In 1978 at age 21, photographer Lisa McCord began capturing her grandparents’ cotton farm located in the South of rural Arkansas, 50 miles north of Memphis, and along the Mississippi River. The passing of time has a way of adding context and layers of meaning to any story, and Lisa’s expansive and nuanced project and book, ‘Rotan Switch’, (Kehrer Verlag, out May 2024) reflects the dedication of over 40 years of observation and documentation of her rural southern family farm and community.
A fine art and documentary photographer from the Arkansas Delta, who lives and works in Los Angeles and Arkansas, Lisa’ work and creative practice explores concepts of storytelling, memory, and the passage of time.
The captivating series includes analog photographs, family snapshots and ephemera, monochrome photographs, color polaroids, and recipes, all combining to give the viewer a unique window into a deeply personal exploration of the definitions home and community, race and industry. The photographs include images of herself, her family, the farmworkers, and caretakers to whom she grew close and shared her life, and the land itself.
In her essay for the book Lisa considers how her images provide both a glimpse of life into this particular time and place, and also exist within the context of some of the aggregate cultural and social factors unique to the rural South.
She expands on this shifting awareness within herself as she grew further into adulthood and writes eloquently about the historical and personal complexities present in both the images themselves, but also in the act of being able to photograph and document in this way.
In a press release, she notes, “These photographs are complicated; they exist in the context of the socioeconomic structures of the rural South. Although the subjects are family to me, as a white photographer and the granddaughter of a landowner, my photographs of the Black community implicate my own role in reinforcing these power structures. In a community in which most people spend their time working or caring for children, my ability to observe and document in itself has been a position of privilege.”
The book also provides different insights and angles to this discussion through essays by several other luminaries in the photography field. Alexa Dilworth, former publishing director and senior editor at the Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University, was also born and raised in the South and in her essay, she touches on this unique perspective and the considerations it implies.
This body of work is significant in that it was created by a woman and shows the depth and closeness of the relationships existing between Lisa and the women on the other side of the camera.
“This collection of photographs is distinct in that it is made by a woman in the company of other women in private spaces,” notes Alexa.
At once both a personal and collective view into the evolving socio-political landscape of life in the rural American South, ‘Rotan Switch’ is a timely and compelling project that enables the reader to understand this reality through the lens of Lisa’s lived experience. Given her willingness to be vulnerable about her family’s history and share how her own learnings have been impacted by the Black community she grew up alongside, we had the chance to speak with Lisa about her new photo book and what she wants people to feel after seeing her images and stories.
What made you begin taking photos for this book, at age 21? Did you know back then it would become the project it is today?
I love being around others and have always been naturally drawn to photographing people. I started making photographs at Rotan when I was 21. At that time, I had no intention of building a conceptually complex body of work with the pictures that I made; I was taking photographs of the people and places around me. It wasn’t until studying photography with Linda Connor that I began to see the images as a group that worked together to visually describe the community in which I grew up. Under Aline Smithson’s mentorship, I began to incorporate text into the work.
The book showcases images over the past 40 years. When compiling all the images, were there any photos or moments that stood out to you, or held some potent memories?
Most of the images in ‘Rotan Switch’ hold potent memories for me, not because they capture notable events but because they reflect the ordinary moments that made up the very fabric of our daily lives on the farm. There are certain pictures, like A Humid Day or Frances with Child that immediately resonated with me and have always been key images in the series. However, the process of making this book has led me to revisit my archive and rediscover other moments that have become really dear to me.
One that comes to mind is the image Cully in Garden, which shows the woman who cared for me as a child in the garden behind our home; that garden was tended by generations of women in my family and holds a lot of meaning for me.
In the introductions you explain how the symbol of the railroad switch “remains a potent symbol of the complex intersections of industry and agriculture, of racism and injustice”. What kinds of messages do you want your images to convey with these topics in mind?
