RURAL RECORD: Matthew Walton
Ben Ashby
RURAL RECORD
Matthew Walton has set out to document the rural landscapes of the midsouth with @theruralrecord. His images tell timely stories of the past and future of America’s heartland.
I GREW UP IN POCAHONTAS, ARKANSAS, a town of about 7,000. It sits on the Black River in the Northeast region of the state. It’s an interesting location, as it shows an immediate transition from flat, farm land to the birth of the Ozark foothills. Twelve years ago, I moved to Jonesboro, AR, the most populated town in the region (just under 70,000), and work with an advertising production company. Many of the communities that surround both of these places have populations around a few hundred, if that. Needless to say, I’ve lived my life in a rural environment.
The Rural Record project started by accident, organically, or whatever you want to call it. I’ve worked with many agricultural companies throughout the years and, through that experience, I’ve visited many farms that dot the rural landscape throughout the state, especially in the delta. Early in 2019,
I started to go through hard drives of personal images and began to see a pattern. Because of the experiences I’ve had, I was naturally drawn to the personality of these smaller towns. Looking to focus my personal photography a bit more, I decided to start being more purposeful in documenting these rural communities that surround me, sharing a realistic, yet maybe romanticized, view of these places.
There are certain traits to every town that are unique, and some that share the same fabric of life. Some buildings I photograph are landmarks while others are overlooked structures that blend into the everyday lives of the people who live and work around them. All of these have a story, whether apparent or even imagined. I’m drawn to the structures and scenes that seem to sit, stuck between eras. Many of them have had their heyday, but now stand empty or with their last inhabitants. Even so, they are still part of the local landscape and deserve to be recorded in this state of existence. And that’s the essence of The Rural Record and rural life in general. 50 years ago, almost half of the population was involved in agriculture in some form or fashion. Today only 2% of the population works in this field. That is evident in these small towns.
Towns that used to be epicenters of life in the otherwise middle of nowhere are now almost empty and being overtaken by the elements that surround them. It’s a life that is quickly being forgotten, but still hanging on. It’s a generational thing. Family farms that have a rich history are still functioning, using the latest technology while still residing in towns (and places between towns) that are barely inhabited. That’s one of the special attributes of the rural landscape. You can be somewhere and nowhere at the same time. Wide, open landscapes roll out in front of you with no one in sight for miles.
The Rural Way of Life—though what we see out our back doors is different, I would assume people in rural and urban environments share much in common. We have our shared technology, educational resources, and individual goals that we’re trying to obtain. In this age, we’re connected like no other time in history. That being said, the environment does play a large part in differentiating our lives.
Those that work in the fields or with cattle and other livestock may be a bit more in-tune with the land around them. The weather is something that makes or breaks an entire crop and potentially an entire livelihood. Faith is also a big part of life around here. When you realize you can’t control nature, but see the brilliance of the way life grows from seed to harvest and calf to maturity, you have a good sense that it’s not all up to chance.
People in these parts are often hilariously depicted as a bit slow, especially in the way they talk. And while, there are some folks who do tend to draw out their conversations,
I know many whose minds are racing a hundred miles an hour and are some of the most brilliant people I’ve ever encountered. Of course, there are also people who will spit out a conversation faster than a podcast on double speed.
So, just like everywhere else in the world, there’s a mixture of personalities and quirks that make people special. We may not have access to every form of art and entertainment, business, restaurant experience, etc., but we have our own special blend of hospitality and hard work.
The Rural Record is made for local people to see their towns and everyday life in a special light. When I post certain images, I get comments from people loving that their grandfather’s store or an old, local hangout was featured. It’s also made for people who don’t get to see this part of the world. One of the best things about online platforms like Instagram, is that it’s a global service. I can share what’s unique in my area so that others can enjoy it. It’s a dichotomy. For some, it’s a record of memories, while for others, it’s a glimpse into a different way of life.
No matter where you live, it’s important to document the world around you. That’s precisely what history is. I may not photograph everything or even every town, but what I do has a chance to live on for years to come. Several spots that I’ve shared already have either been torn down, burned, or have otherwise faded into history. But they still live through that split second my shutter moved. This is a celebration of a time-that-was and still is, beauty stuck between eras.
This is the Rural Record.
