Photographing Wyoming: Cowboys, Ranches & the Open Road

Wyoming Photography: Cowboys, Ranches, Small Towns & the American West

Weathered wooden ranch corrals with Wyoming mountains in the distance

Weathered wooden corrals sit against the mountains in the distance.

I've spent a lot of time driving through Wyoming over the years, usually with somewhere specific to be and enough time built into the trip to stop when something catches my attention. And in Wyoming, that happens a lot.

Most photography of Wyoming understandably focuses on the obvious places. Yellowstone, wildlife, etc etc. All of which deserve the attention they get. But that's never really been what keeps me coming back with a camera.

I'm more interested in the Wyoming between those places.

The working ranches. Cowboys. Small towns. Rodeos. Bars. Old motels. Empty highways. People going about their lives. And all the strange, quiet things you find after enough hours on the road.

Over the years, those photographs have become part of several long-term bodies of work documenting the American West. Taken together, they tell a story about Wyoming that has less to do with its famous scenery and more to do with what it feels like to spend time there.

Worn cowboy boots resting on a workbench inside an old Western building

Worn cowboy boots sit among the tools and debris in a burned out building.

Photographing Wyoming Beyond The Instagram Hot Spots

There probably isn't another state in America as visually associated with the West as Wyoming. It's hard to separate the place from the mythology surrounding it.

The landscape certainly has something to do with that. Everything feels bigger. Towns are separated by enormous stretches of nothing. Weather can change quickly. Mountains appear on the horizon and stay there for hours.

But the longer I've photographed Wyoming, the more interested I've become in the evidence of people living inside that landscape.

A faded motel sign. An old truck parked outside a bar. A gas station in the middle of nowhere. Horses standing behind a fence. A main street that looks like it hasn't changed much in 40 years.

None of those things are unique to Wyoming on their own. Together, though, they start to describe the place in a way that another photograph of the Tetons can't.

That's the Wyoming I keep looking for.

Weathered green vintage car parked beside an old Wyoming building

An old car parked beside a dilapidated building adds another detail along the road.

Man sitting in a pickup truck with an American flag on a Wyoming street

A man holding a gun sits in his truck with a Trump flag hanging off the tailgate.

Old motel beside a Wyoming road with rocky cliffs behind it

The old motel sits beside the road with rocky cliffs behind it.

Package liquor storefront with Bud Light sign in a Wyoming town

Old signs and storefronts are part of the small-town landscape.

Wyoming Cowboy Photography

For the past several years, a significant part of my work has focused on working cowboys and ranches throughout the American West.

There's an enormous difference between photographing the idea of a cowboy and photographing someone who actually makes a living horseback.

The work isn't performed for the camera. Cattle need to be gathered and moved. Calves need to be branded. Fences need fixing. Horses need to be saddled. The weather doesn't care that you're trying to make photographs.

That's precisely what makes it interesting.

When I'm photographing cowboys in Wyoming, I'm not interested in manufacturing some romantic version of the West that doesn't exist. I'm interested in the things that happen naturally when people are doing work they've spent their lives learning how to do.

A rider disappearing into a cloud of dust. The way a horse and cowboy move together while sorting cattle. Frozen hands early in the morning. Long stretches where nothing particularly dramatic happens, followed by thirty seconds when everything happens at once.

Those moments are what have kept me working on this project year after year.

They also serve as a reminder that the American cowboy isn't simply a historical character. Ranching culture is still very much alive in Wyoming.

Weathered wooden cattle corrals on a working ranch in Wyoming

Weathered cattle corrals sit below the rolling hills on a working ranch in Wyoming.

Close view of a cowboy's horse wearing a worn Western bridle

First light illuminates a horses face on a working cattle ranch.

Cowboy on horseback moving cattle across a Wyoming ranch

Working cattle brings the cowboy, horses, and land into the same frame.

Photographing Working Ranches in Wyoming

Access is everything when photographing ranches.

You can't understand much about a place by showing up for twenty minutes, making a few photographs and leaving. The pictures get better when people stop paying attention to the camera.

That takes time.

