Kindly take a seat.

Chairs. People ask why I seem to take lots of pictures of chairs when I visit the Mojave. "Why travel all that way to snap a seat? You could do that at IKEA!". Hmm. Truth is that while I don't spend all my time hunting down sofas, bar stools, sun loungers and garden seats while I'm working, and I haven't counted how many images of chairs I have, there does appear to be a particularly large population of, let's say, feral seating at large in the desert.  Much of it boils down to the simple fact that most of the abandoned homes I photograph possess, amongst their scattered household items, one or two chairs, they seem to be everywhere and there is something irresistibly intriguing about them.

I love how metal chair frames maintain a defiantly upright posture while much of the debris around them is in a state of gradual disintegration. I enjoy the contrast between a seat's manufactured lines and the natural shapes and textures of the desert.  Upholstered chairs like sofas, if left outside, first bleach and crack in the sun and then gradually give up their stuffing until there's just a rotten old frame and some springs left lurking in the cavity.  Even the old fabric or plastic patterns have a retro appeal. And, in case you were tempted to ask, I never sit on them. Those sun-baked frames can be fragile and animals make their homes inside them too!  No matter what their shape or size, indoors or outside, these chairs add a strong narrative element to photographs and I always find myself thinking "Who sat in that chair?".