Welcome to an Austin, Texas tradition: What’s Vanishing Next? My blog devoted to my adoration—via photographs and history—of Austin’s many landmarks, is moving here to Pairings.
Like so many of the iconic Austin businesses we cherish, my Vanishing Austin blog is not vanishing—it’s moving on. Its new home will be among related articles about the obvious, and not so obvious, pairings that occur among art, photography, creativity and life, and of course, Austin.
Follow What’s Vanishing Next? HERE.
Find the Vanishing Austin collection HERE.
Find the Art + Austin collection HERE.
Find the Endangered Species of Austin poster HERE.
Read a little background to the series HERE.
Since What’s Vanishing Next? launched six years ago, with the story you see below, much more than mere Austin landmarks has become endangered. Our attitudes towards the city so many of us wistfully recall have changed, moved along by the startling growth curve we’re on. Change is inevitable, and often it’s really terrific. It’s just tough to digest so much change, so suddenly, when our treasures and our way of life are at stake. And our city’s personality seems to be undergoing the most radical transformation of all.
Is Your Austin Vanishing?
Published on April 30, 2008
Soon a bland corporate hotel chain revered the world over for its predictability will stand in place of this textural, colorfully cheeky block of individuality, replacing the contrasts of angles and styles and skies that exist now along Congress and 2nd. A corporate logo stamped on countless buildings will take the place of the gaudy vibrancy of Tesoros and the Joseph’s mural and will cast its own lengthy shadows on the sparkling Frost Tower.
That’s Austin, Vanishing.
What’s next? Post your concerns for what’s uniquely-Austin, yet poised for visual mediocrity–when you fear your favorite bit of Austin eye-candy is about to be overtaken by bland new development, comment here.
I’ve been photographing the visual derring-do that is Austin’s homegrown architectural charm in my Vanishing Austin series since 2004. I’ve got 40 images to date, many juxtaposing the old against the new; and sadly, many more in the photography pipeline to go. Your thoughts about this series, and your suggestions for places you’d like to see honored in the series, are welcomed here.
In six years, the Vanishing Austin collection of images has grown from 40 to more than 99, and apathy about what’s vanishing has grown . . . exponentially. But our delight in our city’s delights has not faltered one iota. Today I think more of my photographs as Austin Landmarks, and they are just as beloved whether thriving, endangered or completely vanished.
This isn’t to say we should lament the Austin of old, and bemoan our losses. After all, that’s a fool’s game. Not much to be done about what’s already done.
But we can plan well and wisely for our future, by reflecting upon what has been, and remains, the very best of Austin. That is my wish for all of us who live in and love Austin, whether we’re old-timers or the latest arrivals. We all love what we’ve got here, losses and changes and warts and all. May we be good stewards going forward. ♦
The Vanishing Austin series continues here:
You can find all articles that originally appeared in What’s Vanishing Next? in the Vanishing Austin section, with new stories, too.
You’ll find new stories about pairing art with its natural complements in the Art + Austin section.
What’s vanished since this blog began? More than a few Austin landmarks—35, in fact
Have you missed these 35 Austin landmarks that have vanished?
SHOP FOR PRINTS of 99+ images from the Vanishing Austin photo series by Jann Alexander at VanishingAustin.com.
BUY THE POSTER of some 16 of Austin’s icons, called the Endangered Species of Austin.
- How the Vanishing Austin project began
- More articles in Vanishing Austin blog series
- What does it take to vanish?
Get in touch for more detailed information about custom prints, trade discounts, and assignments:
Yes, I was especially upset when the food trailer park on Congress closed down. I find myself disconnecting immediately when I hear something like that, because it’s just too sad. It’s good that you take pictures of everything before it goes.
Thanks, Barbara, I think so many of us feel the same way. After doing this for about a decade, I sense more apathy towards the phenom than in the past. The newcomers don’t come for the same things. It’s inevitable, of course. But it has happened so fast.
Wonderful photos and post!
Thanks again. Might it lure you back here for a visit? And a glass of wine?