By Josh Inocéncio
Like so many southerners, photographer Ransom Ashley, 26, had to leave his hometown before fully embracing his roots. While growing up in Shreveport, Louisiana, he was bullied for being “different.” As a gay adolescent, he turned to art as a way to channel his isolation. “I started photography as an outlet to navigate my feelings about who I was,” remembers Ashley. “It became my version of a diary.”
So, when Ashley got the chance, he moved to New York to study fashion photography at the Parsons School of Design at the New School—a program known for fashion design. However, as liberating as New York was for Ashley, he found his work lacking inspiration. “I felt disconnected from the work that I was making,” he says. “And then for family reasons, I ended up coming back to Louisiana and inspiration really hit.”
Photographer Ransom Ashley.
By returning to Shreveport, Ashley had to confront a lot of the discrimination he experienced as a kid—but this time, he steered his way through by connecting with other queer people in the region. This formed the bedrock of his work. Thus, photography wasn’t just a means of surviving isolation anymore; it was a way to forge community. “I wanted to bring [the queer community] into the light as much as I could,” says Ashley. “I wanted to tell the stories of other people who had similar experiences to me. People who felt ignored or persecuted because of differences. It was a way to connect with people like me.”
Ian Quiet, photographed by Ransom Ashley.
While he was living in Shreveport, he sought out queer people across the spectrum—not just other gay men like himself, but also genderqueer and transgender folks. He wanted to highlight the struggles that unite the queer community. The turning point for Ashley was meeting and photographing Ian Quiet, a gender-fluid person living in Shreveport. “It was a shoot where we really peeled back the layers,” he recalls. “We got down to how traumatic experiences connect us. It was an emotional shoot.”
“He’s one of the most eccentric people I’ve ever met,” adds Ashley. “And Ian’s always lived in Louisiana and he’s just dared to be himself—no matter the risks or repercussions. It’s been very difficult for him, but he gave me strength.” For Ashley, photography is a way for folks to heal—not only for the people he photographs, but for himself as well. It’s also an intimate way of “being able to live with other people’s stories,” he says.
“We all have so much in common. Ian really taught me that,” says Ashley. “I feel like my grandmother would love him, even though she was incredibly conservative, just because of who he is. And it shows how much we’ve been stereotyped throughout history.”
Ashley’s time in Shreveport also lead to him being featured in the Shreveport Times, his hometown newspaper.
While Ashley has since relocated to Austin, Texas, where he works in both photography and film, he acknowledges that his time in the Deep South was what crystallized his artistic voice. His work in Louisiana is now being featured in his newest project, Virgins—produced by Wombat, a publisher that focuses on limited edition boxes of photographer’s work. “I was approached by Wombat. It’s like a book, but it’s a box,” says Ashley. “The thread in that work is this naïve exploration of what it means to be human.”
Ransom Ashley’s ‘Virgins’—produced by Wombat.
The box showcases a range of Ashley’s work over the years. “Virgins includes earlier work as well as recent work,” he says. “And it has two prints you can frame and live with. It doesn’t just cover one facet of my journey as an artist, but elements from my own self exploration in my first project to turning the lens on my own community.”
As far as upcoming projects, Ashley is immersed in Austin’s queer community. Currently, he’s working on a few film projects and photographing transgender drag performers. “I came to Austin and it was a huge epiphany for me,” he says. “It’s an inspiration to see so many people pursuing their passions.”
For more on Ransom Ashley’s work, visit ransomashley.com.
