Playlists curated by your favorite musicians and writers. by Brittany Howard, Kiese Laymon, Rosanne Cash, Kelsey Waldon, & others | Nov, 2020

An introduction to the Music Issue’s Icons Section Beyond my eye, beyond the death and decay of matters left behind and unsettled, the music ringing up above my head told a thousand stories of bounty and belonging, and it glimmered… by Danielle A. Jackson | Nov, 2020

An essay from the Greatest Hits Music Issue She traveled the world and left it scorched with her fearlessness and musical originality, inspired fierce devotion from an audience who thrilled to her enormous gifts and her personal excesses, and shook… by Rosanne Cash | Nov, 2020

Originally published in our 2001 Music Issue  “One night we were at the house getting ready to go to a concert later that evening, and it was just pouring down with rain, and thunder was cracking,” Peebles told the Memphis… by Andria Lisle | Nov, 2020

An essay from the Greatest Hits Music Issue Great Black music is that which isn’t trying to impress or entreat or even necessarily communicate with a white audience—or any audience. Instead, great Black music works to retrieve what Rahsaan Roland… by Harmony Holiday | Nov, 2020

Poachers are among a small group that have actually seen the flytrap in the wild, and Officer Gorchess thinks they know what they’re talking about. “The guys who actually take them probably know more about flytraps than ninety-nine percent of… by Joe Purtell. Photographs by Nina Riggio | Nov, 2020

An essay from the Greatest Hits Music Issue There was a moment in 1958 when the future of jazz took an extraordinary turn that would be imperceptible to the world for another quarter century. That’s when Ellis Marsalis Jr., freshly… by Gwen Thompkins | Nov, 2020

An introduction to the Greatest Hits Music Issue How does the South inform my music? How do I describe the sound that your bare feet make when they pat the cool, packed red dust under them? How do I describe… by Brittany Howard | Oct, 2020

Eyes on the South

Eyes on the South is curated by Jeff Rich. The weekly photography series features selections of current work from Southern artists or artists whose work concerns the South.


 

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

In a series of photographs documenting George Floyd’s memorial service in Raeford, North Carolina, Will Warasila interrogates the relationship between photographer and subject and the privilege inherent in the act of creating photographs.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

In his series Exodus Home, photographer Jay Simple explores ideas surrounding migration and the definition of home through self-portraiture, archival photographs, and sculptural installations.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Since Hurricane Katrina made landfall in 2005, Greiner has photographed the area around Baton Rouge for his series Land’s End, reimagining the landscape as a potential new coastline, a projection of what Louisiana might look like following another catastrophic storm or the long-term impacts of climate change.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Inspired by William Faulkner’s fictional setting of Yoknapatawpha County, Dason Pettit’s photographs capture an almost mythical, not quite fictional version of Oxford, Mississippi.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

With an eye on exploring the folklore of Appalachian culture, Riley Goodman’s From Yonder Wooded Hill captures “the vision and the values of the folk” of Appalachia, using artifacts and ephemera to create a visual narrative that challenges the boundaries of “historical truth.”

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

With a commitment to celebrating the people, landscapes, and beliefs that make the Sunshine State a captivating place, photographer Scott McIntyre has captured the curiosity and the wonder of Cassadaga, Florida, a small village known as the “Psychic Capital of the World.”

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Documenting a tradition unique to New Orleans, Brown captures the lively atmosphere of “masking” on parade day, with a particular focus on Big Chief Pierre “Monk” Boudreaux and his family. Ostrich plumes and intricate beadwork adorn the participants’ suits as they take to the streets on Mardi Gras.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

In her series New Orleans & the Levees, Karen Halverson alternates between bright, uninhibited portraits and stark industrial landscapes, capturing the inherent tension of living in a city that is always sinking and the extraordinary engineering measures taken to protect it.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Since its formation in 2012, the Bayou Corne sinkhole has become, as photographer Virginia Hanusik writes, “a symbol of industrial greed at the expense of the natural environment.”

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Shawne Brown’s project, Evening Land, features work that began over fifteen years ago as what the artist describes as an “apocryphal portrait” of the country from his home state of Tennessee and stretching across the American Bible Belt.

