For the last few years, I have been going to difficult and dangerous countries to photograph humanity and life, to try to bring the world closer together. But I never thought that I would end up in just as precarious of situations in my own country — even in my own state.I took every precaution possible and ventured out into the Northwest to capture iconic moments in recent weeks. This took me from North Idaho to Seattle, where I was able to photograph Pike’s Place, the Gum Wall, and a few other places completely devoid of people. It was so strange, as I am usually used to the hustle and bustle of people being my white noise while going through those areas.
But at 5:30 pm on a Saturday, I found myself completely alone in one of the busiest areas of the city. In one of the biggest cities in the United States. The only movement was from a few homeless people who were shuffling between buildings, binding together and carrying on as usual.
I realized I very well might never see this situation for the rest of my life.
And that, to me, was one of the strangest parts of this experience. It felt like a zombie apocalypse had happened and the few people who had made it through unscathed didn’t know if it was safe to act like I existed. It was easier to just look forward and walk briskly past, not even making a moment of eye contact. I understood why they did this, but for those moments, it felt like I was a ghost walking the streets. Everything felt like people had just vanished and you could still feel just a little bit of the energy in the walls that remained.
Scenic landscapes were completely still and silent. Not even a car could be heard in the far distance. Construction zones were abandoned, cranes sitting there like the workers had run home when a news bulletin came over the radio. No police could be seen on the streets. And every “open” sign was turned off indefinitely.♦
See more of Adam Schluter's work, including his book The World I See.