endicott-Taft period reinforced concrete batteries that stretch across the 100 foot high cliffs overlooking the harbor. 

Generally I make a point of "clearing the building" making sure to check all the rooms for the presence of anything (or anyone) unexpected.  On this occasion however I became complacent since my surroundings were so familiar.  I eschewed my standard operating procedure and ignored the usual search.  As I ventured down the long shadowy corridor that spans the battery I half stumbled across an unanticipated protrusion in the floor.  When I shined my flashlight on the object I tripped over I was stunned to see that it was the body of an opossum.  I noticed further that it appeared to have been the victim of some sort of attack as there were numerous stab wounds in the unfortunate creature's abdomen.  A fairly fresh trail of blood led to one of the magazine rooms off to the side of the main corridor.  At the end of the blood trail was a sizable puddle of blood with a fish scaling knife lying nearby.  This heinous act had not occurred all that long before my arrival, possibly as recently as the night before. It was a shocking revelation that snapped me out of my lackadaisical state. I immediately assumed a full defensive posture and cautiously inspected the entire battery, checking each blackened magazine thoroughly to make sure the perpetrator was not still lurking about somewhere.  After making this grisly discovery I stepped outside into the deserted alleyway that separates the ordinance rooms from what had been the power plant and plotting rooms of the battery complex to gather my thoughts.  

The only sound in the vacant alley was that of a white plastic bag fluttering like a flag of surrender as it was entangled in the overgrown shell absorbing earthworks covering the roofs of the structure.  I felt like I had been selected to be a solitary witness and that as disturbing as my find had been my first obligation was to go back in order to document what I had literally stumbled upon to somehow provide some context.  It was, after all, an element of the unconventional narrative that I was a part of that day and not unlike that which I had experienced throughout my explorations of the Coast Artillery positions. There was a cold-blooded viciousness to the act that repelled me while at the same time compelled me to confront and  somehow rationalize it in relation to that tale of endless war and indifferent nature. I went back and shot the video posted above seeing it as a curiously juxtaposed extension of a scene I had shot that summer in a bunker at Fort Standish in Boston Harbor.  In that video the unseen narrator leads the viewer on a tour of a long abandoned bunker to the darkened ammo room where he indicates the saga of his tragic wartime experiences began.  When I emerged from shooting the current scene of the crime a flock of hundreds of birds swooped and swirled over the battery almost as if the madness of the moment had possessed them and driven them to a squawking mass frenzy.  

Later in the same day I journeyed over to Fort Adams across the channel in Newport.  I was disappointed to find that all of the gun positions had been sealed to the public, but I did come across what had been the fort's cemetery.  As I wandered among the ancient headstones of soldiers who died from maladies and fevers while posted at the fort the headstones shifted unexpectedly from those of fallen warriors to those of babies. They were the soldiers' offspring who had succumbed to the high rates of infant mortality that plagued the world of the 19th and early 20th centuries.  Under the inscrutable gaze of a bronze bust of John Adams, who had once described his namesake fortress as "the rock against which the storm shall break", row after row of grave markers simply proclaimed "Baby", "Baby"...  

And so went my expedition into the greyness of one October day in the murky shadows of history.

*Cosmoliner was term for Coast Artillery Corps soldiers as they were constantly covered with the petroleum gel, cosmoline that was used to rust proof the guns they serviced. 

The Devil In The Details

Entering the the unknown.

On a hot, steamy August morning in 2008 I approached the Quartermaster's Warehouse at Fort Andrews on Peddocks Island.  As I trudged through the gigantic almost pre-historic looking weeds and ferns I noticed the ground had become quite muddy due to the rainstorms the night before.  I had never in seven summers of going there seen a single mammal on the island, not even a squirrel, but as I looked down that day I noticed cloven hoof prints in the muddy path leading up to the warehouse. "Deer?" was my first reaction, "Or the devil!" was my second. (This being Peddocks I had learned over the years that it was a wildly different kind of place and to expect virtually any realization in this world of altered perception.)  Despite my trepidation about encountering the Prince of Darkness himself I proceeded to enter the building.  The warehouse was actually two separate buildings connected together to appear as one large brick structure.  The other half was the Corps of Engineers warehouse.  The Quartermaster's portion of the building was where a large mural of the USS North Carolina had allegedly been drawn by Italian POWs who were interned here during World War II. This was located in a very dark office on the second floor.  Though I had been in the office in years past it was so dark that I didn't know the drawing was there until years later when after hearing about its existence I went to deliberately to search it out.  Such was Peddocks where in the shifting light things appeared and disappeared almost as though in a dream.