Concerned with inter-generational memory and trauma, photographer Adrian White has created a series of photographs documenting his family’s past and present, while imagining a better future.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Tamara Reynolds’s series, The Drake, documents with arresting clarity the community in and around the Drake Motel in Nashville, Tennessee, a city block populated by what she calls the “resentfully tolerated.”

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Eyes on the South curator Jeff Rich interviewed artist Alex Harris, whose series Our Strange New Land is the High Museum’s most recent Picturing the South commission. They were joined by the associate curator of photography at the museum, Gregory Harris, who worked closely with Alex on the exhibition.

In the latest installation for its Picturing the South project, Atlanta’s High Museum of Art presents Our Strange New Land: Photographs by Alex Harris. Taken over the course of two years and encompassing most of the South, Harris’s series documents independent film sets, exploring “how the region is seen, imagined, and created by contemporary visual storytellers.”

In an effort to manifest William Faulkner’s idea that “The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” Lake Roberson Newton’s project, Flowers for the Dead, examines the preservation of historical homes, exploring how previously private spaces are transformed for, and by, public consumption.

Interested in how the climate of the South “coalesces with the lifestyle and culture” of the region, Eric Ruby celebrates “light, color, heat, and haze,” in his project Leanen n’ Dreamen, exploring how these atmospheric elements inform a way of life in Tennessee, North Carolina, and Missouri.

In her ongoing project Love Is an Action Word, Liz Moskowitz documents “the transformative experience of equine therapy” among veterans and their families at the Broken Wheel Ranch Project in northeast Texas.

Meg Roussos’s Pseudo Night series, according to the artist, evokes “a constructed reflection” of her experience with long-distance hiking.

Taken in the months following Hurricane Michael’s landfall on the Florida panhandle, Ryan Burleson’s series You Can’t Go Home Again captures with striking clarity the destruction wrought by the Category 5 storm.

Richard Sexton’s forthcoming book, Enigmatic Stream: Industrial Landscapes of the Lower Mississippi River documents, in close to one hundred images spanning nearly twenty years of work, the role of industry along the riverbank.

“As the grandson of a well driller, I learned at an early age that water does not originate from a faucet, nor simply disappear after going down the drain.”

In anticipation of their annual gathering next month, we’ve partnered with SlowExposures, a “juried exhibition celebrating photography of the rural American South,” to curate this special edition of Eyes on the South.

In an ongoing series of startling black and white images, Andrew O’Brien captures landscapes along Stringer’s Ridge, a nature preserve near Chattanooga, Tennessee, and annotates them by overlaying pixelated dots, slashes, and abstract shapes to create otherworldly scenes.

In his series Palimpsests, film photographer Sean Crutchfield documents the places “where the past and present collide” in small-town Alabama, Georgia, and Florida.

In his series Sippi, Ty White documents the scenes off the rural backroads that make the Mississippi Delta distinct.

On Nochoway documents the efforts of photographer Anna Norton’s family to restore two hundred fifty acres of mismanaged woodlands to a sustainable ecosystem through controlled burning and the reintroduction of native species.

In his ongoing series I’m Right Here, Jake Harrison Miller explores his hometown of Knoxville, Tennessee, through thoughtful stills and surprising portraits of neighbors, family members, and strangers.

In Amanda Greene’s series, Humid and Tiresome, the artist delights in finding surprising objects in unexpected places.

For the poignant series Another Day in Paradise, Whitten Sabbatini captures quiet moments across the Hill Country of Tennessee, Mississippi, and Louisiana in his black and white landscapes and portraits.

Maury Gortemiller’s years-long project, Do the Priest in Different Voices, was inspired by his early memories of a family Bible. Enthralled by its illustrations, Gortemiller recalls that they “evoked both comfort and trepidation” and “moved me to contemplate the unseen.”

In his project, Piedmont, Graham Hamby comments on the cycle of land development—creation, disrepair, and abandonment—with photographs of painted murals, abandoned storefronts, and spare landscapes.

With painstaking clarity, Dalton captures scenes from Louisiana bayous, small-town Alabama, and urban centers of Texas, documenting a pervasive sense of isolation across the South and the hope that defies it.

