Old buildings can be considered “time machines.” They may function in the present, but they can simultaneously convey the essence of another time. The art deco Luhrs Tower, built in downtown Phoenix in 1929, was one of the city’s first skyscrapers. (Pbase photographer Alain Lucier describes its external appearance, as viewed from Patriot Square Park. See it by clicking on the thumbnail at the end of this caption.) I chose to photograph its small but evocative wood, brass, and marble lobby, suggesting the presence of the ghosts that should be riding its elevators and walking its halls. I made this photograph on a weekend, which proved both a blessing and a curse. I was glad that there was nobody around to inject the present into the mood of the past here. On the other hand, the building was closed and the front door locked. I had to make this image by pressing my lens up to the windowpane on that front door, decidedly limiting my vantage point. Using my spot meter, I underexposed the scene to stress the shine on the brass mailbox with its glistening mail chute, an incongruous anachronism in our era of email. The ornate elevator doors seem to glow – we can imagine the uniformed men who must have operated them in the 1930s and 40s. The stairs leading to the lobby are dimly seen – suggesting, perhaps, the phantom footsteps that may spring to the imagination when we look at this scene. The great depression began the same year this glorious lobby was built. The Luhrs Tower still speaks of that time in this place.