Set entirely within his father's house, Andrew D. McClees’ Avalanche unfolds into an atmosphere of nocturnal claustrophobia, where tightly cropped photographs transform ordinary interiors into a fragmented psychological landscape. Returning to the home he left after adolescence, McClees draws from memories of isolation, neglect, and depersonalization without ever settling into straightforward autobiography. Instead, through visual construction, he abstracts the domestic space into an immersive environment where reality and fabrication quietly dissolve into one another, creating an interior world that functions less as a document than as a site of psychological confrontation and reenactment. The viewer, in turn, is drawn into this unstable terrain, navigating a world suspended between familiarity and estrangement, where seemingly ordinary rooms gradually give way to an atmosphere of latent tension. Printed with silver ink on black paper, the photographs seem to exude an inner glow, deepening the book's otherworldly atmosphere and its unsettling sense of disorientation. Andrew D. McClees (b. 1992, Lewiston, ME) is a conceptual artist working in photography. He lives and works in Portland, ME. His work uses self as template to investigate topics and areas relevant to his life: rites of passage, systemic decline, and photography itself. The images he makes cut a line between careful observation and discursive constructions, recorded using a hard edged and unsparing viewpoint. Avalanche is McClees’s first published trade edition book.