"ALL CITY": Coming back from the airport one night, I saw this building with a bulldozer beside it. I guessed it was about to be demolished, went home, traded luggage for camera, and drove back. The next day, the building was gone.

SHADES OF PAINTERS Edward Hopper and Richard Estes, shadows of an empty road, echoes of a Springsteen song, smells of smokestacks and decaying trash - these are the experiences evoked by George Ciardi's night photographs of Seattle's industrial legacy, a project he calls "Artificial Daylight." Through their haunting light and stark content, they bring into view a landscape of mood, implication and possibility.

"NERO": I waited months for the right conditions to get this shot of the Rainier Brewery. I was looking for a situation where the sky was overcast and the wind was shifting, causing the steam from the stacks on the roof to wave back and forth; that gave me the round corona effect. I finally got it only two weeks before the brewery closed and the neon red R was extinguished.

The buildings in "Standing in the Dark" will soon be demolished for a large Federal Express distribution center. The structure on the right is called Seattle Stair. The owner, Shawn Christman, had me return to photograph the place inside and out; he's been there his whole working life and is being forced to move. I'm drawn back to this site repeatedly because of the endless possibilities in this complex of old buildings; I'll be really sad to see it go.

Viewers pausing in front of the shot entitled "Standing in the Dark," for example, will find themselves alone in a setting eerily empty, yet somehow warm - inviting rather than threatening. On the left, a low industrial building's wood framing is burnished beige, while on the right and directly ahead, structures glow in almost-iridescent blues. In the distance, a white-lit window seems to beckon, but shadows spread to either side.

"What's interesting in people's responses is the way they stop and stare," Ciardi says. "It's as if they're wondering, what am I really seeing? What's down this alley in `Standing in the Dark?'

"I do the same thing," he laughs, "and I even took the pictures."

Although his photos show no people, Ciardi's images are rife with human traces: trash cans, rusted hulks, spouting steam and the insinuating invitations of alleys and windows. The photos, all shot between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m., also document the way urban landscapes, like people, change.

Driving with Ciardi along Seattle's abused Duwamish, we find that his surreal blue-green "Metal Pond" has vanished beneath sandy fill.

In South Park, he pulls his blue Toyota over into the dimness and jumps out. "Do you remember the shot, 'Do Not Block Gate?' with a building" - he gestures at a scramble of structures behind a fence - "that had a boat on top of it? It stood right in front of that tank. Now it's gone."

The most familiar of his transformed locations is the site of "Nero," where a photo taken from the rear displays a reddish sprawl - the neon of the old Rainier Brewery's R - behind a grim, pale facade. Its successor, an emerald Tully's T, "does not have the same potential for a shot," Ciardi explains, pointing to the sign shining after midnight at the back of the building. "The light is too high and the color is too green."

For each photograph, Ciardi stages an intricate dance involving light, time and a 1980 Canon F1 35 mm camera. "The most amazing thing about time exposures is this idea that you're looking at two or three minutes compressed into a frame that is viewed instantly."

The self-taught photographer's minimal equipment includes an umbrella duct-taped to his tripod for protection on chilly, drizzly nights. "Those are the best conditions to shoot. I like it when thick clouds reflect the street lights and block out the moon and stars." Ciardi works only with found objects and lighting because "it keeps everything more utilitarian." He creates his art "in camera" since he has no darkroom. "I make sure I control everything through the shot so the printing process doesn't alter the work." Titles are intended to be both "playful and to preserve a kind of generic quality. I avoid identifying signs whenever possible," he says, adding that towing-company warnings pose a challenge, "ruining more possibilities than any other problem."

"Metal Pond" was shot at a sand and gravel company during a storm. The glowing edge of the pond was only possible when it was raining because the ground was porous; without a continuous source of water, the light would not have reflected as strongly. The salmon sky comes from the lights around the Duwamish, which was right behind the site.

Ciardi's depiction of industrial sites is informed by an insider's experience as well as an artist's eye.

"My father has a metal-plating company in a blue-collar suburb of Boston," he says. "I've been working in or around factories most of my life." Since moving to Seattle in 1986, his jobs have included nine years with Scott Paper (now Kimberly Clark) in Everett. He currently works for ENA Couriers of Seattle.

"Driving for this job, I started to see all kinds of places to shoot. I keep a notebook with me to write them down, then come back at night."

Industry for what it is, night for its power, geometry for its form, and light for its effect - these are the elements that come together in "Artificial Daylight."

Writer Sharon Elise Dunn teaches at Woodinville Montessori School and conducts summer writing workshops for young people.

Seeing More

George Ciardi's work is on display in Seattle at Colorgraphics, 1421 S. Dean St.; Circa restaurant, 2605 California Ave. S.W., and Fine Impressions Gallery, 8003 Fifth Ave. N.E. His Web site is www.artificialdaylight.com.