Faded signs of life

The photos may, or may not, be old. And yet...

A ghost sign is a particular faded sign of life, an historical remnant from commerce's ceaseless desire to seduce. Like painted messages from banks declaring "Save With Us," once as a shout now a cracked mumble. A ghost sign indicates that something of some import to someone at sometime was here. Right here. All ghosts are local, talking to neighborhoods. A ghost sign is an old hand-painted advertising sign that has been preserved on a building for an extended period of time. A ghost sign is a faded sign of life.

People I've loved. Still love. People I've liked. Mostly still like. People I've never met. Probably want to.

We were there. Still are.

Don't look too closely because what now seems solid was once not and will be again

We support ourselves by reminding ourselves that we’re not alone in this fucking disaster. Here's April 5th in Haydenville and Northampton.

We support ourselves by reminding ourselves that we’re not alone in this fucking disaster. Here's March 9th in Northampton's Pulaski Park.

The unreality of borders

Visiting Ashfield and environs, March 2025

All Hallow's Eve, and people in the Pioneer Valley dress boldly to confuse always lurking Death. The people resist the inevitable by gathering together for a time-honored Rag Shag Parade.

The huge success of the 1973 movie "Paper Moon" with Ryan O'Neal and his Oscar-winning daughter Tatum inspired ABC to create a TV knockoff, also titled "Paper Moon." The show lasted one season. To introduce the show's 11-year-old star, Jodie Foster, the network called a press conference. Not much of one. Only two people showed up to a bare corporate room. They were editor Linda Ann Copersino of Teen Life magazine fame and me, the photographer. I felt bad for Jodie, just us two to greet her, a PR person at her side, Linda asking questions, me snapping. I most remember how much this young woman, someone new to me, impressed us with her calm and quiet maturity.

On June 12, 1982, one million people assembled in New York City for what was likely the largest single-city demonstration in American history, a nuclear-freeze protest coming at a saber-rattling peak of the Cold War. While most people have either overlooked that huge event from 40-plus years ago or never heard of it in the first place, I remember the protest because I was there. I went to Central Park with my camera. Why aren’t Americans, and all other peoples, protesting the end of civilized life on Earth if war ramps up with terrifying nuclear weapons?

Not all ghosts are signs, not all signs are painted, and ghosts come to visit us every damn day

Faded signs of life are everywhere. How we walked, what we saw, what mattered never goes away. Now faded but continually present. Photography for me is a mundane tool that captures constant memories, the daily faded signs of life. I'm also a lover of commercial and industrial decay, now fallen, once proud. I love words, and faded signs mix decay with vintage marketing messages. Faded signs of life tell us ghost stories. Look for them. -- David Hallerman

The photos may be old, or they may not be, and yet...