Inside the lost labyrinth of the world's biggest sugar factory: Incredible images of Brooklyn's Domino Sugar Refinery before it was destroyed

A photographer has revealed the remains of what was once the biggest sugar factory in the world in a stunning new photo series taken prior to it being demolished.

Paul Raphaelson, from New York City, was the last person to photograph inside the landmark Domino Sugar Refinery site in Brooklyn after it spent the past 150 years as the largest factory before its closure in 2004.

Mr Raphaelson said: ''I'd always been intrigued by the enormous refinery on the skyline. But it didn't fit directly with any of my projects. Then I started photographing empty industrial interiors. I was trying to combine the pictures of these empty spaces with text.

The Domino Sugar Refinery site in Brooklyn was the world's largest sugar factory for several decades

Paul Raphaelson, from New York City, was the last person to photograph inside the landmark building

Hundreds of old and rusting pipes form a mass of machinery inside the factory, which shut down in 2006

A fenced landing attached to the enormous factory gives spectacular views across the city and skyline of New York 

The machinery inside the factory is slowly wearing as it has not been touched for almost 10 years. The building has since been demolished

A rusted and worn wooden door with a sign warning of electrical dangers sits unused on the sugar factory site

The huge industrial plant towered above the river for more than 150 years and was considered the largest sugar factory in the world

'Shortly after starting this, I read that Domino had been purchased and was going to be demolished. This gave a sense of urgency, so I started researching how to get access.'

He then spent nearly over a year trying to contact the developer, 2 Trees, about gaining access to the site before the redevelopment.

Just as he had almost given up, the developer contacted him saying he would be one of very few and the last person to be allowed in.

He said: 'Over the years when the refinery was being neglected, a lot of photographers snuck in. But by the time I started inquiring, it was in possession of a real estate developer with serious plans. They took everything seriously, including security and public relations. So I had to ask.

'I got permission after nearly a year of writing emails. As it turns out, I was one of many photographers who had been pestering them. They did this at considerable risk of liability, so my hat's off to them for inviting us.

'After my day of photographing-the most intense day I've spent with a camera - it was clear that the refinery deserved much more attention. But I suspected that the developer would only grant more access if I could show them a plan worth backing.'

Following his first visit in August 2013, Mr Raphaelson was allowed back to the Domino Sugar Refinery for a whole week after bringing together a proposal that would combine his photos with history of the site for a book.

Mr Raphaelson said: 'After sketching some ideas, I reached out to Stella Kramer, a Pulitzer Prize-winning photography editor with a lot of book experience, and Matthew Postal, an architectural historian who wrote the original preservation report on Domino.

Following his visit in 2013, Mr Raphaelson decided to propse creating a book using his photos and a history of the site

Rusted steel pipes and walkways dominate the busy interior of the building, where it once processed more than half of America's sugar

Huge tanks that once held mountains of sugar can be seen slowly falling apart inside one of the factory's abandoned storage rooms

Huge pipes hang low from the ceiling while pumps and gauges used to refine the sugar lie rusting and neglecting inside a processing room

Even everyday objects such as ladders were left on the factory floor, as seen in this photo taken by Mr Raphaelson last year

'They both said yes, and together we made a presentation to the developer. This got me a full additional week to photograph the whole place. They needed me to hurry up and finish, because the demolition was already underway.'

His week-long shoot became a bigger challenge than the experienced photographer and artist was expecting.

Not only did he have to contend with numerous pipes and filthy conditions in the abandoned site, but his experience in climbing mountains even came into play as he attempted to climb on the surroundings as well as rusty ladders.

Mr Raphaelson added: 'Lots of dangers, lots of challenges. In retrospect I'm a little stunned that they let me in unattended. There's a near infinity of ways a person could get hurt in there. Low-hanging pipes and equipment everywhere to bang your head on, every surface greasy with molasses, rusted ladders and catwalks, warning signs with all the paint missing.

'Fortunately I have experience climbing technical routes in mountains. I have a helmet and headlamp, and I'm in the habit of testing all my handholds and footholds, even when tired. And I'm used to hanging out in high places, staying focused, and thinking hard about not dropping anything.

'Still, I was nervous about making dumb mistakes toward the end of long days. This was an intense project-a lot of concentration, a lot of ground to cover, and a lot of up and down stairs and ladders with heavy gear. By the end of each day I was spent, and this is when it's easy to get stupid. Happily, I had no problems. Not even any damaged equipment, which was one of my worries.'

Many of the buildings in the complex, which dates from 1882, were given landmark status in 2007.

Now much of the site has been demolished since the fall of 2014 with redevelopment plans to build apartments, a park and more.

Mr Raphaelson said he struggled to reconcile his quiet surroundings with what would have once been a deafeningly loud factory

Mr Raphaelson also hopes to convince some workers from Domino to share their stories of working at the site for his upcoming book

Mr Raphaelson is now working on finishing the project, which will include his photos, history and his own personal essay.

He is also looking to convince some more workers from Domino to share their stories of working at the site.

Mr Raphaelson said: 'I was overwhelmed and awe-struck by the place. I'd really never seen anything like it. The scale and the visual density were just mind-blowing. And the technical complexity - the thought that at some point in recent history, there were people who knew what each of these valves and gauges and buttons and pipes and pumps did.

'And that all of this stuff was actually working around the clock, and that I'd eaten cookies as a kid with sugar that had passed through this place. I was also struck by the profound differences between the place as I experienced it and the ways it must have felt as a working refinery. There are steam pipes and pumps and huge machines, with hearing protection warning signs everywhere. You could see that it was burning hot 24 hours a day, and literally deafening.

'But for me the place was as quiet as a church. The only noises besides mine were from the wind blowing through open or missing windows; also various chains and cables and ropes creaking in the wind, and the occasional drip from roof leaks and puddles of sugar water. And it was cold.'

Mr Raphaelson is currently running a Kickstarter campaign to complete the book, which is called 'Sweet Ruin: The Brooklyn Domino Sugar Refinery'.

A huge hall, where hundreds of workers once earned a living, lies empty inside the massive abandoned factory

From below, the factory formed a formidable building which was a throwback to the New York's industrial history