The Mirror Effect: A Horse and His Human
In this installment of "Southern Voices," a photographer captures the rare bond between a horse and its rider. Through film photography, she documents their playful moments, tender exchanges, and unspoken connection. Image: Alice Mae Photography
“Southern Voices” is a reader-submitted series. Today’s personal essay comes from Nashville photographer Alice Nickels. Shooting a mixture of 35mm film and digital, she’s taken her cameras all over the US, to India, Paris, and beyond.
**********
I felt the excitement begin to well up as I turned onto the interstate off-ramp. The warm Tennessee evening air, mixed with rolling hills bursting with green, was going to be the perfect setting for my photoshoot. I was on my way to Breakaway Ranch in Springfield, TN, where I would be documenting the relationship between a woman and her horse.
But unlike some photoshoots where the photographer is using what is in front of them to imitate an idea or bring their own vision to life, my goal was to capture their dynamic exactly as it was. This was my reason for pairing the concept with film; I wasn’t there to direct so much as to observe and document it.
As is common for many young girls, I went through a horse phase as a child. I was enchanted by the idea that these majestic creatures were capable of such meaningful relationships with their owners. I wanted to be that girl who built a relationship with a horse so that when you saw us together, it made sense that we belonged to one another. Despite not being able to live out that childhood dream, as an adult, I’ve maintained a deep love and respect for horses.
I arrived and walked into the stables, greeted by several curious, long faces. There was one in particular I was there to see: Newport, a rat-tailed Appaloosa, along with his human, Taylor.
Taylor walked up to me with a warm smile, tattoos that were fitting for an equine woman, and gave me the sturdiest handshake I’ve received in a while.
We introduced ourselves and made our way over to Newport’s stall. I pulled a carrot from my back pocket, breaking it into a few pieces before offering it to him. Newport quickly ate my friendly offering, which was immediately followed by a bossy kind of sniffing and nudging as he searched for more treats. It wasn’t hard to pick up on his haughtiness; my first glimpse of this creature’s cheeky personality.
While Taylor stepped away briefly to change out of her barn clothes, I took the opportunity to take in my surroundings and decide where I wanted to shoot. Taylor returned with her hair pulled back in a low bun, wearing a simple white shirt, jeans, and a wide-brimmed hat. I began to ask her questions in order to get to know her, Newport, and learn what it takes to be a professional horsewoman.
Hailing from the high desert of Southern California, Taylor isn’t like a lot of horsemen and horsewomen who followed in their family’s steps. As a young girl, she discovered her love of horses all on her own, and her mother, seeing her passion, helped foster it by finding people who could educate and work with her daughter.
A lot of strength is required of a horsewoman; the obvious physical strength needed to lift a heavy saddle, but horses are also profoundly intelligent and very emotionally intuitive animals. As Taylor and I stood outside of the stables conversing, she articulated this perfectly, “Horses are mirrors. They have this innate ability to be extremely in tune and empathetic with you, sometimes with things that you don’t even know you’re feeling. If you pay close enough attention, you’ll realize what your shortcomings and your strengths are.”
Taylor continued, explaining how there are many things you should and shouldn’t do when it comes to working with horses. While she applies that to the horses she is paid to train for others, it’s different with Newport. He isn’t like other horses in Taylor’s life. Newport is the horse that has no purpose other than to be her companion. She allows him to be exactly who he is, and using her own description, that means at times he can be a bit of a “hellion”. When I asked, “Why him?”, there wasn’t a particular reason.
When describing how it came about, she explained, “It’s like going into a crowd of people, and for whatever reason, you just pick one and think ‘that one is mine’, and they become part of your life. In my experience, that does not happen often. Our relationship is different from what I normally experience as a horseperson. There are still challenges, but it almost feels like we’ve been here before, like this isn’t our first time on Earth together. There’s a spark.”
As the sun dropped low, we made our way to a wheat field to take photos. As soon as Newport got his first bite, he made it his mission to snatch as many mouthfuls as he could during our photoshoot. It became a game of tug-of-war with the reins, where if Taylor gave Newport an inch, he was quick to disregard her desire for him to be poised, and instead would reach for another mouthful of delicious wheat berries. There was no faking it with these two.
Throughout the photoshoot, I captured on film images of the battle of the wills, moments of ease and understanding, as well as exchanges of joy. As the sun dwindled along the horizon, we made our way back toward the stables, pausing in a lush green pasture for Newport to snack on some fresh grass and to capture photos in a more relaxed setting.
My favorite observations of the evening were watching the love and respect between Newport and Taylor, as well as seeing a woman so beautifully live in the tension of tenacity and tenderness. You could see it in the way Newport playfully knocked off Taylor’s hat, in her commanding moments of telling him exactly what they were doing next, and during the in-between, where they were at ease and so content in each other’s presence.
I caught a glimpse of the mirror effect when Taylor sat in front of Newport, looking up at him with such affection that he couldn’t help but pause from his incessant snacking to connect with her.
I chose to photograph this project solely on film because, unlike digital cameras, which can only recreate what the computer thinks it sees, film records what is. When light hits the surface of film, it leaves behind a physical imprint. The light that touched Newport and Taylor is the same light that changed the chemistry of the film — a real moment made permanent. It’s authentic and unrepeatable, just like the relationship between Taylor and Newport.
**********
StyleBlueprint would love to hear your story! Find the “Southern Voices” submission guidelines HERE.
