Transient Identities: Self-Portraits in Motel Rooms Across the United States
There is a particular stillness to be found in the transient spaces of the American landscape—the nondescript motel rooms that serve as temporary sanctuaries for the nomadic spirit. Over the past five years, my travels across the United States have become more than just a search for new vistas; they have become a dedicated study of the body within these fleeting, utilitarian environments. I believe the human form is meant to be shared and seen, liberated from the concealment of everyday life. These self-portraits are not merely documentation of a traveler’s rest; they are a deliberate, theatrical interaction with the energy of each room, an exploration of vulnerability, and an ongoing experiment in making the temporary feel permanent through the lens.
The Art of the Transient Space
While the images in this grid are captured in a single moment, the process of arriving at these compositions is a complex negotiation with the environment. Every hotel or motel room acts as both a stage and an obstacle. I often find that the bed—that massive, immovable centerpiece—demands the most creative energy. It commands so much of the room’s real estate that it forces me to work with it or around it, often leading to the most interesting compositional puzzles.
My approach to these spaces varies as much as the locations themselves. Sometimes, I plan my wardrobe meticulously, selecting colors to contrast with the room’s inherent palette. Other times, in a simpler, budget-conscious room, I opt for the stripped-back simplicity of plain underwear. I am constantly experimenting with the room’s own architecture: using sheer curtains to create silhouettes, finding icebag liners to serve as impromptu masks, or reconfiguring the existing lamps to sculpt light across my form. These items—a telephone, a pillow, a chair—become props in a dialogue between the traveler and the room.
The technical execution is as varied as the inspiration. There are times when I am driven to set up my Nikon and tripod for a deliberate, serious study. Other times, when the muse is quieter, I rely on my cell phone and a compact flip stand that I carry everywhere—a reminder that the work must happen, regardless of the tools at hand.
I admit that the timing is often a challenge; I am frequently too exhausted to shoot upon arrival, and by the next day, the bed inevitably loses its pristine quality—a testament to the transient nature of the space. While there might be a certain charm in an unmade bed, I have yet to embrace that particular aesthetic.
For those interested in exploring the more intimate, nude studies captured within these spaces, you can view that portion of my work on my Model Society Page.