Take nothing but photographs, leave nothing but footprints - Urban Explorers’ codex. Exploring bunkers, tunnels, catacombs, old factories and ghost-towns, Urban Explorers find beauty in decay. Urban Explorer and photographer Jan Emil Christiansen shoots abandoned locations, and models in Urbex environ ments. This book shows 67 of his photographs, all of them tied to one-liners, stories and lyrics by Maja Vind & Umpff.
U R B E X
u r b a n e x p l o r a t i o n
a J p n a h d n o t M E o s a
URBEX urban exploration m j i a l
a
locations : abandoned dolls : high-class girls : nude models : horror
M J a a n j a E V m i n i l d C & h r i U s m t i a p n f f s e n
URBEX.ABANDON.DK
URBEX.ABANDON.DK
V C n d i h n r d i s w t o & r i d U a s m n p s f e b f n y
urban exploration nude
decay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town catacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls adventure exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access secret examination unseen creepy high-class girls hauntingly beautiful trespassing photography low-light take nothing but pictures leave nothing but footprints bumper-car model environment naked fences locations forgotten plants urban exploration nude art hidden abandoned structures old factories decay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town catacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls adventure exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access secret examination unseen creepy high-class girls hauntingly beautiful trespassing photography low-light take nothing but pictures leave nothing but footprints bumper-car model environment naked fences locations forgotten plants urban exploration nude art hidden abandoned structures old factories cadecay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town ca tacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls advenart hidden abandoned structures old factories
ture exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access
secret examination
unseen creepy
high-class girls hauntingly beautiful trespassing photography low-light take nothing but pictures leave nothing but footprints bumper-car model environment naked fences locations forgotten plants urban exploration nude art hidden abandoned structures old factories decay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town catacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls adventure exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access secret examination unseen creepy high-class girls hauntingly beautiful locations trespassing photography
urban exploration nude
decay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town catacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls adventure exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access secret examination unseen creepy high-class girls hauntingly beautiful trespassing photography low-light take nothing but pictures leave nothing but footprints bumper-car model environment naked fences locations forgotten plants urban exploration nude art hidden abandoned structures old factories decay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town catacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls adventure exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access secret examination unseen creepy high-class girls hauntingly beautiful trespassing photography low-light take nothing but pictures leave nothing but footprints bumper-car model environment naked fences locations forgotten plants urban exploration nude art hidden abandoned structures old factories cadecay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town ca tacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls advenart hidden abandoned structures old factories
ture exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access
secret examination
unseen creepy
high-class girls hauntingly beautiful trespassing photography low-light take nothing but pictures leave nothing but footprints bumper-car model environment naked fences locations forgotten plants urban exploration nude art hidden abandoned structures old factories decay urban ruins tunnels hidden places the city derelict nude models tripod ghost-town catacombs horror abandoned flash-lights chernobyl natures takes back abandoned dolls adventure exploring rusty industrial decay beauty heritage access secret examination unseen creepy high-class girls hauntingly beautiful locations trespassing photography
URBEX urban exploration locations abandoned dolls high-class girls horror nude models
photos by Jan words by Maja
Emil Christiansen Vind & Umpff
PREFACE
Settled dust littering the factory floor and the abandoned desks placed haphazardly around one side of the hall, clearly in disuse, is a solemn remnant of past industry.
The large mechanical apparatures standing in the other side of the hall are covered in rust, and cobwebs are woven between them, a testament to the decline of the building. Wrought-iron beams loom overhead, the dilapidated state of the huge open hall making them seem perilously close to falling, giving the scene even more of an atmosphere of complete disrepair and dangerous decay. The dim orange light of a setting sun makes bits of glass on the floor shimmer, and moist spots reveal the cracks in the skylight they came from.
URBEX - Urban Exploration, locations, abandoned dolls, high-class girls, horror, nude models Copyright 2011 by Jan Emil Christiansen (photos) Maja Vind (words) Umpff (words)
Background-noise filters in through a few broken windows – sounds of trucks, industrial-grade cranes, the grinding of steel meeting steel and a few coarsely bellowed instructions – all in stark contrast to the bleak, run-down production-floor, breaking the illusion of post-apocalyptic neglect and disrepair. The only sound from inside the hall is muffled staccato-clicking from the camera capturing the gritty, gloomy scene and the whirring lens zip in and out to find the perfect balance between the desolate background and vibrant centerpiece.