Over the years I've been fortunate to spend time on working ranches throughout the West, documenting cattle drives, brandings, roundups and the everyday work that happens between those bigger events.

Some of my favorite photographs aren't necessarily of cowboys at all.

They're the details surrounding the work. Saddles worn smooth from years of use. A pair of gloves sitting on a fence post. Steam coming off a horse on a cold morning. Trucks covered in dirt. Dogs waiting for something to happen. People standing around talking after the work is finished.

Those details say as much about ranching as the dramatic moments do.

The landscape is always present too. In Wyoming, it's impossible for it not to be. Ranching happens at a scale that can make a rider on horseback look insignificant against the country surrounding them.

That relationship between people, animals and land is a large part of what I'm trying to photograph.

Cowboy on horseback moving cattle across a Wyoming ranch

Horse and rider move through the pasture as cattle gather nearby.

Portrait of a cowboy wearing a hat and bandana

Cowboy portrait inside a working ranch workshop.

Small Town Wyoming

Long before I started seriously photographing cowboys, I was photographing the American road.

For years I've driven around the country making photographs of places and objects that aren't typically considered important enough to photograph. Motels. Diners. signs. Abandoned buildings. Old cars. Storefronts. Bars. Basketball hoops. And whatever else makes me pull over.

Wyoming is particularly good for that kind of wandering.

There are towns where the main street seems disproportionately wide for the number of people living there. Bars that might be the only place open for miles. Old motels hanging on beside highways that travelers now pass through without stopping.

Some places are changing quickly. Others feel like they exist in their own time zone.

That's what interests me.

Road trips are usually organized around destinations, but photography has taught me that the spaces between those destinations are often more interesting.

Wyoming has a lot of space between destinations.

And I've learned not to hurry through it.

Weathered brick building with an old clock and boarded window in Wyoming

Old clocks, weathered brick, and worn storefronts are part of the small-town landscape.

White church and quiet main street in a small Wyoming town

Small-town streets like this make it easy to slow down and look around.

Wyoming small town street with storefronts and mountains in the distance

Wyoming's main streets often run straight toward the mountains, with businesses and storefronts along the road.

Small Wyoming town with homes and a mountain rising behind them

The mountains rise behind the houses and streets of town.

Portrait of a man standing inside a Western workshop in Wyoming

Light from the window adds detail to the portrait.

Books tools and supplies on shelves inside a Wyoming ranch workshop

Books, tools, and supplies fill the shelves and workbench of the shop.

Man working on a rifle at a cluttered workbench in a Wyoming shop

A man works on a rifle at the crowded workbench.

Saddles and Western ranch gear inside a Wyoming ranch building

Saddles and ranch gear fill the interior of the building.

Rodeo Culture in Dubois, Wyoming

Dubois is a small town in western Wyoming with a population of roughly a thousand people. During the summer, Friday nights mean rodeo.

I went there expecting to photograph the rodeo and came away much more interested in everything surrounding it.

Of course there were cowboys, horses, broncs and bulls. But there were also kids running around behind the chutes, families sitting in the stands, competitors talking before their events and all the little interactions happening away from the arena.

Afterward, a lot of the same people ended up at the local bar.

That's where the story became more interesting to me.

Cowboys who had been competing a few hours earlier were drinking, talking and dancing. Rodeo spectators mixed with locals. The distinction between the event and everyday life disappeared.

Those photographs became less about rodeo and more about a small Western community.

That's generally where I want the camera to be.

Cowboy on horseback carrying an American flag at a Wyoming rodeo

A cowboy carries an American flag through the rodeo arena.

Cowboys and spectators gathered at a Wyoming rodeo in the evening

Cowboys and spectators gather around the rodeo as the evening gets underway.

Cowboy riding a horse at a Wyoming rodeo in low light

Horse and rider move through the arena in a blur of motion.

Crowded Western bar at night in a Wyoming town after a rodeo

The night continues at the local bar after the rodeo.

Cowboys and spectators gathered inside a Wyoming bar after a rodeo

Rodeo competitors and spectators mix together inside the bar after the events.