Consisting of images of rushing streams, secluded lakes, and the structures that disrupt or contain these waterways, the Savannah River Basin Photographic Survey depicts water as both a vital resource and a recreational point of connection.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Strembicki photographed forty-four houses of worship in the Lower Ninth ward of New Orleans, then revisited them year after year, speaking with pastors, deacons, and members, recording the state of their church and its structures.

Based in Oxford, Mississippi, White has spent the past twenty years exploring reservoirs, and her project, Southern Oceans, relies on “photography’s potential to de-familiarize the harnessed water of enormous public-works projects, transforming them into newly imagined landscapes.”

In 2010 Ashley Jones began documenting the homes, businesses, and churches affected by the Earl T. Shinhoster Bridge on Interstate 16, one of Savannah’s “flyover” highway structures.

Viewed successively, Clay Maxwell Jordan’s project, Nothing’s Coming Soon, strives to “counterbalance images of death, mortality, and decay with those of grace and unmitigated beauty.”

Thinly populated, rich in tone, and defined by wide, flat spaces and structures, Paradise’s images display the peculiar mix of isolation and liveliness unique to Dorsa’s home state.

Sensing herself “growing damp and static,” Grace Ann Leadbeater left Florida in 2012, thrilled by her escape. But soon she began to recognize—and long for—the joys of the place she once begrudgingly called home.

Told though the hybrid means of diptychs, overlaid polaroids, archival materials, and more, Alec Kaus’s Haunts and Related Incidents creates a “nebulous yet self-contained constellation” of images inspired by the W.P.A. Georgia Writers Project collection.

Taken in moments of tranquil cohabitation rather than scenes of flooding and disaster, Virginia Hanusik’s photographs interrogate the commonplace existence of communities touched by South Louisiana’s struggle with sea-level rise. “Despite the uncertainty that rising seas and coastal erosion bring to the region,” Hanusik writes, “there is hope found in the history of building practices and land migration patterns that are responses to environmental change.”

In an homage to Victor Hugo Green’s The Negro Motorist Green Book—a guidebook first published in 1936 as a depository of safe spaces for African-American travelers—Sarah Hoskins set out to photograph these landmarks as they stand today.

Charles M. Lovell’s decade-long photo project traces the legendary second line parades of New Orleans.

In an attempt to “fuse New Orleans and Miami as metro jungles,” Erin Krall’s Tropiques Plastiques showcases the real and synthetic vegetation of those two cities, forming an unconventional portrait of the urban American tropics.

D. Gorton’s photos attempt to condense the social climate of the civil rights movement in the South, applying particular emphasis on the role of white women and their varying attitudes of support and resistance toward actions for equality and justice.

From the dressing room to the stage, Josseline Martinez’s images capture the scenes of intimacy and joy involved in the performances of Savannah-based drag troupe House of Gunt, documenting a night in the life of queens like Carmen iCandy, Xandra Ray, Treyla Trash, LaZanya Ontre, Vegina George, Edna Allan Hoe, and Influenza Mueller.

Photographer Matthew J. Brown’s project, New Developments, investigates the fluctuating story of land use in his home state of Tennessee, where agricultural regions have gradually given way to instances of retail and commercial real estate.

In a combination of materials—from municipal maps, to snapshots of demolition, to juxtaposed scenes of overpasses and children at play—Warwick aims to portray the challenging legacy of Old South Baton Rouge, while gesturing toward the strength and promise of its contemporary residents.

In these photographs compiled from various eateries throughout the South, Julian Castronovo isolates examples of colloquial architecture and interior shots of candid, tableside scenes, all of them unique yet linked, however loosely, by the Chinese-American dining experience.

Rosalind Fox Solomon’s Liberty Theater comes from a period of traveling throughout the South between the 1970’s and 1990’s, documenting the influence of discrimination from Alabama to Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina, and Tennessee.

Drawn initially to these images of displaced funeral bouquets as a distraction from his own grief, Joel Whitaker came to observe these abandoned flowers and sentimental ephemera as a necessary counterbalance to the somber etiquette of death, a reminder of the “impermanence of the original, well-planned, and ordered memorial.”

The stark and vulnerable images in Byan Schutmaat’s project, Good Goddamn, follow his close friend, Kris, in the final evenings leading up to a five-year prison sentence.