Art-work & graphic design by Maja Vind & Umpff Preface by Patrick Rattleff Photo-editing by Ursula Damgaard
A sudden shifting of the feet causes the model in front of the camera to break the relative silence as she unwittingly kicks a bolt a few feet, hitting the iron-plated side of a desk.
ISBN: First edition, first printing, 2011
The sound momentarily reverberates through the whole room, and she apologetically bites her lip, throwing me a sheepish look.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission from the copyright-holders, except in the case of brief extracts embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Her lithe form twist and bend, angling to mimic the rigid design of the disused facility while showing off her fabulous figure.
Long, dark hair caress her neck, shoulders and breasts, leaving something to the imagination while still being unmistakably erotic and sensual. A carefully placed hand shield her womanhood, keeping vulgarity at bay. This is art, his art, and the blending of the vivacious, fragile, alluring young lady against the harsh, barren backdrop of the once-busy hall is the perfect motif. As the sun sets and darkness is about to bring the secretive shoot to a conclusion, the model walks off to the side to get redressed, and the photographer sets down the camera on a tripod, makes adjustments with meticulous care, and presses a button before jogging off to lean against a large, defunct device in front of the camera. As the Canon 50D shutter closes a final time, the photographer marvels at the scene in the twillight, and is unable to suppress a broad smile. His name is Jan Emil, and he’s behind the camera on this type of shoot as often as he possibly can; this marvellous foray into a seldom-seen branch of photography marks him as part of a stealthy, roguish, curious subculture - Urban Exploration, or ‘Urbex’. His passion and calling, a raison d’être for the young professional. The thrill of discovering scenes and places few will ever see and fewer still appreciate for their unconventional beauty and mood - that is what these pictures are all about. Letting him capture a scene in a unique, untouched environment, digitally preserving it from further ravages of time while adding to the scene in a significant, artistic and tasteful way.
Patrick Rattleff, 2011
LOCATIONS
The plants are taking back the paved areas. The water is taking back the iron. The air is freed from smog. The amusement park can soon be called nature again.
The boy’s parents had divorced. He had moved to another town with his mother, but even after a year he didn’t feel at ease there. He missed his school and the rest of the family. He missed the tree in the backyard and he missed building soapbox cars with his brother. He hadn’t seen his brother for a while, but he had called on the boy’s birthday and had promised to take him to the new amusement park in April when they opened. ’I wanna try the bumper cars, can we do that?’ ’Sure, but you gotta promise me to be careful then. No sticking your hands out, okay? Promise?’ They went there on a sunny Saturday. It had become late April, and the boy had been anxiously impatient the entire month. The park was crowded with energetic people, still enjoying the newfound daylight and warmth. ’The queue is too long, it’ll take hours for us to get in there. Do you wanna try something else before we try the bumper cars? Maybe there’ll be fewer people later.’ ’I don’t wanna wait, I wanna ride the cars. Can’t we just stand in line and maybe it won’t take that long?’ His brother didn’t feel like it. To stand there in the sun, getting all baked and sweaty and pushed around by the other visitors.. He really didn’t feel like it. ’Hmm.. Okay, but I’m sure it’ll take longer than you imagine.’ ’It’s okay. But can we ride a car together?’ ’Sure.’ They waited. The sun really was baking but the boy just kept a smile on his face. His brother wasn’t quite as patient, but seeing his kid brother so happy was worth it. They waited..
Old heap of rusty metal. You’re old and cold and slow. Your beauty has decayed, overpassed by time. Your services are no longer needed. Now you’re nothing but a photograph in a book.
Billy loved his car. All the things he had to do, for himself, Patty and their unborn child. Billy had sworn that his family should have all he hadn’t had, growing up with a mother who didn’t care and a father who went for cigarettes and never came back. Three decades later the car is a play-house for Patty and Billy’s grandchildren.
I’m a hell-rider A high-heeled pedal-master on a bike Clad all in rubber with a frosting of gold On my bike I ride into the sky Golden rubber in a glimpse of an eye No need to worry, no need to frown I’m always back in my place before dawn
Once we played good cop/bad cop. You tied me up, rolled up your sleeves and shouted in my face, it was ever so nice. Then you morphed into the good cop, though your actions wouldn’t have been legal if it was real life. I really enjoyed our play-time.
