American Landscapes and 21st Century Americans evolved from random shoots into a project
showcasing the uneasy intimacy of rural America—an America that uneasily coexists with the
endless contradictions of urbanization, despite their long and tangled shared history.
Over the past 7 years, I set out across the Midwest, the high plains, and the mid-Pacific coast.
I also managed to capture a fleeting New York City moment.
My companion was a Subaru Outback that carried me along rural U.S. highways, state and
county roads, local streets, and off-roads tracing the U.S.–Mexico border.
Across all of it, one theme recurred: an unrepentant patriotism on open display,
irrespective of geography or demographics.
The American flag—or any rendition of it—appeared again and again as an unrelenting icon that
justified “the spirit of the time” and a “contemporary ethos,” encouraging grand interventions
and reinforcing myths that have undermined collective security in rural America. History shows
how often the flag has been used as a rallying cry for unity while simultaneously subjugating
memory, clouding purpose, and obscuring responsibility for the conditions on the ground. It has
become, perhaps unwittingly, an anodyne for the pain poverty has inflicted on rural America for
over 250 years. Symbols often carry unintended consequences.
Despite their sacrifices and pride, rural Americans have been historically anesthetized,
discouraged from questioning the deeper myths that animate the rallying cries of special
interests. In this way, the flag persists as a rigid, unrelenting paradox—both a patriotic upshot
and a hardened commitment to country. Evidence of this is scattered across the countryside:
random and organized, proudly hoisted, well-dressed stars and stripes.