The bar-room was now full of the boarders who had been dropping in the night previous, and whom I had not as yet had a good look at. They were nearly all whalemen; chief mates, and second mates, and third mates, and sea carpenters, and sea coopers, and sea blacksmiths, and harpooneers, and ship keepers; a brown and brawny company, with bosky beards; an unshorn, shaggy set, all wearing monkey jackets for morning gowns.
Herman Melville, Moby Dick, Chapter V: Breakfast
Perhaps architectural photography is basically about moving furniture, once all the work is done. But we are tired of this and done with it. We are tired of telling people to move away. What we get is an empty, still and unreal architecture, lifeless and, now more than ever, shunning the irresistible urge for an unmediated experience of space.