Rodeo participant in Western clothing walking through a Wyoming bar

The rodeo continues into the evening at the local bar.

Wyoming Road Trip Photography

Driving is an enormous part of making this work.

There isn't really another way around it.

Wyoming rewards that kind of travel because the distances force you to slow down. You can drive for hours through country that initially appears empty before realizing how much is actually there.

Weather systems move across the horizon. Light changes constantly. Pronghorn appear beside the highway. Towns come and go in a few minutes.

Then there's all the human stuff.

Hand-painted signs. Old bars. Gas stations. Churches. Trucks. Motels. Ranch entrances. Buildings whose original purpose isn't immediately obvious.

I've missed plenty of photographs because I told myself I'd stop on the way back.

I've learned not to do that anymore.

If something makes me look twice, I turn around.

Sometimes it turns into a photograph. Most of the time it doesn't. That's part of the process.

There isn't a checklist for this kind of Wyoming road trip photography. I'm not driving from one famous overlook to another trying to reproduce photographs I've already seen.

The whole point is not knowing what I'm looking for until I see it.

Dirt road winding through sagebrush and open Wyoming countryside

The dirt road cuts through the open country and sagebrush.

Golden West Motel sign and weathered building in a Wyoming town

Mountains rise behind the Golden West Motel and its roadside sign.

Open Wyoming landscape with a mountain ridge and lone tree

Open country and scattered trees stretch toward the mountains.

Weathered brick storefront with chimney and entrance in Wyoming

Weathered brick and an old storefront show the age of the building.

Fish shaped sign above a street in a small Wyoming town

A fish-shaped sign adds another unexpected detail to a small Wyoming town.

Why I Keep Photographing Wyoming

The West has changed enormously, and it continues to change.

That's part of the reason I feel an urgency to keep photographing it.

I'm not interested in pretending Wyoming is frozen in some earlier era. It isn't. New houses go up. Old businesses disappear. Ranches change hands. Towns grow. People leave and other people arrive.

At the same time, there are aspects of life here that remain closely connected to the state's history.

People still make their living raising cattle. Cowboys still spend long days horseback. Small-town rodeos still bring communities together on summer nights. There are still roads where you can drive a long time without seeing another car.

The tension between those things interests me.

Photography can't preserve a place, but it can preserve evidence of what it looked and felt like at a particular moment.

That's enough reason for me to keep going back.

There will always be another road I haven't driven, another ranch I haven't visited, another town I've passed through too quickly.

And probably another reason to turn the truck around.

Sandman Motel sign and storefront along a Wyoming street

The Sandman Motel sign stands beside the road in town.

Snow covered ranch buildings and livestock trailer beneath Wyoming mountains

Ranch buildings and a livestock trailer sit in the snow below the mountains.

Western Motel building and sign in a small Wyoming town

The Western Motel sits along the road beneath the rocky cliffs.

Basketball hoop mounted against a brick building beneath a Wyoming hillside

A basketball hoop stands against a brick building below the rocky hillside.

Fine Art Photography of Wyoming & the American West

These Wyoming photographs are part of my larger ongoing documentation of cowboy culture, working ranches, rural communities and everyday life throughout the American West.

A selection of the work is available as limited-edition fine art photography prints, produced using archival materials and available in a range of sizes and custom framing options.

The photographs aren't intended to present a polished or invented version of the West. They're records of people, places and moments I've encountered after years of traveling and photographing this part of America.

View the Full Cowboy Gallery

View Cowboy Photography Prints

View More Roadtrip Photography

View my Roadtrip Photography Book

Wyoming road leading through open country toward a mountain

The road runs through open country toward the mountains.

Wyoming mountain range beyond a sagebrush covered hillside

Sagebrush and open country stretch toward the mountain range.

Wyoming lake reflecting mountains and clouds across the open landscape

The lake reflects the mountains and clouds across the open country.

Grand Teton mountain range rising above the Wyoming landscape

The Grand Teton range rises above the landscape.

Artwork featured on the set of Dutton Ranch

Cowboy Photography Featured on the Set of Dutton Ranch

Recently, one of my cowboy photography prints appeared on the set of Dutton Ranch, the latest series set within the world of the modern American West.

