Ben Geier, photographer of Trope's upcoming release, Viewing Hours, takes us "behind the shot" on his some of his most memorable images featured in his new book.
Viewing Hours will be in stores at the end of July and is available for pre-order on trope.com.
The Gem Theatre, Cairo, Illinois
This story is actually in the book, but it felt like a turning point—for me, and for how the whole theme of Viewing Hours came to be.
Unknowingly, this photo of the Gem Theatre was the first one I took for the book, back in June 2017. It was also the first time I’d ever been to Cairo, Illinois. The town is about a six-hour drive from where I live, and on a whim, I decided to wake up early one morning and make the trip. For anyone unfamiliar, Cairo sits at the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. It was once a thriving supply hub, but years of flooding and disinvestment have left it mostly abandoned—more ghost town than city now. At the time, I was pretty obsessed with the abandoned aesthetic, and Cairo is full of it: massive buildings overtaken by weeds and houses sinking into overgrowth.
I drove straight into the center of town, parked, stepped out of the car, and lined up this shot of the Gem Theatre. That’s when I heard an older man call out, “You’re too late!” He was referring to the theatre, which has been closed since the late '70s, as well as most of the town itself. He continued pointing in every direction, telling me what used to be where—like the chamber building with its missing front door, the neighboring structure with a dead Christmas wreath still hanging above it, and Commerce Street, which no longer had a single shop along the entire street.
The Gem Theatre is one out of thirty-two theatres in the book, nineteen sit vacant, four are actively being restored, one has completely vanished (though its sign is being preserved and heading to a museum), and one is slated for demolition.
I really had no idea that when I framed up that the photo of the Gem Theatre and the local man yelled out to me, that it would be the moment that started me down a path to document all of these historically vibrant places before they’re completely gone.
Longhorn Ranch in the Fog, Moriarty, New Mexico
This photo was taken along a short stretch of Route 66 in Moriarty, New Mexico. It has a different feel than most of the images in Viewing Hours—more subdued, dark, and eerie. For a while, I thought about using it as the book cover, but it didn’t quite capture the overall visual tone of the photo collection.
Still, I keep coming back to it. There’s something about this photo that taps into the heart of what Viewing Hours is all about: how quickly time passes, and how easily things disappear.
The photo was taken at the site of the Longhorn Ranch. At its peak, the Longhorn Ranch was a full-service roadside destination: cafe, gas station, motel, liquor store, curio shop, and museum.
About a week after I took this shot, most of the structures were demolished, and the original neon sign was removed. Drive past it now, and you’d barely know anything was ever there.
To add to that sense of impermanence, I took this photo early in the morning, when the fog was thick and the scene felt almost frozen in time. Just five minutes later, the sun broke through, and the fog had completely cleared. That fleetingness is exactly what I’m trying to hold onto with this collection of photos.
Rest Haven Court, Springfield, Missouri
Some say timing is everything in photography—or at least, it was for me with this shot of the Rest Haven Court. When I plan out photo trips, I spend a lot of time researching locations: when the light will be best, whether the neon still works, what time it might turn on—if it turns on at all. I’ve definitely been let down before. I’ll wait until sunset, hoping for that glow, and the sign just stays dark.
With Rest Haven Court, I couldn’t find anything recent enough to confirm that the sign still lit up. Some older photos hinted that a few elements might still work, so I took a chance and showed up around blue hour—my favorite time to shoot neon. I waited. And waited. After about an hour, I started packing up, assuming I’d missed my shot. Then suddenly, the sign started to buzz. I hurried to set up my tripod, flipped on the camera—and right then, a vintage station wagon pulled into the frame. If you look in the backseat of the car, you can see two teenagers posing and smiling for their dad, who made the stop to photograph his vintage car in front of the sign. I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.
Pre-order your copy of Viewing Hours today.