Structures is a photographic series that explores the melancholic, unruly beauty of a postindustrial landscape on Alameda Island in the San Francisco Bay Area. The massive World War Two era forms of concrete, glass, and steel that dominate this space are often dismissed as industrial blight—but I see them as silent witnesses to the sweeping transformations shaping our urban environments.

It is a landscape that leaves one feeling dwarfed—by the scale of what we’ve built, and by the relentless speed at which it all changes.

These buildings emerged from what has been called an “instant city”—a rapid, master-planned development that recalls the explosive growth of San Francisco during the Gold Rush. Unlike the city’s early organic sprawl that was shaped by thousands of individuals with little oversight, this landscape was built under strict controls governing design and material use. The result is a uniformity that feels disorienting and eerie—a bit like a Hollywood back lot.

Despite their utilitarian purpose, these structures possess a strange, ethereal beauty. Their vast scale, smooth surfaces, and flat roofs emphasize a powerful horizontality. Some are so immense that they defy comprehension from any single vantage point. They sit in seas of concrete—monolithic yet fragile in the face of time and change.

Shortly after these photographs were taken, the area began a new phase of redevelopment. The textured surfaces—plywood-covered windows, rusted steel, and fading paint—were erased. In their place came brewpubs, tech offices, and restaurants. These images now serve as a document of a vanished moment in American history.