Eveningside [The Laundromat Bundle] Location Image, 2021-2022

In Eveningside (2021-2022), Crewdson explores moments of contemplation within the confines of quotidien life, in places of employment, and in moments just outside of those work structures. The figures populating the pictures are sparse, and are often seen through storefront windows, in mirror reflections, or positioned underneath the mundane proscenium found in the midst of their everyday routines: railroad bridges, doorways, porches, the overhanging roofline of a bank teller drive-thru, a dairy bar, a corner market, or a hardware store. Bringing his vantage point closer to the figures, using a heightened range of light and darkness, special effects such as fog, rain, smoke, and haze, and for the first time using his now ubiquitous full production and lighting team in a monochromatic palette, the result is a rich gothic atmosphere, evocative of film noir and classic cinema, but with the capabilities and clarity of the most current technology available in digital photography. Edition: 1 of 1 — THE LAUNDROMAT EXT. EVENINGSIDE - WEST SIDE STREET CORNER - TWILIGHT We are positioned at an intersection in a knocked-about neighborhood on the west side of town. There is pavement in the foreground, potholed and blemished from sun, snow, weather, and neglect. The road that stretches out in front of us seems to offer a pathway to somewhere else, perhaps somewhere more optimistic. The light of day is nearly extinguished. Street lights have come on, and lights can be seen here and there in windows. There is a magical glow surrounding the scene, frorn dampness, and fog, difusing the fading light a day. The house closest to us, to our let, has a business on the ground floor. The building is covered head to toe in white aluminum siding and maintains a certain air of quasi-civilization and enterprise, in contrast to the houses that sit beyond, which are more ambiguously inhabited, empty, and/or maybe condemned. Across the street, there is a telephone pole with a LOST flyer tacked to it. It bears the image of an ADOLESCENT BOY. One of two large picture windows on the corner outfit bears the name WEST SIDE SUDS LAUNDRYMAT. We can see a WOMAN inside, folding clothes that have just came out of a laundry machine. The woman has paused, and gazes out the window toward the street. A nondescript, rusted, aging VAN approaches, with a solitary driver, a MAN, behind the wheel. Her eyes have met with his. The nature of the fleeting exchange feels slightly haunted, loaded, or somehow infused with recognition of some former time.