I felt it was very important to foreground the issues of inequality that existed on the farm and in the Delta in ‘Rotan Switch’ and acknowledge my position of privilege in that system. I was not thinking about those things when I began making photographs, and opening my eyes to that reality has been an ongoing process over many years that continues today.
I have a little bit of a hard time defining ‘Rotan Switch’ in terms of conveying a specific message because I don’t want to position myself or the work as a voice of authority in any way; ‘Rotan Switch’ is simply an offering from an imperfect witness to a painful history that is still unfolding. I hope that the realities reflected in these images can make a positive contribution to where things go from here.
You talk about how the people you photographed and featured taught you the meaning of the word “home”. What is home to you, and how do you define it today?
After forty years, I have come to realize the photographs taken at Rotan are an exploration of home. I’ve lived in many places both as a child and as an adult, but my idea of home remains firmly rooted in the Arkansas land and people. As we all know, nothing is permanent. Most of the people no longer live on the farm and have moved into nearby towns; we’ve sold our family home, and some of my most dear friends have passed. My definition of home is a place where I feel peace, where I’m free to be myself and pursue the things in life that bring me joy.
As a photographer, what is the process of ensuring your subjects give their consent, and that they are represented in the way they approve?
I think the relationship between a photographer and the people they photograph is always a tender one that requires an immense amount of trust. Some of the people represented in my pictures, like Frances and Cully, passed away long before I started thinking of Rotan Switch as a body of work I might share with others; however, that profound level of trust is still the bedrock of those images.
Their children and grandchildren, with whom I have continued close relationships, participate in the work as well. I always bring them prints of the photographs I make of them and their relatives, so they see every image before it’s published. I’ve also had open conversations with them about being photographed and what it means to them, some of which I have included in the book.
What were some of the things you remember about your grandparents’ cotton farm growing up, that you hoped to showcase in this book?
I remember my mother, my grandmother and Cully taking care of us children, feeding us homemade hot potato soup when we were ill. I photographed Cully looking over my nephew, Gabriel, when he was a baby, showing how much she cared for all of us children. I have memories of the railroad track, and the sounds of the train that shook the house at night. The photograph of Cully and I sewing shows the closeness and intimacy that was shared between us.
Granddaddy sitting at his large desk reminds me of how we grandchildren would rummage through the drawers looking for treasures. The image titled Dad and Bagpiper at Grandmother Brucie’s Funeral brings to mind the generosity of my father’s heart and how he attended the service that was my mother’s side of the family even though they had been divorced since I was ten. Ultimately, I hope these photographs showcase the love and tenderness that was between us.
In today’s cultural and political climate where there is so much backlash and regression over the history of racism being taught in American schools, banning books and include this subject matter, and disdain for diversity initiatives, how do you hope Rotan Switch will speak into this moment, and what will your photographs say to this climate?
I think these conversations are more important than ever, and I am humbled by the thought that the stories told in ‘Rotan Switch’ could offer a meaningful contribution. But again, all I can offer is a glimpse into the events unfolding around me at the time, knowing that I am an imperfect witness that isn’t necessarily equipped to speak with any authority on the things that are recorded. I think it’s more important to elevate the artists of color who are speaking to this moment, because those are the voices we need to follow.
Can you talk more about documenting the lives of women especially, and being invited into these private spaces?
I’m not sure I was conscious of it when I was making the pictures, but looking back I can sense an intimacy in the photographs I took of other women that really reflects how comfortable we were with each other in these domestic spaces. Most of the women’s responsibilities of daily life take place in the home- cooking, cleaning, and caring for children- so these spaces naturally became the backdrop to a lot of our interactions.
What do you think are some of the most misunderstood ideas about rural life in the South, and how do you hope your book will dismantle these?
I don’t think of this book as an attempt to dismantle any misconceptions about the rural South. It offers a specific insight into a specific community- in some ways it may stand in contrast to common perceptions of the region and in other ways it may reveal those perceptions as being true.
You can order a copy of ‘Rotan Switch’ HERE, see more of Lisa McCord’s photography on her website, and follow her on Instagram.
