Sarah Stellino
Can you introduce yourself and what role has photography played in your own self discovery?
I’m Sarah Stellino, and I’m a queer photographer who is based in the Midwest of the US. Photography has given me permission to really think deeply about myself and those around me. I’ve always been fascinated with people and the rich inner lives we all experience - our thoughts, motivations, values, dreams, insecurities. To me, these things are what truly make up a person, and we rarely share it with those around us. More than anything, I feel like photography has given me the opportunity to explore my own queerness as well. Being a very shy person, it’s given me the ability to meet and have deep discussions with other people about their own queerness and how it relates to life as a whole.
How has your experience working on farms has led to your project ‘Queering Rural Spaces,’ focusing on LGBTQIA+ folks who occupy rural spaces.
When I lived on a farm, I wasn’t completely transparent about my identity as a queer woman. Having moved away from the farm for some years, as I was thinking about where my wife and I would settle down, I missed the routine of farm chores - feeding the chickens, collecting eggs, having a large garden. But I wasn’t really sure I would feel entirely safe being in an openly gay relationship in a rural area. Would our neighbors be accepting, or at least tolerant?
At the same time, seeing the photographic community’s obvious love affair with small town America made me think if those photographers ever stop to think about the inherent privilege they have to be able to explore those small towns. Do people of color, queer people, disabled people have those same opportunities? Would they be welcomed with open arms the same as some of the white straight photographers who wander into these areas? In thinking about who was truly welcome in small town America, I really wanted to learn from the queer people who were already there, and who already called these places home. What have their experiences been like? Do they feel safe? Do they feel fulfilled living on a farm in such a rural area? How do you find your own sense of community here? Every person I talk to in every area has their own experiences and answers, and I really think it’s important to share their stories.
How have your conversations with those you photograph led them to feel comfortable being photographed by you?
I’m always very cognizant of the power dynamics between a photographer, and the person they are photographing. I want to form a connection with the people I photograph because I don’t want them to feel like I’m interested in them only as a subject - I’m interested in who they are as a person. I don’t ever want my taking a portrait of someone to feel transactional. My personality doesn’t lend itself well to the superficial, and I would rather have deep conversations than a fleeting interaction. I think that having these conversations before taking someone’s portrait translates into these almost imperceptible emotions that come across in their gaze, or simply the way they are taking up space. You can feel the depth of the person because at that moment they are considering and embodying the complexities of who they are.
I think it is interesting you began documenting a community that you didn’t think existed in rural spaces. While working on ‘Queering Rural Spaces’ have you found that those you photographed felt a similar reluctance as you did prior to moving to a rural area?
I didn't necessarily think the LGBTQIA+ community didn’t exist in rural spaces. I knew that they did exist, because I was a queer person in those rural spaces for a while. I felt more so that this world wasn’t easily seen by outsiders, or visible in mainstream culture. So, my intention is not to create work that has never been done, but to add more and collaborate amongst other queer creators to give more of a visible presence to rural queer folks. To find the subjects of my photos, I have had the most luck reaching out on social media. I reach out to queer farming groups looking for people who are open to sharing their stories with me and willing to sit for a portrait. While the portrait is very important, it’s the story that really brings depth to photograph. It’s been a really formative experience for me personally to see total strangers be so gracious with themselves and their time.
Everyone’s experiences are so different, but it seems that while not all of them had reluctance moving to a rural area, a good few of them didn’t feel safe or supported in their community in a larger city. This obviously isn’t true for everyone that I’ve photographed so far. So the overarching theme that I have found is that finding a community that supports and nourishes LGBTQIA+ individuals and their identity as a whole is a journey full of trials and tribulations no matter where you are - rural or urban.
As you research farms, how have the conversations you have had with those you have photographed opened up new opportunities? How has this project grown and how do you anticipate it growing in the future?
The conversations I've had with people I've photographed so far have in some cases led to more opportunities with other rural queer farmers, but most often we are too engrossed in our own discussions about their experiences living in rural areas. Sometimes as we chat we discover that I've met with and photographed people they are familiar with in the greater social media community of rural queer farmers. As I've continued in exploring how this portrait series will take shape, it's been easy to get caught up in the technical aspects of the process. I've become more familiar with other formats and processes for making photographs, and I would love to incorporate those into my workflow. With enough time and resources, I'd like to take a few road trips to the various areas of the coast of the US to try and make sure there is representation from different geographical areas. Through it all, I just continue to try and stay focused on sharing the stories that I am interested in hearing, and let the rest work itself out in the end.
Have you encountered pushback against your identity and if so how has it influenced your process?
Being white, straight passing, and middle class, I have not experienced a lot of push back against my identity. I recognize that these privileges have kept me protected from a lot of the pushback that I could receive. However, in the last few years have I begun to really explore and celebrate my queerness and have allowed myself to sink into who I really am as a person. As I started questioning certain limits I had set for myself, I found that I was trying to shove myself into a box that I did not fully fit into. Now that my identity is in the forefront of my mind, I am really motivated to talk to other queer folks and find out how they have navigated expressing their own identities in the world at large, too.
What advice might you give someone who feels hesitant to publicly explore their identity through their photography?
It does take courage to put your true self into the public eye, or even in front of your own lens. Vulnerability in your own work can mean many different things to many different people. In my own work, I've found that learning about other people's identities and experiences has helped me to make sense of my own. There are other photographers who go about learning about and exploring themselves by engaging in self portraiture. Everyone engages with themselves differently, so honor what feels right to you in the moment.
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