It wasn't the first time my work has found its way onto a television set. Previously, four of my photographs were used on the set of Yellowstone, where they appeared as part of the visual landscape of one of the most successful Western dramas in recent memory.

As a photographer who has spent years documenting working ranches, cowboys, and ranching culture throughout the American West, those placements feel particularly meaningful. The photographs weren't created for television. They were made while documenting real people, real ranches, and a way of life that continues to shape the region today.

Seeing those images incorporated into productions that have helped reignite public interest in the American West is a reminder that authentic Western imagery still resonates with audiences far beyond ranch country.

Like many photographers, I've had images published in magazines, licensed for commercial campaigns, and exhibited in galleries. Seeing a photograph become part of a television production is a different experience altogether. Rather than serving as the subject of a story, the image becomes part of the environment itself—helping establish a sense of place, history, and authenticity within the world being portrayed on screen.

Two cowboys on horseback standing on a canyon ledge in a black and white Western landscape

Two riders pause on a canyon ledge, showing the kind of real Western imagery that gives the cowboy photography project its sense of place.

The Importance of Authentic Western Imagery

The popularity of Western television and film has created renewed interest in the people, places, and traditions that continue to define ranching culture throughout the American West.

Audiences are increasingly drawn to stories that feel authentic. Whether it's a working ranch in Texas, a historic cattle operation in Nevada, or a multi-generational ranching family in Nebraska, viewers can recognize the difference between imagery that is staged and imagery that reflects lived experience.

Production designers and set decorators understand this better than anyone.

Every object that appears on screen helps establish the identity of a character, a family, or a place. The artwork hanging on a wall becomes part of that visual storytelling.

When a production chooses photography from real ranches and real working cowboys, it helps create a more believable world.

Photographing the Modern American West

The photographs featured on the set is part of an ongoing documentary project focused on cowboy culture and ranching communities throughout the American West.

Over the past several years, I've traveled countless miles documenting historic ranches, branding crews, horse wranglers, ranch families, saddle makers, artists, and working cowboys whose lives remain deeply connected to the land.

The goal has never been to recreate a romanticized version of the West.

Instead, the project focuses on the people who continue to live it every day.

The ranches may differ in size and geography, but many share the same values: hard work, stewardship, resilience, and a strong connection to tradition.

Those qualities continue to resonate far beyond ranch country.

Why Western Art Matters in Interior Spaces

One of the things I enjoy most about creating fine art prints is seeing where they ultimately end up.

Some are installed in private homes.

Others find their way into ranch headquarters, lodges, hospitality projects, corporate offices, and Western-inspired interiors.

A television set adds another chapter to that story.

In each case, the photograph becomes more than an image on a wall. It contributes to the atmosphere of a space and helps tell a larger story about the people who inhabit it.

The best Western artwork doesn't simply depict the West—it reflects the character, history, and culture behind it.

Cowboy photography print displayed on the wall behind a dining table scene on Dutton Ranch

Rob Hammer’s cowboy photography print appears on the set of Dutton Ranch as part of the room’s Western set decor.

From Working Ranches to Television Screens

What makes this placement especially meaningful is that the photograph originated in the same world the series seeks to portray.

The image wasn't made on a movie set.

It wasn't created during a commercial production.

It was made while documenting real people and real ranching communities across the American West.

That authenticity has become one of the defining themes of the project, and it's gratifying to see those photographs continue to find new audiences through publications, exhibitions, private collections, and now television.

Cowboy Photography Prints from the American West

Many of the photographs from this ongoing project are available as museum-quality limited edition prints.

Collectors, ranch owners, designers, and hospitality clients have incorporated the work into homes, offices, lodges, and Western-inspired interiors throughout the country.

Each photograph is rooted in real places and real experiences, offering a contemporary look at ranching culture and life in the American West.

Explore More from the Cowboy Project

The image featured on the set of Dutton Ranch represents one photograph from a much larger body of work documenting cowboy culture across the American West.

Additional stories from the project include historic ranches, working cowboys, ranch families, Western artists, saddle makers, and the landscapes that continue to shape the region.

