Abandoned General Store Currie Nevada Black And White | Limited Edition of 10
Weathered Storefront Beneath Open Nevada Skies
I photographed this abandoned general store in Currie, Nevada, as a straightforward record of a place that appears almost emptied of its original purpose. The building sits alone beneath an enormous western sky, its weathered siding, shaded porch, worn entrance, dark windows, and prominent Pepsi sign carrying much of the visual weight. An empty paved foreground leads directly toward the storefront, while smaller wooden buildings stretch across the background beneath low, barren hills.
Black and white strips the scene down to structure, texture, light, and scale. The bright clapboard siding pushes against the darker porch and doorway, while large cumulus clouds scatter across the sky in almost every direction. A mature tree crowds the left edge of the frame, and utility poles and wires cross the open space overhead. Those ordinary details matter to me. They keep the photograph grounded in a real place rather than turning it into an idealized western scene, which is one of the qualities I look for in ghost town wall art.
I made this photograph on location in Currie, drawn to the contrast between the modest scale of the old store and the extraordinary amount of open landscape surrounding it. The Pepsi sign is especially difficult to ignore. Still fixed high on the facade, it becomes a recognizable remnant of everyday commercial life above a storefront that now appears closed and silent. Behind it, the row of small weathered structures extends the story beyond a single abandoned building and gives the photograph a stronger sense of an entire settlement receding into the landscape.
The composition has a distinctly rural American character without needing embellishment: aged wood, an empty roadway, utility lines, simple architecture, dry ground, distant hills, and a sky that occupies nearly half the frame. I can see this photograph working particularly well in contemporary rustic interiors, restrained industrial spaces, offices, studies, or collections built around Americana, abandoned architecture, the American West, and disappearing roadside places.
This photograph is offered as a limited edition of only 10 prints. Each print is personally signed and accompanied by a certificate of authenticity, then produced with archival pigment inks on premium archival paper for lasting presentation and tonal detail.
For collectors who respond to weathered storefronts, rural communities, and places that seem suspended between use and abandonment, this photograph also belongs naturally within my small town photography.
© Dan Kosmayer, 2022
Limited Edition of 10
This photograph is released as a signed and numbered limited edition of only 10 prints in total across all available sizes combined—not 10 prints in each size.
Every size is drawn from the same edition. Whether the photograph is purchased as a small print or at the largest available size, it uses one of the 10 edition numbers.
I personally sign and number each print on the reverse, and every print is accompanied by a signed Certificate of Authenticity recording its title, dimensions, medium, edition number, and date of issue.
Once all 10 prints have been sold, the edition will be permanently closed. No additional numbered editions of the photograph will be produced in another size or format.
Premium Archival Fine Art Prints
I personally produce every photograph using archival pigment inks on premium archival paper with a subtle luster finish.
The paper provides rich tonal depth, excellent fine-detail reproduction, and a refined surface that reduces distracting glare under normal indoor lighting. It is especially well suited to both color and black-and-white photography.
Each photograph is sold as an unframed fine art print, allowing it to be framed according to the collector’s space and personal style.
Before a print leaves my studio, I carefully inspect it for color, tonal accuracy, surface quality, and overall presentation. Nothing is outsourced, and every finished print passes through my hands.