Welcome to this edition of [book spotlight]. Today, we uncover the layers of 'Spina Americana,' by Richard Sharum (published by GOST Books). We'd love to read your comments below about these insights and ideas behind the artist's work.

Fast photography tells you what happened—long-form photography tells you why.

Most images are taken in an instant, but they rarely go beyond the surface. Long-form documentary photography is different—it demands patience, deep engagement, and an understanding of the people and places being documented. This kind of work isn’t about quick impressions, it’s about uncovering what lies beneath the obvious. That takes years, not moments.

Richard Sharum spent close to three years traveling through the central U.S., photographing communities often dismissed as “flyover country.” This project was about questioning assumptions and breaking stereotypes. The more time Richard spent with people, the clearer it became: the idea that they are separate from the rest of America is a myth. The camera doesn’t just document—it proves how little actually divides us.

The only way to truly capture a place is to live with it.

The Book

Spina Americana by Richard Sharum is a long-form documentary photography project exploring the central United States. Over three years, Sharum traveled tens of thousands of miles through a 100-mile-wide corridor spanning the Dakotas, Kansas, Nebraska, Oklahoma, and Texas. His goal was to challenge the “flyover country” stereotype and uncover what remains of America’s collective identity. The book presents a mix of personal stories and broader themes, culminating in a final chapter contrasting division and unity. (GOST Books, Amazon)

Overview of the project: What inspired you to embark on the journey that led to Spina Americana, and what did you hope to uncover about the American national character?

I spent close to three years traveling tens of thousands of miles up the central United States in the hopes of finding a piece of America that I was unfamiliar with and was interested in getting to know. I was driven by this anxiety considering our national division and I wanted to see if I could dispel any stereotypes about this region of the country that are so prominent.

Was there a moment or encounter that made you rethink your own assumptions about this region?

Yes, when I was invited into the Mennonite colony with open arms. They knew that I was there to document and they welcomed it, even after they asked about my religious beliefs and I informed them that I am an atheist.

Challenging the ‘flyover country’ narrative: You mentioned how the term “flyover country” carries a sense of condescension. What did you discover about the people and communities living along America’s central spine that challenges or redefines this label?

It's not that I discovered anything different about these individuals, it was more that I had a suspicion that there was no difference. All of my work going back 20-years has been a sort of manifesto on my belief that the differences between people, not just in this country but all over the world, are almost non-existent when studied up close.

Connecting with diverse communities: Your project documents a wide range of people, from migrant laborers to Mennonites, Indigenous communities, and farmers. How did you approach these encounters to ensure an authentic and respectful representation of their lives?

I'm very strict when approaching people in that I am completely up front in who I am and what I am doing. In addition, I am also very honest about what it is about them that I think makes a good representation of a particular class, race, creed, or region. When approaching strangers for portraits, I am also very strict in photographing them where I find them - i.e. in a field, on a street, next to a wall, an American flag, etc.

Balancing individual stories with a broader narrative: How did you structure Spina Americana to reflect both personal stories and a larger understanding of contemporary America?

Stu Smith of GOST and I worked on the book in themes, as doing it chronologically or by region didn't feel right. I didn't want individuals from separate states to be grouped by region, as I thought that went against the premise of the book. As a result, we grouped individuals from the Central United States into groups - home, work, the Americans, etc.

How did you decide what to include, and were there any images you struggled to leave out?

Designing and editing/sequencing a book is always difficult. If it is easy, it is not being done right. It should be a struggle of compromise, applying heat and pressure until something permanent takes place. It must be done with the understanding that the work will outlive all of us. All diamonds are born violently, therefore some shards will be left on the cutting room floor.

Visual storytelling and composition: Your images capture striking contrasts—between decay and resilience, isolation and community. How do you use composition and lighting to reinforce these themes

My work has never aimed to capture one facet of life - it encompases all of life, both dirt and shine. Life is full of decay, resilience, isolation, and community. Embracing it all as part of a larger narrative was the goal and intention in showing the complexities of this land 100 miles wide x 1,750 miles long.

The role of long-form documentary photography: You’ve dedicated years to this project. How has the experience of working in long-form documentary photography shaped your perspective on storytelling and patience in the creative process?