The images in Michael Wriston’s project, Ask and it Shall Be Given to You, traverse the often unseen, rural corners of Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina, capturing the stillness and vivid life of small towns, their residents, and the land that holds them.

For over a year and a half, on the southeast corner of Lake Okeechobee, Sofia Valiente has befriended, lived among and photographed the residents of Miracle Village, an intentional community of over one hundred convicted sex offenders.

In his striking interior and exterior glimpses of the funeral industry in the rural South, Timothy Hursley’s photos feature shots of errantly parked hearses, casket showrooms, ranks of carved granite, and portraits of rusted silos and warehouses that look, too, by nature of their juxtaposition, like rows of planted headstones.

In A Southern Myth, Yarbrough’s photos grapple with the persistent tropes, misconceptions, and pressures of belonging in the South, and assume a photographic language where “‘myth’ is used as a poetic device to narrate a struggle for both the artist and the region to maintain a sense of identity.”

Mangrove swamps occupy a vital role in the health of a coastline, particularly under the threat of increasingly powerful storms and rising seas. Inspired by his recollections of mangrove swamps while growing up on Florida’s Gulf Coast, Benjamin Dimmitt decided to revisit the shoreline, paying close attention to the unsuspected beauty and vitality of these resilient organisms.

In his predominately aerial photographs, Daniel Kariko evaluates the landscape of Florida’s many stalled residential developments, most of which were initiated and abandoned in the previous decade’s housing crisis.

In the stark, quiet images of Summer Time Boys, Alex Christopher Williams explores his understanding of black masculinity in America, communicating his own experience as a mixed race child.

Jeremiah Ariaz documents the longstanding tradition of black trail-riding clubs among Creole communities in South Louisiana, drawing from scenes of their rides to “depict joy, pride, and familial intimacy, particularly between fathers and sons who are taught to care for and ride horses from an early age.”

Richard Schramm captures the town of Enfield, North Carolina—a place that is currently “looking back so that it can look ahead.” Enfield has a rich agricultural history, but like many towns of its kind, mid-twentieth century mechanization upended the local economy. Today, Enfield is home to many abandoned storefronts and warehouses.

Elijah Barrett’s collection, Rockport, chronicles the weeks and months following the devastation of Hurricane Harvey. His photographs reveal the devastation enacted upon the landscape, and give insight into the lives of those who are now suspended in a state of wondering what comes next, and who are left to make sense of what happened.

In Scattered Feathers, Dason Pettit documents the probable extinction of the ivory-billed woodpecker, exploring the “persistent existential crisis” embodied by the search for this bird.

The photographs in Bryan Tarnowski’s The Wishbone aim to excavate the “fertile current of optimism” beneath the more obvious portrait of poverty in the Delta.

 

In Ponce City Market: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of Atlanta’s Largest Building, Blake Burton documents the transformation of the Sears, Roebuck & Company building in Atlanta into the newly restored Ponce City Market. Burton presents “behind-the-scenes views of one of the largest adaptive reuse projects in the country.” What began as “casual exploration soon morphed into a passionate desire to document the historic transformation of an architectural treasure.”

 

The Drake Equation explores a unique space in West Virginia—one that overlaps with the “National Radio Quiet Zone,” a 13,000-square-mile area where radio transmissions are heavily limited to allow for the investigation of extraterrestrial life by enormous telescopes and monitoring devices.

Ben Depp’s Bayou’s End is the result of three years “flying above the bayous and wetlands of southern Louisiana in a powered paraglider,” taking aerial photographs from thousands of feet above the ground. Depp spends hours at a time in the air, waiting for just the right moment to capture the “spaces where the geometric patterns of human enterprise—canals, oil platforms, pipelines and roads—collide with nature’s organic forms.”

The images in Ryan Steed’s Went Out for Cigarettes span four Southern states but are occupied by a common “physical and psychological landscape” shaped by the act of travel itself. Marked by the omnipresence of roadside signs and messages scrawled on windows and walls, Steed’s project is concerned with the witness and discovery inherent in any journey.

