From the Archives: Self Portrait, Albany NY. November 2010. I’m heading back up to Albany for a couple of days again next week, which will mark my fifth (or is it sixth…) trip to that strange little place. I always try to shoot there as much as possible, and I always find it really difficult. It has all the makings of a regular city, except that the streets are largely empty of people, even during the busiest parts of the day; the whole centre seems to be a weird mix of dead buildings and sparcely-strewn bars, with a few hotels and expensive restaurants dotted around, presumably to cater to the politicos who fly in, waste everyone’s time and money, then fly out again. There’s just something inherently confusing about the place, though I still can’t figure out what it is. 
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From the Archives: Self Portrait, Albany NY. November 2010.

I’m heading back up to Albany for a couple of days again next week, which will mark my fifth (or is it sixth…) trip to that strange little place. I always try to shoot there as much as possible, and I always find it really difficult. It has all the makings of a regular city, except that the streets are largely empty of people, even during the busiest parts of the day; the whole centre seems to be a weird mix of dead buildings and sparcely-strewn bars, with a few hotels and expensive restaurants dotted around, presumably to cater to the politicos who fly in, waste everyone’s time and money, then fly out again. There’s just something inherently confusing about the place, though I still can’t figure out what it is. 

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