The Weekly Photograph #02
A man in Kentucky
Entry #02 from The Work
Danny and his Dog, 2020
pigment print
size variable
As I drove north through Eastern Kentucky’s winding valleys, the sky began to darken into a twilight blue and I continued to scan the many roads winding off into the isolated hollers for something to photograph. My work is not finished until I reach exhaustion of mind, body and finally, light. At some point, the road I was on linked up with a set of railroad tracks. They began running parallel to one another. Tracks are always a good omen, so I followed them. Their presence ensures something is nearby, either a small town or some kind of interesting landscape element.
I followed the tracks farther and began to see the glint of rail around a curve, the tell-tale sign — in America — of a nearby gas station, shop, or approaching train. I turned right to cross over the tracks and saw a presence sitting across from the railway and a small tan animal next to them. In the reflective glow of the warm twilight, the two figures stood out boldly against the dense forest behind. The abstract appearance of the figures was, at first, frightening and it intrigued me to investigate further.
As I got closer, I parked my car and approached the figures who at this point I could see was a man, and his little dog. He remained in the same manner of sitting as when I saw him from afar; exactly how they appear in the photograph, seemingly unmovable with a fixed gaze and remarkable countenance.
Danny was facing West, and I was rushed as ever to make the photograph because the waning soft and warm twilight suited the two beings so well. Carrying my handheld Mamiya TLR camera to introduce myself, I broke the ice by asking him if trains ran through here frequently. I honestly can’t remember his answer about the trains, because my excited mind had already moved ahead to asking him if I could take his portrait and I was already previsualizing making the photograph with my larger 8x10 view camera. I was expecting a firm no but after explaining my intent he gifted me a gentle “okay”.
Two minutes later I had gone back to my car, grabbed my 8x10 camera and film holders, walked back to where Danny was sitting with his Dog and began setting up the camera. The entire time, Danny remained in the same position as when I discovered him; it was hard to not question his ability to remain statuesque. He had no problem staying still for the second long exposure.
I felt a certain duty to give back for what he gave me, so I drove him home that night. He told me about his father who was a real mountain man. He took my card and said he would ask his father if I could visit him there, in the mountain holler where I dropped him off that night. I’m still waiting to hear back.
-John Sanderson, New York City
This image was created thanks to the Kentucky Documentary Photography Project which commissioned me to travel and photograph the Commonwealth of Kentucky for the entire month of April.
You can learn more about the Kentucky Documentary Photography Project here.
See my Kentucky Commission images here.
Journal introduction from The Work
The American landscape in my time. Thousands upon thousands of miles traversed in search of pictures.
They become pictures when I see something.
Something which cannot be explained in words, only related to on some level of empathy.
Feeling with the light, subject or an arrangement of the two.
Driving, walking, searching deeper and longer for that which eludes me.
What I search for is unattainable.
But what keeps me coming back is the Quest, for those moments where a picture lines up with my imagination.
It is a complete circle.
"To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield." -Tennyson