In my opinion (which may not be popular at this time), the most important form of photography for our time is documentary photography and the only ethical way to accomplish this is longform. I feel that anything less is not only an injustice to those being documented but cannot be done with honesty from a photographers viewpoint, and could have serious implications on whether or not photography can be a device to tell important stories.

How did spending years on Spina Americana shape your understanding of patience in storytelling?

It wasn't Spina necessarily, it has been my whole career. All of my serious work has been long-form. It's not that I don't feel there is a place for other forms such as conceptualism or fine-art, of course there is and they all bring something to the table. But long-form doc work is by far the most honest, if it is done honestly, and has the most potential at actually breaking down barriers.

Technical and creative challenges: What were some of the most difficult aspects of photographing in these remote or often-overlooked regions, and how did you overcome them? 

The greatest challenge in doing longform work away from home is loneliness. I got over it the same way I usually do, in understanding the responsibility I have to do justice to the topic and that outweighs any inconveniences I may navigate.

Photography as social commentary: The final chapter of your book juxtaposes images tied to “hate, decay, and danger” with those tied to “duty and community.” How do you see photography’s role in capturing and confronting societal divisions?

My role as a photographer is one of pure mediation. My goal in photographing anything is to boil down the supposed and perceived differences, finding the base alloy that ties all people, everywhere, throughout time. I feel that photography is unique in the potential that it has to bring forth an emotion that reminds the viewer that the differences between them and the individuals in the photograph are imaginary.

The book’s final chapter contrasts images of ‘hate, decay, and danger’ with those of ‘duty and community.’ Did you find that people in these communities were aware of this tension, or was it something you uncovered through photography?

This tension is human, by nature, or the realization of it is. It is not bound by region or even time. I am not sure that this inherent tension was recognized by a certain group of people in this region, but it is everyday on an individual basis on some level, everywhere. My job is to find that, share it, and to remember personally through my work, that this sort of bond is one of the opportunities given to us daily to speak about real change.

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Advice for emerging documentary photographers: For photographers looking to document overlooked communities or tackle long-term projects, what lessons from Spina Americana would you share to help guide their journey?

It's extremely important for photographers to understand the power that they hold in being able to construct a narrative and be a catalyst for change. I would hope that any photographer taking on a longform project understands that the act of photography on that level has to be an equal and proportional sacrifice to what they are doing - they must be equally vulnerable to those that are being photographed. Otherwise, it is purely one-sided and dishonest from the get-go. There is power in moving quietly, talking softly and keeping an open heart.

We’d love to hear your thoughts on these insights and the ideas behind the artist’s work. Don't forget to subscribe to receive news about latest posts and giveaway winners.

We’d love to hear your thoughts on these insights and the ideas behind the artist’s work.

Don't forget to subscribe to receive news about latest posts and giveaway winners.

To discover more about this intriguing body of work and how you can acquire your own copy, you can find and purchase the book here. (GOST Books, Amazon)

Richard Sharum

Richard Sharum is an editorial and documentary photographer based in Dallas, Texas. His work focuses on socio-economic and social justice issues, often capturing overlooked communities with an intimate, up-close approach. His photography has been exhibited internationally in cities such as Kyoto, São Paulo, Reggio Emilia, New York, Boston, Chicago, and Dallas. His work is held in permanent collections, including the Witliff Center for Documentary Studies. Represented by The Hulett Collection, Sharum has been published in LFI, British Journal of Photography, The Atlantic, and The New York Times Lens Blog. (Website, Instagram)

About GOST Books

Founded in 2012, GOST Books is an independent publisher based in London, specializing in visual arts and photography. The publisher stands out for its eclectic range of subjects and innovative designs, tackling everything from portraits of individuals who claim to be the Messiah, to studies of Turkish soap operas and artworks inspired by flamingo breeding grounds in the Southern Hemisphere. GOST Books also delves into historical archives, like photographs from the Mexico City police department, and cultural snapshots, such as portraits of state competition winners in Belarus. Committed to supporting both emerging artists and established masters, GOST Books contributes significantly to the ongoing dialogue of photography and visual arts in printed form. (Website, Instagram)

Published by GOST Books

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