Largely influenced by his Midwest upbringing, Ben Geier’s pursuit of photography first began with a fascination for the abandoned. His unmistakable aesthetic and color palette have breathed new life into faded old spaces, and since then he has focused on broadening his work to capture architecture, roadside attractions, and, his true passion, all things retro and Americana. His first solo book, Viewing Hours, captures his photography over the last 10 years, showcasing images of signs, theatres, restaurants, motels, roadsides, and storefronts of these once vibrant and now abandoned treasures in 15 different states.
Viewing Hours: America's Vanishing Culture, featuring 150+ images, will be available in July 2025.
How did you first get into photography?
My career in photography surprisingly started through my involvement in music. I played drums in bands growing up and when you create anything in the indie/punk scene, it’s all about DIY. You don’t have the funds to hire a designer or photographer to help create album artwork or show fliers, so you just do it yourself. I started with a Canon 35mm to do to all of that, but even before that, I would use a Sony video camera to document all the live shows I used to attend, most of them filmed at the infamous Fireside Bowl in Chicago. Shooting video on a Sony Handycam was kind of my gateway into photography.
What made you interested in photographing these abandoned and/or vintage places?
I actually share a story in the book about a time in high school when a couple of friends and I snuck into an abandoned mall that had once been our local hangout back in grade school. I used to get my haircut there, buy cassette tapes there, see movies there—it was a central place in my childhood. Coming back to it years later, abandoned but with stores still intact, was both nostalgic and surreal. It felt like the entire community had moved on, like the space no longer had value and was just left behind. The theater still had its projector, rotting food at the beach hut restaurant, and even stocked shelves in K-mart.
That experience really stuck with me. I think there’s something uniquely American about how we discard our history and architecture when it no longer serves a commercial purpose. Instead of preserving these places, we often tear them down and replace them with some mega warehouse or a chain store.
That’s why I’ve dedicated so much time to photographing abandoned and vintage locations—because they carry historical and emotional weight. They hold memories for people. I constantly hear stories from viewers saying things like, “My wife and I had our first date at that restaurant,” or “I saw Jaws the summer of ’75 in that theater.” I love the connections viewers have to these places, so I guess I’m trying to keep those stories and places alive through my photos.
What inspired this collection of photos?
Unknowingly, I began photographing for Viewing Hours back in 2017, but it was during the pandemic that the project started to take shape. Like most everyone during the pandemic, I felt stir crazy being stuck indoors for so long, so one day I just got in the car and started driving—seeking out these locations to document them. Some trips were spontaneous: I’d drive 10 hours in one direction and barely give myself enough time to get back home in the same day. As I researched and drove more, my list of locations kept growing, and the trips became more elaborate and intentional.
In May, for example, I took a 9-day road trip through Texas to photograph a long list of locations—covering over 3,000 miles. I love road trips and I find the small rural towns intriguing and so special. Things move much slower in those smaller towns, they aren't rushing to tear down a historic building to build a fast food chain restaurant or something.
The main thread throughout the book is capturing these places before they disappear. You never know how long they’ll last. A few of the shots in the book were taken just days before the buildings were demolished or signs removed and sold to private collectors. It’s a race against time to preserve a visual record of spaces that meant so much to their communities.
Many of your photos explore modern architecture and minimalistic design in a very intentional way. What are you hoping viewers feel or notice when looking through this book?
I really hope viewers come away with a deeper appreciation for the value of American architecture, design, and history—and why it’s worth preserving. As I mentioned earlier, we have a tendency in this country to tear buildings down and replace them with cheap, disposable structures. Just drive down any American highway and you’ll see it: uninspired signage, junk construction, and a general acceptance of bad design simply because it’s economical.
Take Texas, for example—Starbucks just opened its first 3D-printed store. That’s framed as progress, but is it really? It sidelines architects, designers, and skilled trade workers in favor of efficiency and automation. To me, that’s not progress—it’s erasure.
My hope is that people and communities start to recognize the quiet beauty and cultural importance of the local storefronts, the family run restaurants, the grand theatre marquees. These places have soul. They deserve to be cared for, not bulldozed.
Tell us about your journey traveling around the U.S. to capture everything. Were there any locations in particular that stood out to you?
Not really specific locations—more so the experiences that really stood out for me.
Taking a trip along Route 66 is such a classic American experience. It’s filled with iconic road trip stops, diners, and motels—it’s a dream for any type of photographer. Many of the businesses along the route are already preparing for the Centennial next year, which will be an incredible time to experience it all.
But if I had to pick one place that really stands out, it would be Wildwood, New Jersey. It’s known as the Doo Wop—also referred to as Googie—architecture capital of the world. Wildwood is a five-mile-long island packed with mid-century buildings, retro design, and neon signs everywhere. The best part is that most of the neon still works and lights up every night. A lot of my photos from Wildwood are featured in Viewing Hours.
There’s a very cinematic quality and look to your imagery. Are there any artists, photographers, or filmmakers who have influenced your style?
There are certainly photographers who inspire me—some might even seem a bit obvious when you look at my work, like William Eggleston. He’s definitely an inspiration, but honestly, most of my inspiration comes from music and design.
I consistently listen to the Americana guitarist Hayden Pedigo while I’m on the road and out shooting. His music really sets the tone for the kind of imagery I’m drawn to. There are many other musicians who help me get into that headspace as well—John Fahey, Nathan Salsburg, and James Elkington.
I also come from a design background, and design plays a huge role in how I approach the locations I photograph. Every place I shoot has some kind of design element—whether it’s hand-painted signage, a retro color palette, texture and decay, or a towering neon sign.
The foreword for my book was written by Mark Robinson, a musician and designer who has inspired me since I was 15. He played in the band Unrest and runs the Teenbeat label, where he also designs nearly all of the album covers. Mark’s design work is incredible—bright, bold palettes, great use of typography—really all the elements you see within my photos.
What do you hope readers take away from Viewing Hours?
Truthfully, I just hope it makes people want to take a road trip—seriously. There are so many fun and interesting places across America, especially in those small, rural towns that often get overlooked. All those mom-and-pop spots are worth visiting and experiencing. There’s been a real resurgence in roadside attractions, with groups working to restore so many of these iconic places. The great American road trip is such a unique experience—you meet all kinds of people, see things you’d never expect, and come home with a bunch of stories to tell.
What advice do you have for other up-and-coming photographers?
With the risk of sounding trite, I would say to follow the imagery that truly resonates with you. I’ve photographed so many subjects—landscape photography, nature, abandoned spaces—before I found a real connection with roadside and Americana photography. It finally just clicked for me.
I’d also emphasize how crucial it is to promote your work. I wish I had done a better job of promoting myself earlier on. With social media, it’s easier than ever to get your art out there, so take full advantage of those platforms.
Viewing Hours will be in stores this July and is available for pre-order now.