TALKING PICTURES Madeleine Hordinski

Madeleine Hordinski is a Cincinnati-based photographer who works throughout the Midwest. A regular contributor to The New York Times and The Washington Post, her photographs have also appeared in National Geographic, The Guardian, NPR, Los Angeles Times, and more. Madeleine is also a faculty member at the University of Cincinnati’s School of Design, where she teaches photography.

This year, I got a call from The New York Times to contribute to a story about defining the Midwest. The photo editor gave me the freedom to interpret the assignment, focusing on both downtown Cincinnati and its suburbs. I found myself asking: How can I capture  what the Midwest feels like and what it means to live here? And more specifically, how do I convey Cincinnati's spirit? I spent time driving through Cincinnati, searching for images that felt true to my home. Of all the moments I photographed, this one is my favorite. It reminds me of what it was like to grow up here and of what makes the Midwest so special.

There are some images you search for, like the first one, where I drove around to find the right moment, and stumbled upon a scene. And then, there are images that find you when you’re not looking for them. On a recent trip to Poland with my sister, to learn more about our family’s history, we came across an orange-tinted field wrapped in mist while driving home late one night. To this day, it’s one of the most beautiful night scenes I’ve ever witnessed. I’m so grateful we have this image, despite waking up all the neighborhood dogs. That feeling of coming upon a picture is one of the best. It is why photography is so magical and why I feel compelled to make pictures.

The awe and wonder I felt witnessing the eclipse this year was unmatched. I was sent to Northern Ohio, to a small island called South Bass on Lake Erie, to photograph the eclipse for The New York Times. The reverent, profound silence that enveloped the moment of totality was haunting and otherworldly. Although most people were looking at, or trying to document, the eclipse itself I sought to show the collective moment — thousands of people all looking up at the sky while I looked at them. I love this photograph because it not only reminds me of the first two photographs, but the three scenes work in harmony. The moments live at the intersection of whimsy, wonder, and magic. It has since become one of my favorite memories.

Cincinnati is where I was born, where I live, and where I fell in love with photography. Through my work, I always hope to share the deep love I have for the Midwest and its beauty. A couple of years ago, while driving alone near the Ohio river, I stumbled upon a view of  the city when it was  shrouded in thick fog. The birds seemed to materialize above the water — appearing out of thin air. It was exciting to photograph, watching the landscape interact with the fairytale haze that enveloped my city.

Unlike the image of my sister, this one was not a serendipitous photo. During our time in Poland, I spotted this place on a walk  and decided to return. The sculptures, which were created in the 1960s by this amazing sculptor Bronisław Chromy, immediately caught my attention. I was drawn to their strangeness and how they seemed almost ordinary in their setting. I grabbed my notebook, and I sketched out a concept for a photo where my sister would interact with the sculptures. I wanted the scene to feel folkloric—whimsical, yet slightly unsettling. I had her walk around the sculptures, back and forth, until I decided to focus on her hand wrapping around the very edge of the figure.

Follow Madeleine @madeleinehordinski