Acclaimed Vermont photographer Jim Westphalen’s film “Vanish: Disappearing Icons of Rural America” will screen at The Latchis Theatre in Brattleboro, Vt., on September 21, at 7 p.m. Feast your eyes on this:
I spoke with Jim Westphalen yesterday afternoon. After seeing his visually stunning film, I had so many questions. First, I learned that readers of The Berkshire Edge can check out his photographs at the Iris Gallery of Fine Art in Great Barrington, which is awesome.
Second, I learned Westphalen’s project began in Vermont, grew to New England, and then expanded across the country. In fact, the filmmaker just returned from a two week trip to the Dakotas.
But he did not begin photographing these vanishing buildings and what he calls the “beauty in decay” until shortly after moving from suburban Long Island to rural Vermont in 1996. In fact, his love for rural landscapes started during childhood summers spent visiting his grandmother. In the Poconos of Pennsylvania, Westphalen discovered a mystique that captured his imagination.
“Vanish” will enthrall audiences living in the Taconic Range, the Litchfield Hills, and the Berkshires—anywhere rural structures he calls fading gems still stand. Think of ice houses, horse barns, and train depots. What’s more, the film’s original score by composer Christopher Hawthorn will delight Tanglewood fans.
From where I now live on Nantucket, house moves—the structural recycling of homes—is a practice the town describes as critical to the island’s affordable-housing efforts. Such moves keep tons of demolition debris out of the municipal landfill. Plus, we have all seen oversized modular units trucked on interstate highways to create homes in the first place.
But what happens when a 200-ton brick train depot from 1868 must move a mile and a half in order to survive? This is exactly what occurred with the New Haven, Vt., depot. And seeing its time-lapse move in “Vanish,” in subzero, early morning hours will grab your attention. Sneak peek right here, hoisted 18 feet off the ground:
I recently found myself at a venue called The Salt Shed for an after-party following Kamala Harris’ speech at the Democratic National Convention. Indeed, this spot was once the Morton Salt complex for almost a century. I marveled at its size, acoustics, and obvious preservation. Like Jim Westphalen, I mourn the loss of “the fading, the crumbling, the peeling, and the rusted.”
Of course The Salt Shed sits in an urban place. Yet hardworking, enterprising, honest people made a living there, too, just as Westphalen’s interviewees did as homesteaders and farmers and schoolteachers.
And like him, as a child I too marveled at the rural landscapes of my father’s formative years in Maine. Many of these buildings are long gone, though I still appreciate the faded clapboards of those that still stand, no matter if they are old firehouses, empty convents, or abandoned tobacco barns.
Similarly, Westphalen wondered if what he saw locally was happening elsewhere. This led to his cross-country road trip, where viewers will gasp at achingly beautiful but empty buildings set against Montana’s big sky country.
The filmmaker told me this aesthetic and artistic choice allowed him not only to answer his own question but to tell the story of the “Vanish” project in a broader way. Indeed, rural Montana looks very different from rural New England. And I believe Westphalen’s hybrid approach to the documentary works tremendously well.
I sincerely hope a local cinema will consider screening “Vanish: Disappearing Icons in a Rural America.” Westphalen seems genuinely interested in spreading his message: “Treasure these structures now.” And the Connecticut River Valley, the Berkshires, and the Hudson Valley are lucky to have many tired old beauties.
In fact, I would love to know what Berkshire building icons you hope never vanish. Feel free to leave a comment!