You make me dizzy Copenhagen the way you try to grow You make me dizzy Copenhagen your standards are so low Come on Copenhagen share some love before I go Come on Copenhagen give me something more You make me dizzy Copenhagen you’re all flat on your back you want to be a-rockin’ and a-rollin’ but you’re just strollin’ down someone else’s path
We used to play here. Me with my matchbox cars, you with your imaginary tea & biscuits and guests gathered around a table that wasn’t there. One day someone told me about cooties and nothing was ever the same. We never played here again, barely talked when bumping into each other in the streets. We were way too young and far too old.
Life is back. But no humans.
He hated school, it was boring beyond belief. Geography was worst of all, who cares if Denmark is the capital of Stockholm?! Chemistry was the only class he enjoyed. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed it so much he decided to stay after school one day and experiment with that Big Bang theory.
I’m gonna make it... Just a few more feet and I’m ready to jump. I’m gonna make it!
When I was a kid my dad was high up in the Kremlin. We were the only family in the neighbourhood who owned a car and a tv, and the only ones who were really fat from eating all that food. My best friend’s family weren’t as fat, so they went looking for love in Siberia. Those were happy days.
ABANDONED DOLLS
He was walking around looking at shops. His day had been hard and he longed for home. But he had to do this. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for. When he saw it he knew it. It was the eyes. The eyes were just as blue as his daughter’s – this doll would be her birthday gift.
Black and blue Glamour in trash Chaotic peacefulness The dust and the water, the flaking paint Children’s toys in dead places playing the game of silence Your eyes are shut your smile is stiff your body is cold your mind is numb Feelings are gone, love has vanished You pray for absolution for the doll you left behind
Hey, I’m over here! Someone please help me down?!
Is this better or worse than a headache? At least there’s no head to ache here.
I pledge allegiance to... Your foot on the monitor your way too tight t-shirt your stretched out arm ending in a clinched fist your heartfelt chanting of ’Metal is king!’
A peaceful face in an awful place.
As a child she dreamt of becoming a hairdresser. She wanted to fill people’s lives with glamour, make them feel beautiful, like movie stars. She wanted to be the star of her own shop, her own place of creativity and style. She would be in charge, yet still be the caring friend of all her customers. She would make them relax, feel at home. She would listen to their thoughts and worries and stories of last night’s dinner.
But, we were just playing…
I can’t believe Emily forgot to bring me home for the holidays. I feel neglected, scared, alone. I feel sick.
HIGH-CLASS GIRLS
Wonder if my ass looks big in this dress? I need a mirror. How can there not be a mirror in this place?
He’s always so busy. Work, work, work. Business and meetings all the time. Sure, the house is wonderful, the clothes, the food. I love the parties. But this wasn’t what I dreamed of. I wanted love AND luxury. Guess I’ll just hug myself..
She had to get out of there. Get some privacy. She felt naked in his company, vulnerable, weak. It didn’t use to be like this. They used to respect each other. He used to respect her. He used to treat her like a woman, not a thing. Now she felt like a piece of furniture, a part of the interior and nothing more than that. She had to get out. Get some air. But she still felt naked. She couldn’t go out, there would be people there and she would still feel naked, vulnerable, weak. Ashamed of what she had let herself become, to herself and to him. She used to respect herself. She had to get out of there.
Why is that kid so demanding? He never wants to eat the food I make him.. What have we done wrong?
The sun burns my skin as I’m used to living within these empty rooms of decadence and skin trade where boredom looms A life in a wooden-paneled coffin is no fun when all you need is loving
What is this? Last thing I remember is being at home, in my apartment, doing the dishes and waiting for Friends to come on the telly. And what’s up with the camera?
Her husband was on a business-trip. She had sent the servants home for the weekend. For the first time in years she was completely alone. The house felt like an empty labyrinth, and she had the map imprinted.
C’mere you .. you .. Ah, I can’t think of anything but chocolate right now.
Mmm, this carpet is so soft! I want to be wrapped in it forever.
The realtor did talk about the beautiful light in this room. But I never imagined it to be so .. .. invigorating.
I love dancing. I love dancing alone I feel elegant. I feel free People can see me and I don’t care They can look all they want I’m fine just the way I am I dance alone
What is it about men like him? Is it the clothes? The dirt on their hands? The sweat on his muscular body? The thought of scrubbing his back, getting him clean and ready. He’s probably going home to a tiny apartment. He could have all this. He could even have me.