Together, they form an ongoing visual record of a culture that remains both enduring and relevant in the modern world.

While trends come and go, the stories of the American West continue to resonate. Seeing one of these photographs become part of a television production is a reminder that authentic Western imagery still holds a powerful place in the cultural imagination.

Cowboys on horseback gathered with a large horse herd in open ranch country beneath a wide sky

A horse herd gathers in open ranch country, reflecting the working landscapes and ranch culture behind Rob Hammer’s Western photography.

Patsy's Barbershop: A Barbershop That Still Feels Like a Barbershop

Inside One of Albany's Most Classic Barbershops

I grew up just outside Albany, New York.

While Albany wasn't technically my hometown, it was where I learned my way around the world beyond the small town where I was raised. For years, I thought I knew the city pretty well.

Yet somehow I never stepped inside Patsy's Barbershop.

By the time I finally photographed the shop, I was already thirteen (2024) years into the Barbershops of America project and had documented hundreds of barbershops across all 50 states. I had photographed shops in major cities, tiny rural towns, and everywhere in between. What I didn't expect was to find one of the most visually striking traditional barbershops in America just a few miles from where I grew up.

That's one of the things I've learned from this project. Some of the most remarkable places aren't found across the country. They're hiding in plain sight.

Patsy's Barbershop is one of those places.

Photograph of a beautiful traditional barbershop in Albany, NY

Traditional barbershop in Albany, NY

A Hidden Institution in Downtown Albany

For generations, Patsy's has served an unusually diverse cross-section of Albany.

Governors and state legislators have sat in the same chairs as construction workers, tradesmen, state employees, lawyers, small business owners, and lifelong residents of New York's capital city. Few businesses naturally bring together people from such different walks of life, but traditional barbershops have always been an exception.

The clientele reflects Albany itself.

As the seat of New York State government, Albany has long been a city where politics, public service, business, and blue-collar work intersect. Patsy's sits comfortably at the center of that world, quietly serving customers without fanfare while becoming part of the daily rhythm of the city.

What makes the shop remarkable, however, isn't just who walks through the door.

It's the space itself.

Barber giving a straight razor shave at Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany New York

A straight razor shave takes place inside Patsy’s Barbershop, surrounded by the shop’s preserved interior.

An Interior From Another Era

The moment you step inside Patsy's, it's clear that you're looking at something increasingly rare.

Dark wood paneling stretches the length of the shop. Built-in waiting benches line the walls beneath a series of geometric mirrors that feel lifted from another era of American design. The green-and-white tile floor, vintage barber chairs, old clocks, display cabinets, and original fixtures create an environment that feels almost untouched by time.

Many historic barbershops survive in name only. Over the decades, renovations replace original features, interiors become modernized, and the character that once defined the space slowly disappears.

Patsy's is different.

The shop doesn't feel vintage because someone intentionally recreated the look. It feels authentic because it never stopped being what it was.

The waiting area alone is enough to stop visitors in their tracks. The woodwork, individual seating sections, and Art Deco-inspired mirrors create one of the most distinctive barbershop interiors I've encountered anywhere in the country.

After photographing hundreds of shops, that's not something I say lightly.

Traditional Barbering Still Matters

What makes Patsy's especially compelling is that it isn't a museum.

The shop remains a working business, and the traditions that shaped it continue to play a role in daily life.

Hot towels still find their way across customers' faces. Straight razors are still used with care and precision. Haircuts aren't rushed. Attention to detail still matters.

At the same time, the current generation of barbers has brought its own personality to the shop.

The contrast is striking. A barber with tattoos and a contemporary style works beneath mirrors and woodwork that have been part of the shop for decades. The visual difference between past and present is obvious, yet it never feels out of place.

Instead, it feels like the natural evolution of a healthy business.

The shop respects its history without becoming trapped by it.

Green and white tile floor with vintage barber chairs at Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany New York

Green-and-white tile, built-in benches, and vintage barber chairs define the preserved interior of Patsy’s Barbershop.

