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7 hours ago
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My first trip photographing Americans was in 2015, when I drove 8,000 miles across the country on a Harley-Davidson. I’d spent too long caught up in assignments and wanted to take some time off from commercial and editorial work to follow my own creative urges. America offered an opportunity to explore a landscape I didn’t know, and was far enough away from my home in the Netherlands to ensure it wouldn’t be easy for me to just go back if things got difficult.
I think Europeans often don’t understand how tough life in America can be. I wanted to show real, underrepresented people who are just trying to survive, while also drawing attention to how rich their lives can be. At a time when people seem increasingly polarised in their views, my images seek to challenge the assumptions that often divide people, and to focus on the common experiences that connect us.
This picture is from a more recent series, American, which I undertook with my husband between 2022 and 2024. Again, I took portraits of people we encountered while driving from state to state and we also recorded interviews and documented their stories on film. I spotted Derek and Quentin from our car as we were driving through Elkhart, Indiana. They were wearing hoodies and their faces were hidden. I don’t know what it is that attracts me to people, it’s just this gut feeling – I see certain people and feel I need to talk to and observe them.
So I jumped out of the car and ran towards them. I said something like: “Hey, are you brothers?” They said: “Yeah, yeah.” But they were not really looking at me. I told them I was a photographer and film-maker from Amsterdam, and when they heard the word “Amsterdam” they were suddenly interested. I discovered they were 29-year-old twins who lived nearby in a tent, in woodland behind a friend’s trailer home.
These boys had never learned how to have a “normal” life – how to organise everything, show up to a job, all the basic things. Their mom has a severe mental health condition and never stays in the same place for long and their dad died of an overdose a couple of years ago. Their grandma had taken care of them until they left and started living on the streets. But they have each other, and if you asked them, they would say they had a good childhood. This was where they felt at ease and wanted to live.
If you didn’t know their story, you could look at this picture and think they are maybe runners or cyclists. Then you see the tattoos – Quentin, on the left, has a little star under his eye. Their skin is white where it’s been covered by T-shirts but their necks and forearms are tanned, and the colour of their skin and hair is echoed by the orange flowers in the background. They’re also unconsciously mirroring one another in the way they’re holding their hands. There’s so much going on in this picture that it’s a little confusing. But because of that, you keep staring, and that, for me, is a way to break something open – people who see this photograph are curious and always want to know more about these boys.
I use a medium format camera because I love capturing the texture of people’s skin and hair, and the twins were fascinated by that and the other tech we were using – the film camera and sound equipment. They’re really into machines and electronics. You can see in their gaze that they’re communicating with me, their posture is open. That’s how I like to approach these portraits – they’re a collaborative process. I love being in that moment where the subject is as completely focused on me as I’m focused on them and we’re reacting to one another.
Even when my work exhausts me, it’s not something I can just park, or detach myself from. I always say that through my photography, I’ve created my own family. Just like Randy, who I formed a close bond with on that first trip across America and still speak to daily, I’ve stayed in regular contact with Derek and Quentin. They are very dear to me.
