Katrien Orlans

What initially inspired you to turn your grief into a photographic journey across America?

When your mother dies, (mine passed when I was 37, after battling cancer four times) you’re left with a silence, a hole in your heart. I felt this urge to connect with her as deeply as I could.
I listened to the music she loved. I rewatched the films we’d seen together. It was all about closing that growing distance, trying to hold on to time.
My mother had a fascination with America. She traveled there often. I grew up with that fascination. I wanted to stand where she had stood. See what she had seen.
And there was only one way to do that: I had to go there myself.

 Katrien Orlans | In Search Of America | 2016

Can you tell us more about your mother’s fascination with the United States and how that shaped this project?

My mother was a teenager in the ’50s and ’60s.
That post-war era when America seemed to reinvent itself overnight. A pink Cadillac and a mint green fridge for everyone. Elvis. Hollywood. Rock and roll.
The American Dream felt within reach for all.
She adored movies. I was five when she first took me to the cinema and Grease was my very first film. I watched Hitchcock at an age when most kids were still on cartoons.
And honestly? My mother looked like a Hollywood star herself. Red lipstick. Elegant clothes.
It felt like America was the only place where she was truly happy. Her eyes lit up when she had a trip planned.

 Katrien Orlans | In Search Of America | 2017

“What does ‘Mother’ mean to you?” is a powerful question. What kinds of responses have you received during this project?

The responses were often beautiful and moving, but sometimes also painful to hear.
What struck me most is that, even in the rawest, most heartbreaking stories, there’s almost always a deep bond that remains. A sense of loyalty. Love. No matter how complex or fractured the relationship, people carry their mother with them.

Your images evoke a strong sense of stillness, memory, and longing. How do you approach capturing that emotional atmosphere?

By being fully present in the moment.
Knowing that my mother had stood in that exact spot. Seeing what she once saw.
Sometimes the melancholy was so intense, my vision blurred with tears. I had to pause and wait until I could see clearly again.
Those long roads. Ennio Morricone, Johnny Cash, Elvis playing through the car speakers. Slowly, a rhythm takes hold of you.
You fall into a kind of flow. And that’s where the work begins.

 Katrien Orlans | In Search Of America | 2018

How did traveling with your own family influence the way you saw and photographed the American landscape?

I felt so supported by my family. I couldn’t have done this without them.
My husband took care of everything. I just had to say where I wanted to go, and make sure my gear was ready. He arranged the flights, the hotels, the routes. He’s my anchor.
And my children softened the sharp edges of my grief. I no longer have a mother, but I am a mother.
We’re more critical of America, politically, socially. We don’t romanticize it the way my mother once did. But the landscape? It’s still overwhelmingly beautiful. Raw. Vast. It humbles you. It silences you.
Walking in her shadow, seeing my children ahead of me,so full of wonder, was deeply comforting.
And all of that, I think, found its way into the photographs.

 Katrien Orlans | In Search Of America | 2023

Many of your photos show emptiness or in-between places. What draws you to these kinds of spaces?

Symbolically, my images are a search for someone you can no longer find.
Someone who lives on only in memory.
The emptiness, the in-between places… they reflect that sense of disorientation. The feeling of being surrounded by family, and still feeling alone.
These spaces carry a kind of quiet tension. A pause that’s both full and hollow.
I’ve always felt drawn to the paintings of Edward Hopper, that same sense of solitude, that charged stillness.
I don’t seek out those places on purpose. They find me.
And when they do, I know exactly why I stopped.

 Katrien Orlans | In Search Of America | 2017

Were there specific places or encounters during your journey that deeply affected you?

The first time I stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon, I couldn’t take a photo right away.
Nothing felt equal to reality. No image could match it. I just stood there, in silence.
And then there was Charles, in New York. I met him on the street and asked him the same question I’d asked others: “What does ‘mother’ mean to you?”
He was a veteran, homeless because of injuries he’d sustained in the war. In just half an hour, he cut right through the glossy surface of America. His story was like a mirror of the country’s history, honest, wounded, brilliant.
I wish I had the space to tell you more, but there’s not enough time here.
You can read the full story on my website.
Charles, with his purple beard,left a mark on me.
I still wonder how he’s doing.