I had been photographing and documenting the drawings in the office on a number of occasions that summer.  The main culmination of this was a photo I called Between The Windows of The Sea which depicted the North Carolina image. I also recorded the two smaller crests in the room; the 241st Coast Artillery Corps unit insignia and the Coast Artillery Corps insignia as well.  And as shown above I shot numerous videos of entering the building and finding the office.

On this particular day I wanted to closely examine the remarkable detail of the North Carolina drawing.  This was  outside of my usual operating procedure as I always tried to not get to sucked in or preoccupied by some distracting detail  as while Peddocks was a magical place I always realized that it could kill you too if your head wasn't screwed on about going there.  These were dangerous buildings that had not been maintained in nearly 70 years.  A careless step could be disastrous.  My relaxed attitude about entering the building for the fourth time in a couple of weeks led me to not "clear the building" as I always did before conducting operations. This would come back on me a short while later.

 As I intently perused the picture the silence was shattered by an incredibly loud bang from the third floor. It sounded as though something extremely heavy had slammed to the floor though I knew no large objects existed in that floor. With my heart still racing from the initial shock I hurriedly gathered all my gear which I had casually laid around the room.  My first inclination was to immediately abort the mission and head for the exit.  But then I was overcome by a feeling of resolve to "hold the position"..  I felt I had taken the building and I was determined to not be driven out no matter what.  I headed to the other end of the hall where there was a large warehouse room.  I dropped my gear and lit up some smoke, waiting for what or whoever made that noise to make themselves known.  I left at my own speed eventually, but I never went upstairs to see what it was either.  When one ascended those stairs their heads would be the first thing exposed at floor level...and I had seen those horror movies.

You can now purchase beautiful 13" x 19" prints of  my new portfolio, Endless War, at my new shop at www.facebook.com/donfeeneyphotography/ as well as on my website at www.donfeeney.com

New! Endless War

Blood In The Water

My journey through the ruins of World War II has taken me to many unexpected and unusual places both physical and metaphysical.  No journey has been more transformative though than that which found me emerging from behind the camera to appear as the subject(s) of my photographs. This through-the-lens progression started innocently enough with my adopting more and more actual military gear as the clothing and equipment I used while photographing out of practicality.  I had written about this a while back in an earlier post entitled, The Lost Year and the Commando Raid.  I then started to portray a solitary figure as a result of an aborted project a friend of mine had wanted to do involving an armed hooded figure.  I liked the idea and decided to try to do it myself.  I had not been accustomed to photographing the figure at the time so it was an interesting challenge to pursue. I did a small series based on this concept, but soon was confronted with the limits of  constantly depicting a single individual.  Some time passed where I was not inspired do any figurative work, but concentrated instead on a series based on projecting images in the rooms of the bunkers.  I still like to incorporate this device into my latest work at times.

Last Fall I decided to once again attempt to re-approach the beast I had known as Photoshop for a third time.  My two previous forays with the program were fraught with confusion and frustration, but I knew I had overcome this in order to take my work to a higher level as I am always striving to do,  This time I broke through the barriers that previously existed and came to grips with the demon. It enabled me to expand my vision in the direction I had first conceived when I started taking pictures which was to photographically create the kinds of scenes that I had done using found images and painted backgrounds.  This caused me to change the way that I worked immensely.  I can now populate my scenes with multiple characters.  I no longer rely on happenstance in a stream of consciousness kind of way, but rather I approach creating each scene more like shooting a movie. There is an entirely new set of demands both visually and physically that must be accommodated. For one thing, whereas before the idea was to infiltrate and flow with the nature of the location, now each scene has to be "scripted" and performed, as it were, and then extensively edited to make it visually compelling.  I still rely greatly on the spectacular natural light found in the forts, but I have also started to augment it with the use of a flash at times.  I have also now discovered the virtues of cloudy weather for its wonderfully even light and ominous feel.  In the past I would seek out the sunniest days to infuse the structures with the most vibrant, lurid color.  All of this I feel has reinvigorated my work and opened unlimited possibilities. 

The culmination of this transformation is now available for viewing in a new portfolio entitled, Endless War.  You can view and purchase these new images at my website: www.donfeeney.com and on my Facebook page,  All of the images on my website are available and are custom printed in various sizes from 4" x 6" up to /16" x 24".  You can also view and follow the photos on Instagram. Please contact me at donfeeney@donfeeney.com if you have any questions or requests.

Update: You can now purchase beautiful 13" x 19" prints of  my new portfolio, Endless War, at my new shop at www.facebook.com/donfeeneyphotography/