A Barbershop That Still Feels Like a Barbershop

One thing I've noticed while documenting barbershops across America is that the rarest shops aren't necessarily the oldest.

The rarest shops are the ones that have managed to remain useful.

They continue serving their communities. They adapt when necessary. New generations step behind the chairs while preserving the qualities that made the shop important in the first place.

Patsy's embodies that balance.

The woodwork remains. The tile floor remains. The chairs remain. The atmosphere remains.

Most importantly, people still walk through the door every day for the same reason they always have.

To get a haircut.

To sit for a shave.

To take part in a tradition that has quietly connected generations of Americans.

After thirteen years of photographing barbershops across the country, finding a place like Patsy's so close to home was a reminder that remarkable places don't always announce themselves.

Sometimes they've been there all along, waiting for you to notice them.

And sometimes they still feel exactly like a barbershop should.

Client reclined with a hot towel over his face at Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany New York

A hot towel rests over a client’s face during a shave at Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany, New York.

Part of the Barbershops of America Project

Patsy's Barbershop is one of hundreds of barbershops photographed for the Barbershops of America project, a long-term documentary effort exploring traditional barbershops and barber culture across all fifty states.

Over the last fifteen years, the project has documented everything from century-old neighborhood shops and Black barbershops to modern traditional shops helping shape a new generation of American barbering. Many of the businesses photographed have since closed, making these images an increasingly valuable record of a disappearing part of American culture.

Patsy's stands out as one of the finest traditional interiors in the entire project—a reminder that some of the country's most remarkable barbershops are often found in unexpected places.

Explore the Barbershops of America photography book + prints

View the full Barbershops of America gallery

Barber standing with clippers beside a client at Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany New York

Inside Patsy’s Barbershop, the barber and client are reflected among the shop’s wood paneling and geometric mirrors.

Barber giving a shave inside the classic interior of Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany New York

Near the front window of Patsy’s Barbershop, a client sits is serviced as the shop’s vintage mirrors, chairs, and patterned tile fill the frame.

More Traditional Barbershop Stories

If you're interested in classic American barbershops, you may also enjoy:

Each shop reflects a different chapter of American barber culture while sharing the traditions that have made barbershops such an enduring part of community life.

Barber moving between the sink and chair during a service at Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany New York

A barber reaches back to get hot shaving cream during a service at Patsy’s Barbershop.

Black and white photograph of Patsy’s Barbershop in Albany, NY

15 Years of American Backcourts - Basketball Hoop Photography

When ESPN Named American Backcourts One of the Best Photo Stories of 2017

Fifteen years ago, I stopped to photograph a basketball hoop.

At the time, I had no idea that a single photograph would eventually turn into a long-term documentary project spanning thousands of miles, hundreds of towns, and countless back roads across America.

I certainly never imagined the work would be featured by ESPN, NBA TV, SLAM Magazine, Sports Illustrated, galleries, museums, and books about basketball culture.

But that is the strange thing about long-term projects. They rarely begin with a grand plan. More often, they start with curiosity.

The project that would eventually become American Backcourts began with a simple observation: basketball is everywhere!

Not just on organized courts or in cities known for basketball, but in places where you least expect them.

Beside barns.

Behind gas stations.

In alleyways.

At the edge of small towns.

In deserts.

Along fishing harbors.

On ranches.

In forgotten corners of America where a basketball hoop feels both completely out of place and perfectly at home.

American Backcourts featured as a best photo story of 2017 in ESPN

Looking Back on Fifteen Years of American Backcourts

Over the years, the project has taken me through nearly every corner of the country.

I've photographed hoops in major cities and tiny farming communities. I've found them attached to garages, mounted on telephone poles, hanging from trees, and built from scrap materials. Some courts were full of life. Others looked like they hadn't seen a basketball in decades.

What fascinated me was never the hoop itself.

It was what the hoop revealed about the people and places around it.

Every basketball hoop tells a story.

Sometimes it speaks about community.

Sometimes it speaks about isolation.

Sometimes it speaks about childhood memories, long summer evenings, or the passage of time.

The longer I worked on the project, the less it felt like a series about basketball and the more it felt like a portrait of America.