Tianran Qin’s Billboards transforms “billboards into bodies of light to enhance their existence and critique their significance in consumer culture.” By utilizing long-term exposure, Qin floods the billboards in his images with light, essentially erasing the individual advertisements they contain and instead rendering them shining icons of consumerism.

Peyton Fulford’s Infinite Tenderness explores notions “of intimacy and identity among the LGBTQ+ community in the American South.” Her images, which often depict young people in pairs or groups, and bodies in intimate poses of flux, suggest the vulnerability inherent in “growing up and identifying oneself.”

Isabelle Baldwin’s Sleepy Time Down South depicts a quiet “life protected by the mountains,” and embraces the wash of romantic nostalgia that sometimes colors childhood when we recollect it as adults. Inspired by Louis Armstrong’s 1930s track, “When It’s Sleepy Time Down South,” her photographs are sun-drenched and peaceful.

The images in Matthew Genitempo’s Jasper capture the faces, lives, and daily landscapes of men who have chosen to sequester themselves in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas and Missouri. Attuned to the allure of “running away from the every day,” Genitempo’s project occupies the hazy space “between fact and fiction.”

In Confederates in the Attic, Revisited, Kate Elizabeth Fowler revisits the landscapes of her childhood in an effort to make sense of the South’s “complicated relationship with history, revisionism, and romanticism.”

Bradley Marshall’s Hearing Through Walls is a photographic “exploration into American masculinity, lost youth, and domesticity.” The project often pairs the familiar with the unknown, involving childhood friends alongside relative strangers, and images of places to which Marshall has a deep personal attachment presented alongside photographs of new territory.

Rory Doyle’s Delta Quinceañera is “part of a larger body of work documenting Latino immigration in the rural Mississippi Delta over the last five years.” These images of a single Quinceañera, which shepherd the viewer from a Mass held in a young woman’s honor to a “dance party held in Cleveland, Mississippi’s local Army National Guard Armory,” convey the particular mix of grand, joyful celebration and deep, solemn importance that marks the transition from childhood to womanhood throughout Latin America.

Keith Dannemiller’s Wilson documents daily life in the small town of Wilson, North Carolina, as a means of exploring the idea of Home, that illusory place where one fully and completely belongs.

Brett Schenning’s Small Towns, Big Dreams examines the effects 2008’s Great Recession had on rural American communities. Schenning is interested in what was left behind when many families who had settled in small towns “looking for a quieter way of life” were forced to move closer to urban centers and the employment possibilities they offered, and his photographs focus, in part, on that absence.

Lucius A. Fontenot’s Mémoire de la Boue, which translates roughly to “memory of mud,” is a photographic investigation of the culture and traditions of Louisiana via depictions of the Courir de Mardi Gras and the boucherie.

The photographs in Morgan Ashcom’s What the Living Carry are situated in the fictional Southern town of Hoys Fork, a community inspired by the rural Virginia landscape of Ashcom’s childhood and by William Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County.

Ethan Tate’s photographs of Pine Bluff, Arkansas, reflect a complicated homecoming; Tate lived in the community when he was young and wasn’t entirely happy to return as an adult. He took long drives through the Delta as a way of re-acclimating to the place.

The photographs in Meghan Kirkwood’s Four Blocks in Chalmette were taken at four intervals within a four-block area of Chalmette, Louisiana between 2008 and 2017. Located east of the lower Ninth Ward, Chalmette sustained heavy flood damage during Hurricane Katrina. The neighborhood Kirkwood photographed, dense with rental properties, has been particularly slow to recover.

Devin Lunsford’s All the Place You’ve Got documents the changing landscape along Corridor X, a newly completed interstate project that connects Birmingham to Memphis through a once-remote part of northwest Alabama populated by desolate towns and shuttered coal mines.

Taken over the course of two consecutive summers, the photographs in Rosie Brock’s And Ever Shall Be explore the collision of economic depression and the familiar fantasy of the Southern county fair. A man in a Domino sugar t-shirt sits atop a white horse, a boy in a cowboy hat leans so close to the camera the rest of the world fades out of focus, and a woman, unsmiling, watches a carnival spectacle the viewer can’t see. Meanwhile the sun sets over empty train tracks and a carousel trailer, and the overall effect is at once hopeful and melancholic.

