I visited the Appalachian mountains for the first time in my mid-20s, after deciding I needed to get away from my inner circle in Sweden to find my way into photography. I felt I had to be by myself, just responding to things happening around me and not thinking about my daily life.
America played a big part in my family history, and the Appalachians called to me in particular because at that time, around 2006, I’d been listening to a lot of bluegrass music. I wanted to get closer to people who lived in the place where it originated – music has always been a big inspiration for me. While driving in the mountains with no particular destination in mind, I met a social worker who told me: “Whatever you do, don’t go to St Charles.” She said something about it being too dangerous, which made me curious.
At one time, St Charles in Virginia, was a booming town serving 10 coal mines. Now, all but one of the mines, Bonny Blue, has shut down, along with all the stores and bars. I stayed in a small motel and photographed everyone I encountered with my medium-format analogue camera, or knocked on people’s doors asking if I could photograph them. One family I got to know well were the Taylors, particularly the three siblings Laken, Josh and Derrick, who at the time were something like 14, 15 and 16. I felt really comfortable around those kids and their parents. I spent Thanksgiving at their place, and Laken and I have stayed in contact ever since.
Intimacy is important when I photograph people – I need that feeling of connection, and I try to be open and vulnerable. That means the people I photograph stay with me, and for 20 years the people of St Charles have been deeply rooted in my consciousness.
I always imagined I’d return sooner than I did, but stuff happened. I had children of my own and got caught up in other photo projects. But during the past three years, I’ve visited St Charles several times, and this photograph was taken on one of those trips. The boy’s name is Carter – he’s Derrick’s son, and I’ve also got to know his mother, Makayla.
A group of us would go walking up in the mountains looking for ginseng. I was very struck and inspired by how free the Taylor family’s kids are. They would run around and look for snakes underneath stones. They’re not afraid of them, even though rattlesnakes and copperheads live in that region. I don’t think Carter’s snake was a poisonous one – he just picked it up and carried it around. Derrick had taught him how to do that, although Carter was sad when he wasn’t allowed to bring it home.
One thing I see when I photograph in St Charles is people’s love for the mountains, which are like their backbone. They’re really bound to nature. I try to capture that, and to reveal the inner selves of people through finely tuned details. I think I also mirror myself when I photograph – by describing the lives of others, I tell something about my own life and longings.
I’ve realised a lot of my projects circle around themes of social structures, time and memory. When I look at this picture of Carter, there is a sense of heritage because I can see his parents in him, and of course my first book includes photographs of his father when he was young. The picture is from a new series I’m making, The Wild Horses at Bonny Blue. Last year, while staying with the Taylors, I went running and encountered a group of horses protected by a white stallion. When I tried to approach them, they ran away. Laken explained that someone in the town once released some horses that have multiplied and become a mountain herd, which come down when they need more food. With their strong bonds, those horses reminded me of the Taylor family – living wildly and simply, close to nature.
Hannah Modigh’s CV
Born Stockholm, 1980
High point: “Hillbilly Heroin, Honey won the Swedish photo book of the year prize in 2010, which gave me validation to continue. Plus the Prix Pictet nomination for Hurricane Season, and accompanying exhibition at the V&A in London this year”
Top tip: “Collaborate with people you have fun with and respect”
