Rory Doyle is a photographer based in Cleveland, Mississippi. Rory’s photographs have been published in the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Guardian, the Wall Street Journal, Huffington Post, NBC, and others. Recently, working for New York Times in partnership with Mississippi Today, Doyle photographed “Unfettered Power: Mississippi Sheriffs,” an investigation project named a finalist for the 2024 Pulitzer Prize for Local Reporting. You can see more of Rory's work on Instagram.
The Citizens’ Institute on Rural Design (CIRD) engaged Rory to document their time working with community members in Grenada, Mississippi, through CIRD’s local design workshop focused on Grenada’s Chakchiuma Swamp. The photography featured in this story was taken by Rory Doyle while he was on site for the 2024 Spring Wings event in Grenada.
CIRD caught up with Rory to talk about rural development, his approach to photojournalism, Alan Lomax, and amplifying rural storytelling.
CIRD: In working with the Citizens’ Institute on Rural Design and community leaders, like Robin Whitfield from Friends of the Chakchiuma Swamp, what stories or observations emerge for you out of that experience?
RD: I really was impressed by how many people showed up to experience the activities in the swamp as well as during the CIRD workshop community input sessions, where people really showed up to express their opinions, their concerns, and their support for some of these proposals and opportunities to think about Grenada through design. From a photographic standpoint it was amazing to see so many people in the room during the CIRD workshop and to see so many people in the swamp. The swamp itself is such a beautiful place and Robin with her team put years of hard work into protecting it. They created such an inclusive space, diverse space, walking distance from downtown Grenada and accessible to all. That was special to see that opportunity and amenity exists in a place as remote and rural as Grenada.
CIRD: Wild places in such close proximity to where people live, work, and go about their days…Some may even argue that places like that can only really exist in rural areas.
RD: Yeah, I agree. Being based in rural America, it is really nice to see organizations that come from out of state, or even national organizations such as CIRD, that do care about places that are often overlooked and underserved. And then to come into a small-town with the recognition of how significant community-building is in a place where resources are scarce. Ultimately, I think it's also a story of hope. It's a story of progress. And for me? It's a nice change from some of the darker topics that I will also cover for news cycles. Robin is a prime example of a leader, a community figure who gets work done with boots on the ground, by organizing community members to help her achieve many things…It takes people like her in small towns to make progress.
CIRD: Robin is a pretty massive agent of change.
RD: Absolutely. In many rural places if you don't have one of these key figures, whether it's one person or a small group of people, that are committing their life to catalyzing changes and pushing for progress, as I said, a lot of times, unfortunately, these towns fizzle and fade. It takes people like her to start movement and create change.
CIRD: Recently, you’ve done a lot of photojournalistic work—a mode in which narrative, or sometimes many narratives, are often discovered through both single frames but also the sequencing and succession of many shots. How do you approach the medium such that narrative is just a result of shooting photos, rather than something you’re contriving to construct?
RD: It's a really important question in the sense that there are different ways to work as a photojournalist. Some photographers spend their entire career photographing breaking news or event coverage. Particularly in politics, for example, you are going from one campaign rally to the next and it's a little bit different than a longform, storytelling photo essay.
The bulk of the work that I do is a combination of longform projects, storytelling where I am with a particular subject matter, person, or group for days at a time. I guess in general I would say I work a little bit slower pace than somebody who is covering breaking news. Of course, I still must be very timely with how I'm working. Time along with what I have access to is a big part of the question of narrative when I'm photographing. More so, how much time do I have to build trust with my subjects, how can I relate to people so that I can shoot their stories? When I'm photographing people I follow the golden rule, “do unto others as you would want done unto you,” and I feel that recipe has worked for me in my career in order to build real intimacy and to gain trust with the people I'm photographing. I'm grateful for that. It is a privilege. In a sense my work is just an opportunity to meet and connect with people. And it's something that I'm passionate about. And through that passion and intimacy, narrative, that is the stories that people are telling through my photos, simply emerge.
CIRD: In order to build this trust, find connection and vulnerability, does it mean that you are spending time in communities on assignment and not photographing? In other words, it sounds like so much of the work is just being an empathetic person and meeting people where they are, and I'm curious if that ever means putting the camera away and allowing yourself to be immersed in a moment or even disarm a tense situation, even if it means not capturing ‘everything’?
RD: Absolutely. Particularly when I'm first meeting people, I very rarely point the camera before I've had a discussion with someone. I want to make sure that we've connected on a human level before it becomes a photographic exchange. There are other times, again going back to breaking news where time is of the essence, so that's not always the case. But the majority of the work I do gives me that opportunity to connect with people a bit more deeply. And when you're working on longform storytelling, then you really have the opportunity to put the camera down and get to know someone beyond a small, short period of time that amounts to what I call a “photographic exchange”. It's a blessing to have this as a career and get to know so many people and try to do justice to telling their stories.
CIRD: Yes, absolutely. This is a nice segway into our next question on the efficacy and impact of this kind of work. On an assignment like the CIRD workshop in Grenada, you're working closely with people like Robin, as well as other community leaders, taking part in work that aspires to use design as a tool for sustained, stable, economic development. Does that impact the way you think of creative pursuits more broadly, or perhaps even see a way that your creative practice as a photographer can spur rural development? I was curious if you had some perspective on how your practice has had a positive impact on the place you live and in the communities in which you work.
RD: I feel a sense of purpose here [in the Mississippi Delta] where there are not many storytellers, and I would feel that sense of purpose exists for other photographers and writers and storytellers who approach things creatively across the country, particularly in rural areas where newspapers are being cut, photographers are being cut, positions that support the production and sharing out of rural life simply don't exist anymore. In my line of work, I feel very lucky that I've managed to carve out this career where I can shine some light on stories that otherwise might not be told and I think that those voices are important, especially because they are underprivileged or from ‘forgotten areas’.
CIRD: In a sense, your work and those of people like you are actively returning places to the map, by amplifying voices that otherwise go unheard. Moreover, it’s almost an effort of making sure places exist in the wider American imagination, documenting rurality as it exists and that otherwise would not be documented. In a way it reminds me of the work of Alan Lomax, the ethnomusicologist, who went around the Delta with a reel-to-reel tape and recorded the blues. Through both the willingness of the musicians to play and sing, and Alan’s recordings, we now have a record of this very special cultural heritage, a heritage that it could be argued contributed much to a sense of American national identity. In this sense, there's something valuable about focusing your creative practice on the stories you record and the places you document, because you are using photography to make place.
RD: Yeah, I agree.
CIRD: On the subject of recording and documentation, we can acknowledge that no recording is objective. With that admission, how does your subjectivity influence the way that you document, what you document, and how does your perspective affect the way that you shoot or approach stories?
RD: I try to approach everyone with an open mind and an open heart. I want to do justice to their stories in the most honest, sensitive, and respectful ways — again, keeping the Golden Rule at the forefront. I think that shapes my work every day, and it has throughout my career. I feel grateful that I've been able to provide some sort of service in an area that is underserved, and I’m grateful that the community has provided me with the trust to do that.
Percentage-wise, Mississippi also has the largest African American population [in the United States], and a lot of the work I do is focused on the black community. As a white man, who grew up in the much less diverse state of Maine, it has been a privilege to connect with the black community and help share their stories.