Basketball hoop and folding chair on a red desert court

A basketball hoop stands on a red desert court with a folding chair nearby, showing how the game appears in unexpected places across America.

Why Basketball Hoops?

People occasionally ask why I have spent so many years photographing basketball hoops. The answer has changed over time. In the beginning, I was drawn to the visual qualities of the structures themselves and the stories they told. The shapes, colors, weathering, and the way they interacted with the surrounding landscape.As the project grew, I became interested in something deeper.

Basketball hoops are one of the few objects that appear across nearly every social, economic, and geographic boundary in America. You can find them in wealthiest suburbs and most struggling ghettos. Basketball is everywhere and loved by all people.

The game requires very little. A hoop, a ball, and a place to play.

Because of that simplicity, basketball has become woven into the American landscape in a way few other sports have.

Weathered basketball hoop and wooden utility pole beneath dark storm clouds

Beneath a wooden utility pole and dark clouds, a weathered hoop reflects the roadside structures documented throughout American Backcourts.

When ESPN Took Notice

In 2017, ESPN included American Backcourts among its selections for the Best Photo Stories of the Year.

Seeing the project featured alongside work from some of the most respected photographers and storytellers in sports media was both surprising and humbling.

What meant the most was not the recognition itself. It was the realization that a project focused on old basketball hoops in overlooked places had connected with people beyond the photography world. The editors at ESPN understood something I had been discovering for years. These photographs were never really about basketball equipment.

They were about culture.

Memory.

Geography.

Identity.

They were about the relationship between a game and the places where people play it.

At the time, ESPN also featured the project through a short video presentation narrated by Jalen Rose that introduced the work to an even broader audience

Looking back now, that moment feels less like a destination and more like one chapter in a much longer story.

Basketball hoop standing in a desert landscape with cliffs in the background

Set against an open desert landscape, this basketball hoop shows how the game appears far beyond traditional courts.

Basketball hoop reflected in a puddle on an outdoor court

Caught in the reflection of standing water, the hoop becomes part of the quiet backcourt details photographed for American Backcourts.

What the Project Has Become

Since that feature, American Backcourts has continued to grow.

The photographs have been exhibited in galleries and museums, featured by NBA TV and SLAM Magazine, and included in fine art books documenting basketball culture around the world.

The project has expanded beyond America as well, with photographs made in places such as Vietnam and Europe.

Yet the heart of the work remains unchanged.

I am still searching for the same thing I was searching for fifteen years ago.

A basketball hoop that tells a story.

A place that most people would drive past without noticing.

A reminder that basketball exists far beyond arenas, television broadcasts, and professional sports.

Basketball hoop mounted on a snowy barn with mountains in the background

A small basketball hoop sits on the side of a snow-covered barn, showing the quiet rural places photographed for American Backcourts.

The Hoops I Remember Most

When people see a large collection of photographs, they often assume the most memorable images are the famous ones.

The truth is usually the opposite.

The photographs I remember most are often tied to places rather than pictures.

A lonely hoop at sunset on a back road in the Southwest.

A weathered backboard standing against a winter storm.

A handmade rim attached to a building in an alley.

A court where no one was playing, but where you could still feel the presence of the people who once did.

Those moments are why I continue to photograph the project.

Not because I expect to find the perfect hoop.

But because each one offers a small glimpse into a larger story.

Basketball hoop in front of a large American flag wall

Against a large American flag, the hoop becomes part of the broader visual language of basketball in America.

Fifteen Years and Counting

The longer I work on American Backcourts, the more I realize the project is not really about finishing.

There will always be another town, another road, another hoop waiting somewhere ahead.

What began as a simple idea has become one of the longest-running projects of my career, and it continues to evolve with every mile traveled.

Looking back at the ESPN feature now, I am grateful for the recognition. More importantly, I am grateful that the project continues to resonate with basketball fans, collectors, designers, and people who see something of themselves in these photographs.

Fifteen years later, I still stop for basketball hoops.

And I suspect I always will.

American Backcourts Prints and Photography

Many of the photographs from American Backcourts are available as fine art prints for collectors, basketball enthusiasts, designers, and anyone who appreciates the intersection of sport, culture, and the American landscape.

