The Tombs of Apocryphal Kings by Chipka
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No AI - This artwork was created entirely by hand or with traditional digital tools.
Description
Eighteenth Street is vague and insubstantial—the urchin-child of progress and history. It claims something of each, but lacks their truest, existential substance. Progress has marched bravely forward. History has moved timidly back. Eighteenth Street stands with uncertainty in the gap between them unsure of all but its numerical designation.
Like most streets of an east/west pedigree, Eighteenth terminates within steps of the lake. It doesn’t make it as far as others, as the city’s South-of-the-Loop region asserts itself with condos and upscale businesses crammed into the abandoned shells of industrial structures. Lakefront property is claimed—not surprisingly—by the lake itself and the southern stretch of Lake Shore Drive. Eighteenth melts into a whimpering halt unnoticed.
There is, however, a single spot on interest. A length of Eighteenth stands upon old and sturdy pillars as it shifts from street to overpass. Trains thunder beneath it on tracks easily a century old. The trains, of course, are newer, though you can’t always tell by looking at them. Southward, they cross the span of a bridge held between monstrous, skeletal towers. Northward, they curve and cross the lowered blade of the city’s “Scissors.” The raised blade—like Eighteenth Street—is a ghost not yet cannibalized by the city’s relentless need to forget its past and equip its future with shopping malls and vast, black-top parking lots. From Eighteenth Street, I saw Chicago’s “Scissors” and the narrowed aspect of the only vertical lift railroad bridge along the familiar stretches of the Chicago River.
On a Saturday that began with clouds and ended with a flare of sunset, I saw something else. Ruined foundations: support pilings cut unevenly and left to rot in the salt-tinged elements. I saw huge, rectilinear gaps in gravel—the footprints of at least two enormous buildings. They are gone now, and all that remains of them are hollow lots, their ruined, cut pilings, and the vague sense that something lies beneath the ground.
I don’t believe in ghosts—not of the ectoplasmic, post-mortal species anyway—but I sense a presence whenever business or transit-shortcuts take me along a particular length of Eighteenth Street. On a particular Saturday that began with clouds and ended with a brilliant flare of sunset, I touched the fringes of that feeling as I saw ruined supports and the rectangular definition of interior spaces now exposed to the great, big outside. I imagined the shapes of old tombs, perhaps those belonging to the city’s first rulers—apocryphal kings guilty of acts that have since stricken their names from history. Their resting places remain as a refuge for rats and pigeons and gulls squabbling over scraps of offal, and their tombs—once buried beneath markers of industry—erode and degrade, though perhaps (on dark, quiet nights) thieves come to steal what meager treasures might be found.
In reality, there are no apocryphal kings—none in Chicago anyway—but I often think of these phantoms of mood as I cross the Eighteenth Street border between Chicago’s shimmering downtown core, and the rough-scrabble ruins of something few Chicagoans are aware of. Eighteenth Street is, if anything, a border—a semi-permeable membrane between the reality of Chicago and its glamorous image. And it is in this border space (not actually found on any map) that I can sense the presence of a history that Chicago has long forgotten…on purpose, perhaps. I won’t dig too deeply into that questionable region of local city lore, but I will wonder at it and craft my own stories, when the mood strikes me.
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As always, thank you for viewing and reading and commenting, and I hope your're all having a great week.
Comments (29)
Outstanding capture my friend.
Wonderful Urbanscape...and as always enjoy hearing your stories!
I love the digging. If there is a spot that you know has roots to the first screw turned in Chicago... We have Skid Road, or Skid Row to some. That very first spot. There just has to be romance there, that is, romance of discovery. Great piece!
I love the title, a contradiction in itself.
You might have also added, 'how the mighty have fallen'. Certainly this must have been some vital component of the city's (and perhaps the country's) economy once upon a time. Chicago once being the transportation nexus for all east-west travel in the US. This industry, protected by "competitive tax rates", law enforcement and political savvy. The land, perhaps the most valuable in the city, now sold for $1 (in 2010 dollars) to anyone who will promise to clean it up or perhaps just keep it from becoming even more of a blight. Like Chicago, Toronto has many such rotting skeletons which once held and nurtured nation corporations run by great family dynasties. Their names now disused and forgotten. You might see their faded 50's vintage logo skulking in the back of some old garage or barn these days. I love your weaving of both story and urban facts to enhance the mood of this photograph. The title Apocryphal Kings is very apt for this place was no doubt a kind of kingdom for a few short decades, perhaps one or two generations of men.
There may be no ghosts, but what of the Ka? ;) Super shot.
maybe the purple gang bury some people here and you felt they ghost presents here; they was around in the '20's; 100's die at they hands and no one went to jail for it . just a thought. i like to read on history and i going to see what happen on 18th street here
Bones.... building bones. And they look like the ones in the water around here, lots of pilings. Great shot and interesting musings!
I think these posts must be cousins to the ones I saw in Washington. They're just THERE, and at some point had a purpose.
Their height compared with that of the boats in the background suggests perhaps a wharf for unloading heavy cargo from barges in the past, or perhaps a railway barge.
Well, I clicked on your ebot first for a good read with my coffee, and I was not disappointed!
Yeah we can never know what has been before us :-) Awesome shot BTW :)
bonne photo!!
Very mood filled photo. Excellent!
borders!! I love borders!
great perspectibve of what you photographed! very interesting :)
Very nice shot - a great view.
You have magnificent powers of observation Chip, it always comes out in your writing, all of which is very interesting. Excellent photography, sharp and clear, very well done my friend. hugs Jane xx
i was really intrigued by the title, and even more by the postwork! another excellent piece of artwork!
What a wonderful mood you've created with image and words. I have this theory that all kings are apocryphal. Perhaps I've watched too much Monty Python. ("Oh, king, eh? Very nice. And how'd you get that, eh?") But that's another conversation for another time. (On the other hand, they all have to be buried SOMEwhere.) Perhaps I've just had a very long day and need a bit of sleep! I'm feeling a bit ... random. I love the transition point, the morphing of one thing into another thing, the subtle changes one upon another that create something quite different in the end. This is absolutely up to your usual excellent standard.
Excellent!
This is a wonderful image. It is hard to tell exactly what time period it is by the buildings in the background. I love the darkness and the mystery of the posts. It is like some secret being whispered by the wind. Love it!
Wonderful capture!
The kings are dead. Long live the Kings!
Great read! Wonderful capture, I think you captured 'spirit' in the image. This is somewhat reminiscent of the many 'ghost' towns that litter off beaten paths across our nation. Very thought provoking! One can nearly hear the footsteps of previous 'kings' and their courts. This reminds me very much of digs in Egypt and other places...perhaps because my mother was an antique dealer and went on 'digs' all across the USA to find traces of things left by pioneers etc. At any rate your writing and image gives me the same feeling that I had when I touched some of those old things...like a sasparilla bottle for instance...one can hear the voices of the patrons at the local bar where there were undoubtedly gun fights among other things. Ghosts of the past...
Are these the king's minions? They kind of look like a little army of foot soldiers. There's an understated energy to this picture where it looks like the "army' is about to shift from parade rest to battle stations. Great shot. Funny how I was standing right next to you and didn't even see this. I guess I was preoccupied with the crumbling building foundation nearby. Very nice capture.
How impressive and strange... the by-gones next to yacht harbour !
You have great feeling to keep genius loci. Great work!
I see why jock likes your work!!!