Lens of compassion: Robin de Puy's photography series reframes the American story

What makes an American? It's a question a lot of people have been pondering on a deeper level recently. But Robin de Puy has been thinking about it a little longer than most.

A decade ago, the Dutch photographer and filmmaker embarked on an ambitious journey to capture the essence of American identity. Now, her new book, American, emerges as a powerful counternarrative to oversimplified views of what it means to be American today.

It all began in 2015 when she rode 8,000 miles on a motorcycle through America. "I captured the people I met during this trip, and I published my first book about the country If This Is True," she explains. During that journey, I laid the foundation for many of my contacts, including my connection with Randy, for example." Randy became the title of her second book, which she released in 2017.

Negative perceptions

Over time, broader themes started to settle in her mind. "I noticed that the perception of America became increasingly negative, which was a great contrast to my connections," Robin explains. "I partly understand this; I get the frustration and outrage regarding, for instance, the politics in America. However, my love for the people I had met over the years remained strong, some of whom even feel like family."

Consequently, she felt a strong urge to share her love and appreciation for them. "You can't lump all Americans together," she points out. "The project emerged from this thought. Who lives in America? Who are we talking about when we refer to 'the American'?

Her approach to creating it has been remarkably organic, guided by intuition rather than agenda. "I found people everywhere: at gas stations, in supermarkets, on the streets, in motels where I stayed," she explains. I see someone and almost immediately feel a deep desire to talk to that person. That gut feeling is always my first 'reason'.

"After that, it's a matter of figuring out why I feel drawn to someone," she continues. "Everyone has a story, but which story resonates with me? In a certain way, I strongly believe that we unconsciously always search for recognition for not being 'alone'. At least, that's how it feels for me."

By following this instinct, she's captured stories as diverse as America itself: from the magic shop owner in Michigan still chasing miracles to a young biologist-in-the-making who believes in "killer cats" and a Sikh family forging their American Dream in Muscoda, Wisconsin. Each encounter sheds light on universal human experiences in extraordinary personal contexts.

Creative Process

Robin's process is deeply rooted in ethical consideration and mutual trust. "I believe it always comes down to transparency and truly seeing someone for who they are," she emphasises. "I can only create something beautiful, something respectful if the other person trusts me, and I believe that can only happen if they notice, see, and feel that I am genuinely interested."

This commitment to authenticity extends to her handling of difficult themes. Yet, while she acknowledges America's struggles with poverty, healthcare access and economic inequality, she also resists reducing her subjects to their circumstances.

"People are often reduced to poverty while they are so much more," she explains. "In my work, I always try to find something human, something universal, in which we can recognise ourselves."

Deeper understanding

In a particularly poetic touch, photographs from American have been displayed on billboards along Nevada's Route 50, known as 'the loneliest road in America'.

"Normally, a photo ends up in a gallery or in a museum – which is, of course, fantastic," says Robin. "But that is often also a place where many people do not go. I wanted to find a public space, such as outside along the road. I find Route 50 incredibly beautiful. I visit it very often because one of my dear friends, Randy, lives along this road. So it seemed to me a wonderful metaphor to unite the portrayed individuals through their photos there."

Ultimately, the project's aim transcends mere documentation. In our current climate of quick judgments and polarised opinions, Robin hopes her work can foster deeper understanding. "If someone sees one of my videos [positively], I hope the next time they encounter someone who looks different from themselves, who lives or acts differently, they also look with an open mind," she says.

In other words, American is far more than just a collection of photographs and stories—it's an invitation to see America through a lens of compassion and curiosity. Through Robin's careful curation of intimate moments and personal narratives, we're reminded that the American story cannot be reduced to simple stereotypes or political divisions.

Instead, it's a complex tapestry of individual lives, each contributing their own thread to the larger narrative of what it means to be American today.