To learn more about available basketball hoop photography prints, exhibitions, or licensing opportunities, please visit the American Backcourts gallery or get in touch through the contact page.

View the American Backcourts gallery

View the basketball hoops print collection

Rusted basketball hoop and backboard seen from below against a cloudy sky

A rusted basketball hoop is photographed from below against a moving sky, emphasizing the weathered structures found throughout American Backcourts.

When Documentary Photography Meets Commercial Work: Andis Clippers and Barbershops of America

How Andis Clippers Licensed Images from the Barbershops of America Project

Most commercial photography assignments begin with a creative brief. This one started with a personal project.

For more than 15 years, I have been photographing barbershops across the United States as part of Barbershops of America—an ongoing documentary project focused on preserving a disappearing piece of American culture. What began as an excuse to meet interesting people and spend time in traditional barbershops eventually became a photography book, museum exhibitions, and a visual archive spanning all 50 states.

Along the way, the project also attracted the attention of companies within the barber industry, including Andis Clippers.

Why Brands Connect With Documentary Photography

The barber industry is built on authenticity.

For companies like Andis, the history of barbering matters. The people who use their products every day care deeply about the culture, traditions, and communities that surround the trade.

That is one reason documentary photography can be so valuable. Rather than creating an idealized version of barbering, documentary work shows the real environments where the craft takes place—the shops, the barbers, the customers, and the personalities that give the industry its identity.

Over the years, Barbershops of America has documented hundreds of shops ranging from century-old neighborhood institutions to the newer generation of traditional barbershops helping shape the future of the trade.

Andis ProFoil advertisement with a black and white Barbershops of America barber portrait

An Andis ProFoil advertisement pairs a Barbershops of America barber portrait with the brand’s campaign around real tools and barber culture.

From Personal Project to Industry Recognition

One of the most rewarding aspects of long-term projects is watching them take on a life of their own.

The photographs from Barbershops of America have been featured in books, exhibitions, magazines, and industry publications. As the project grew, brands within the barbering world began reaching out because the work reflected the same values that attracted them to the industry in the first place.

Andis Clippers licensed several photographs from the project for use in advertising and marketing materials, helping connect their products to the culture and heritage of barbering that inspired generations of professionals.

For me, the collaboration was meaningful because it demonstrated something I have long believed: personal projects often create opportunities that could never be planned in advance, and I’m proud to see my images become of barbershop advertising history.

The Value of Long-Term Photography Projects

When I first started photographing barbershops, there was no business plan attached to it.

The goal was simply to document an important piece of American culture before it disappeared.

Years later, the project has led to a published book, relationships throughout the barber industry, licensing opportunities, museum exhibitions, and countless friendships with barbers across the country.

That is one of the hidden benefits of long-term documentary work. The photographs become more than individual images. They become a body of work that companies, publications, museums, and audiences can connect with on a deeper level.

Andis Clippers advertisement using a black and white Barbershops of America photograph inside a traditional barber shop

Andis Clippers used this Barbershops of America photograph in a campaign focused on real barber shops, real tools, and the culture of the trade.

Barbershops of America Continues

Today, Barbershops of America remains an ongoing project.

Many of the shops photographed in the early years have since closed their doors, making the images an increasingly important historical record. At the same time, a new generation of barbers is redefining what a traditional barbershop can be while still preserving the sense of community that has always made these spaces special.

Whether the photographs are exhibited in a gallery, published in a book, or licensed by brands like Andis Clippers, the mission remains the same: documenting the people and places that keep barber culture alive.

Continue Exploring Barbershop Culture

Interested in seeing more from the project?

View the Barbershops of America gallery

Shop the Barbershops of America book and prints

Read more stories from traditional barbershops across the United States

→ Contact me regarding editorial or commercial licensing - rob@robhammerphotography.com

Andis Clippers advertisement showing a man seated in a traditional barber shop from Barbershops of America

Andis licensed this Barbershops of America image for an advertisement connecting its clippers with the real shops and people behind barber culture.