HORROR
The wires that provide the modern world with socalled necessities, the plastic which the girl is wrapped in. The metal and ink, the army-like haircut. The soft body of a beautiful woman.
She never was a big fan of pajamas parties.
The evening was going quite well, he thought. She was kind, beautiful, funny. She enjoyed his stories and seemed earnestly interested in him. They had been to a restaurant – not exactly a fancy one, but the food had been nice, the atmosphere good, and the wine had done its job. After that, they went to a bar. Just for a single beer she said. She liked him. For the first time since that disastrous time with Mike, she was sincerely enjoying a date. They had both gotten rather tipsy, and when they left the bar they just walked. Nowhere to in particular, none of them had thought about it. They just walked and talked and enjoyed each other’s company. They got to a deserted place. They didn’t know where they were but they didn’t care. If it hadn’t been for that one small remark, they probably would’ve met again. But she ain’t meeting no one no more.
You put your dead arm up you put your dead arm down up down up down you rise up from the grave you do a droolin’-mummy-dance and you turn around that’s what it’s all about Uh-uh the droolin’-mummy-dance Uh-uh the droolin’-mummy-dance Uh-uh the droolin’-mummy-dance Gaze-wrap, arms stretch Gargh! Gargh! Gargh!
Do you wish me to disfigure this doll’s face? Do you want me to rip off it’s head? Do you want me to burn it and piss in the ashes? Or would you like to come to a party with me and my dolls? Cups and cakes, oh what good tea mommy makes.
Mmmm cherries... It’s always the season for a big bowl of cherries.
A good day’s work.
NUDE MODELS
Come on, couldn’t he be just a little bit slower?! So freaking indecisive. I gotta get some food before the shops close. Oh, and shampoo. I need that too. ’Stand like this, tilt your head a bit – no, to the other side.’ Dance like a trained fucking monkey?! This isn’t worth it. Wonder if he’ll even pay me.
What a party! I’m quite alright, except for the sun in my face.
Ready to attack.
Imaginary strings on my wrists and a mask on my face. I’m a puppet to a photographer. I’m dancing in a deserted place. Postures and positions and stilettos on concrete.
What does that tag say? DiR … Aah, that’s a C.
They won’t find me here. I’m too clever for them all. Check the fox behind my ear, it’s so sly you could film it and call it ’Rocky’.
Schyy, we’re playing hide and seek.
What an idiot... Why did he have to go and pick up cigarettes? All signs pointed in the direction of the perfect first date up until now.
Beer, beer, beeeeeer.
Found ya..!
I’m steel, I can carry heavy weights. I’m flesh and blood, I can carry heavy thoughts. In whatever position you choose for me to stand, I will always remain human.
Light! Air… No way out. I’ve been running through these tunnels for … how long? Can’t remember. It feels like months. I can hear traffic up there. It must be a highway. But where? Someone! Anyone!! Please help me out of here!! Help me! God.. How did I even get here? I remember the motel, but.. Was someone else in the room? Why has this happened to me?!?
Follow the pipes and feel the floor. Listen to your footsteps in the water. See the light and touch the darkness. See what you find at the end of the corridor.
Living the nightmare.
He said four years, three more to go. I wish he’d write me letters, time passes so slow.
This modern Eve in this modern world, deserted, dilapidated, alone, in a hidden house of peace and loneliness. And she can stretch her arms and sway her hips too.
Am I a plant? Your plant? Or the last evidence of life in the big city? I need sun and water.
Flying. Vrooooom.
I hate spider’s webs, even when the last spider is long since dead. The webs are like a thousand sticky hands reaching out for me, for no reason but to touch. Please wake me so I can wash my hair, it feels all sticky and gross.
Camera - check. Passport - check. Sunblocker - check. Stamps for the postcards for my mum - check. ’I love Urbex’-shirt for my nephew - check. I just can’t escape the feeling that there’s something I’ve forgotten...
I hadn’t planned on being a runaway bride, but things got a little out of hand at my hen party, and I accidentally married the cab-driver as I had no money to pay the fare, and I didn’t feel like being neither a prostitute nor a runaway. Now I am a runaway, but at least I’m no bigamist.
