Yes, he had a pretty ingenious way of blocking up the one working door so it couldn't be opened from the outside... which meant that when it was all in place, he was inside the building.
Most have a musty smell that you could catch in a breeze nearby, which gets stronger as you approach the structure. Different buildings have varying odors - depends on many factors (ventilation, mold, chemicals, etc).
To me, this completely barren ward actually reveals something about the place - some kind of truth of what this hospital really consisted of when it was built. I can't imagine much being different in this scene 100 years ago, in 1906, except for some furnishings and of course the residents and staff. This photo captures the "bones" of the building, so to speak. I also enjoy the composition, color, and repetition, and the photo can be cropped to various screen formats without suffering too much.
There is a barrel arch in the foremost space, then it turns flat in the rear hallway - an interesting transition.
I don't speak anything fluently other than English. I can eek my way through a bit of German and Spanish, but very barely. I hope to set aside some time to broaden my lingual capabilities.
It is a mixed-use facility these days (university, municipal offices, etc), but yes I think a few hundred patients still live here as well - although it no longer officially functions as a psychiatric hospital.
The door is very small; I had to crouch through the opening to get to the hallway. The remnants of a full size door can be seen through the plaster.
So the only normal way in was from the outside. Could have been last used as a sterilization room or some other patient-restricted area, where daily supplies were passed through the small opening.
This area was most likely the central chapel originally; the wall on the right seems like a later addition. With some heavy curtains and a small projector this room could have been a theater for the disabled soldiers staying at the hospital when it was last in use.
I think the proximity and size of the state hospitals can be explained just by the fact that they served one of the largest cities in the world - New York.
Stress was placed on a peaceful farm life as a part of the recovery process during the early years of psychiatric care in the U.S., and so the city was not an optimal place to care for the mentally ill. The once rural areas of Long Island and upstate New York were perfect places to construct these remote institutions within quick reach via road and especially rail - a lifeline for the tons of coal that needed to be burned for power.
When you account for the large populations at the state hospitals in Long Island, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Bronx and in the Hudson Valley, it is quite astounding.