In Through Darkness to Light: Photographs Along the Underground Railroad Jeanine Michna-Bales recreates the long voyage north toward freedom as it might have looked through the eyes of a single individual “oftentimes carrying little more than the knowledge that moss grows on the north side of trees.” These photographs of unpeopled rural landscapes, taken almost exclusively under the cover of descending or ebbing darkness, contain a sense of both intimacy and mystery, conveying “how vast, strange, and forbidding these remote places must have felt to those making the journey” with an almost painful steadiness of vision.

Forks & Branches is an intimate meditation on the people and landscapes of Western North Carolina, where Aaron Canipe was raised. Tinted with a pervasive sense of loss and nostalgia, the project captures the particular poignancy of an adult returning to the geography of his childhood and reckoning with both his love for the place and a new understanding of its deep flaws, “hurt, detachment, and stubborn grace.”

In Myths of the Near Future Rob Stephenson considers the “Space Coast” of Florida after the closing of the Kennedy Space Center’s shuttle program. Interested both in documenting the very real economic struggles communities surrounding the Space Center have faced in the aftermath of the program’s end, and in exploring the “ambiguous realm between dream and reality, between past and future, nature and technology,” Stephenson’s photographs provide a portrait of a place suspended: “nostalgi[c] for the future as the promise of the Space Age slowly fades away.”

In the Edisto, Mathias Hungler photographs one of the longest free-flowing blackwater rivers in North America, capturing some of the most enchanting points along the river’s “two hundred fifty meandering miles.”

In Nausea, Ron Jude uses banal scenes of public schools to raise larger questions about the medium of narrative photography. The effect is “a world both familiar and uncanny, and imbued with a pervasive sense of unease.”

One of eight historic African-American neighborhoods in Raleigh, North Carolina, SE Raleigh was first settled more than 130 years ago. Once a hub for business, education, and cultural life, rising property taxes and increased rent have forced many people in the area to move out of their homes.

One month after Hurricane Harvey, Episcopal Priest Bertie Pearson visited Aransas Pass, Texas, to document the disaster. He found a city in ruins, as if it “had been lifted up and shaken, sending homes, boats, and trees flying in all directions.”

In Fair Bluff Evan Simko-Bednarski explores a North Carolina town “in danger of simply fading away,” struggling to recover from the damage caused by Hurricane Matthew in 2016. The flood and its destruction come after the one-two punch of the tobacco and textile industries crumbling in the 1990s. As one resident put it, “The town was dying. The hurricane just sped us up by ten or fifteen years.”

In That Land of Perfect Day is the culmination of Brandon Thibodeaux’s eight-year long residency in the towns of the northern Mississippi Delta, including the United States’ oldest completely African-American municipality, Mound Bayou. 

Frank Hamrick’s My face tastes like salt is a series of still lifes and landscape portraits taken in Georgia, Louisiana, and Tennessee. The work is meant to generate questions, allowing viewers the space to create their own stories. 

In The Pines Chuck Hemard photographs remnants of the longleaf pinelands to reflect on the significance of loss and beauty in our past, present, and future. Hemard offers a glimpse of what was once “an extraordinary biodiverse ecosystem, rivaling that of tropical rain forests” while also exploring the tension between human settlement, environmental progress, and the beauty of nature.

In The Seven Natural Wonders of Georgia, Caitlin Peterson explores the relationship between man and nature by drawing attention to the artificial elements of “the most wonderful natural places in all of Georgia.”

Tatum Shaw’s New Songs avoids any singular place of focus, creating instead a collection of dissonant hymns collected from across the South, Los Angeles, Portland, and New York City.

Glenn Hall’s DarkWater captures the changing biological and environmental landscape of the Ohio River Valley—and what may be a dying way of life.

Richard Max Gavrich’s Across the Brown River explores “memories of past fictions” in towns along the Mississippi River. Inspired by Flannery O’Connor’s obsession with place, Gavrich follows the river in search of the “ordinary and extra-ordinary.”

In Rabun, Jennifer Garza-Cuen photographs a community in northern Georgia, a place “steeped in the cultural specifics associated with both the Deep South and Appalachia.”

In Love Valley, Michaela O’Brien chronicles the lives and history of the people living in North Carolina’s “cowboy haven.”