California City was platted in 1958 as the third-largest city in California by area. Almost none of it was built. What is there is a graded grid of paved streets with curbs, hydrants and street signs, running out into creosote. It is the most ordinary landscape imaginable and that is exactly why it is here.
Wait for overcast, or go early enough in winter that the light stays even. Hard sun makes these places dramatic, and dramatic is the wrong answer — the point is that they are dull and you chose them anyway. If the sky breaks blue, shoot flatter and closer.
One rhythm: nothing built → something dismantled → something hanging on → one man's hole in a hill. Four kinds of not-quite.
Flat light. Vacant subject. Chosen, not failed.
Teaches · Mundane — after Lewis Baltz · Grant Mudford
Open the whole day in Google Maps ↗ — in order: California City Blvd · SR-14 · Randsburg-Mojave Rd. It routes from wherever the phone is, and every spot below links its own leg the same way.
Tap any point for the leg it belongs to. North up the 14, then east into the Rand district.
No doors, no hours, no bookings. The only clock is the short winter day.
A weekend's unit is the day — each carries a locator map, its theme, and an energy read. A gold pill on the clock means that time belongs to someone else: a door that opens or a slot that was booked. Everything unpilled is a suggested shape, not a schedule.
The most ordinary landscape imaginable, chosen on purpose.
Dark for the first hour in December.
Drive out until the houses stop and the streets do not.
White on white, in the flattest light available.
Salt crust underfoot, structures going down into it.
Shoot the elevations square-on, same as any other wall.
One elevation per frame, same distance each time.
The picture is the portal, flat and centered, not the drama inside.
Top up before the dirt. From here it is 100 mi back to Mojave with nothing in between.
The drive is the effort of the day.
A black rectangle in a pale hill.
Off the dirt before the light goes.
Four stops, all free, all outdoors. The last one is down several miles of dirt. Tap a spot’s map for driving directions.
The geotag gets each frame close to where it stood — close, not exact; the last hundred yards are always a hunt. What a machine can't do is the part below: which ones survived, and whether the day was worth the drive.
The frame of the day.
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Is 'chosen, not failed' visible in the pictures, or only in my head?
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Would this set be stronger with fewer stops and more frames each?
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Did I make any of these look better than they are?
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Which frame is the most boring, and is it the best one?
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Was the flat light actually flat, or did I wait for something?
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