Within Crewdson’s body of work, An Eclipse of Moths (2018-19), we again encounter the artist’s fascination with the idea of a haunted American landscape. Set in post-industrial small-town America, An Eclipse of Moths tours viewers through the quiet wreckage of rusted and downtrodden working-class environments.

More than his previous work, feelings of emptiness pervade these pictures as the visual space depicts broad expanses of asphalt and concrete that appear neglected and forgotten. While Crewdson often uses human gesture to convey the deep-rooted anxieties that appear throughout his oeuvre, here the landscapes themselves become the subjects while their occupants perform as part of the environment, succumbing to it, and becoming defined by it.

As with all Crewdson’s work, we experience encounters with secrets that we aren’t allowed to know. The artist provides us surfaces that are charged with dark emotional energy, and it is up to us as viewers to speculate on what resides behind it all while answers remain just slightly beyond our grasp.