|
|
|
Monday, 16 March 2009 00:19 |
|
I visited Canberra for four days to take photos to NSW Tourism's specs. It wasn't a commissioned shoot but I ended up selling them enough photos to make it worth my while. Trying to fit a large number of good photos into four days isn't much fun - you're either doing reconnaisance or racing from location to location during periods of good light - daily work hours of 5am to 11pm. On one of those days I was at the Australian War Memorial, in the middle of the day (bad for light except for some cloud cover) and without a shot in mind. Standing there wondering whether I was wasting my time, a dignified veteran arrived with his grandson and kindly agreed to be involved. Between busloads of tourists and periods of harsh sunlight we captured these two images over perhaps half an hour. I connect with both of these images, particularly that of the grandson whose benign expression and direct eye contact are more powerful than I could have hoped. So powerful that only now - after ten years - have I realised that his right hand is clenched. I never left his eyes long enough to see it. Originally I tried to photoshop out the brand name on the grandson's sweater but (having failed to make the end result look natural) I realised that they link to the veteran's war medals - there's certainly a visual link and one could argue that as this veteran's life is (no doubt) defined by his military service and brotherhood with those who served, ours is defined by commercialism and brand tribalism. You might say that we have been made free by those who served, only to enslave ourselves in other ways. I remain frustrated that in this second image we couldn't get a background free of tourists - they came by the busload, each new group arriving before the last had meandered out of view. After unsuccessfully waiting at length for a clear background I felt I'd crossed the bounds of politeness in using this gentleman's time, thanked him and watched him walk with his grandson into the war memorial.
|
|
|
Monday, 02 March 2009 03:00 |
|
In 2003 we drove from Broome, Western Australia to Darwin in the Northern Territory. Along the way we visited friends in Derby who live near an expansive mud flat subject to the world's second largest tide. They also have a decent front fence "to keep the crocodiles out", but I think they might have been pulling my leg. In the late afternoon we wandered out onto the mud flat which had been dry for a number of months, giving it this cracked appearance. I took this image looking straight down with a 28mm lens - it's as wide a view as I could take using my 6'4" frame. Then the tide came in - at walking pace. We walked with the tide for a while until the sun set and went home for a sensational barramundi dinner from the restaurant on the pier. |
|
Monday, 16 February 2009 13:38 |
'Hammer' was the last shot at the end of a long and, at times, stressful day. The last location was Granville, apparently only metres from where the Granville rail disaster took place. By this time the light was fading fast - fortunately I had purchased a ridiculously long power cord the day prior and the very obliging owner of an adjacent workshop allowed me to power my studio flash unit. Originally the image was of just the model and building behind (no hammer) and it lacked the strength I was looking for. Then the word 'perestroika' hit me and I went back to ask the very obliging workshop owner for 'a large tool, preferably a hammer'.
As this image was for my portfolio, I had arranged a contra deal with the modelling agency - use of a model in return for images for her portfolio. Proudly showing the agent the final images, I found that she disliked all of them except one - after a day of shooting 100 frames of 6x7 film I had, to my embarrassment, taken only one of her smiling. |
|
Monday, 09 February 2009 00:45 |
|
My wife and I visited Bryce Canyon, Utah on a drive from Santa Fe to LA - what's left of Route 66. I had failed to set our alarm successfully (on our only morning in the park) and as a result we slept in, missing the moment that the sun breached the horizon. All was not lost, however, and we spent the morning taking in the canyon in its morning glory. Given the depth of the amazing 'hoodoo' formations, I was trying to take all of my images in stereo - a process of taking two images from slightly different perspectives on transparency (slide) film to provide a 3D view. When done correctly the effects are stunning - holding the two slides up to your left and right eyes in separate slide viewers gives the feeling of looking at a miniature model of the subject. I was looking for a 'spark' for an image and found this ranger who was on his radio, advising workers on the track below of approaching tourists. At the time I was mostly annoyed that he wouldn't stand still long enough for me to take a stereo pair and almost didn't take the shot. It turns out that this was the best image of our visit. And yes, the colours are real. |
|
Monday, 02 February 2009 12:24 |
|
A model on a front end loader. It's one of my favourite portfolio images, probably because I attempted to make a dramatic image of contrasts without crossing over into absurdity (and felt that I succeeded). It's also because as I look at it there's nothing I want to change - as a perfectionist this is a rare pleasure. Even without a client looking over your shoulder shooting this kind of scene can be stess-inducing - there's a model, assistant/makeup artist and site staff waiting for instruction and you have 15 minutes to find a scene, set up, take the shot (including backups, variations, etc), pack up and leave to do it all again somewhere else. In this case the concept came quickly but the details were difficult - the hair on her cheek, the stance with more weight on the forward foot, where she should look, the height of the tripod to locate the height of the rubble in the background, etc. I'd show you the location of the worksite but as you'll see from other images in this series, we took images only metres from fast-moving, rock-crushing machinery and I dare say that this was not in full compliance with work safety requirements. I can tell you, however, that only security clearance required to enter a dangerous worksite is a tall model in a short black dress. James Bond movies are not as far-fetched as you think. |
|
Monday, 26 January 2009 00:00 |
|
I love being alone late at night in the city - carrying 15 kilos of gear around for hours on end is the only downside. I noticed the beautiful light on one set of columns in Sydney Town Hall vestibule one night and spent the next hour or two setting up this shot under the watchful eye of a security camera. This time of finding and setting up an image is precious to me - it's an opportunity to dwell only in that moment and have respite from my brain's constant connection of ideas. Also I find that photography (and, occasionally, sketching) gives me that 'permission' to sit and contemplate an object or space for long periods of time, permission that I would not otherwise grant myself. Most of the setup time was taken in selecting the best column, the best angle, optimising depth of field and then carefully lining up the camera to make it truly vertical - while it's straightforward to rotate and skew images on a computer, you lose significant image area in the process. If you went to see this in real life, you'd be disappointed - the columns are a dirty brown, the lights a horrible orange and there was a small amount of graffiti on the column that I needed to photoshop out. Through the magic of black and white film, however, it looks strong, pure and timeless. |
|
Monday, 19 January 2009 11:03 |
|
As soon as I saw the overgrown grass on my recce, I knew that this was the image I wanted to take. At the time it represented potential - a young person dreaming about what their life would be like. Now it reminds me of the beautiful moments in life that are transitory - the perfect afternoon at the beach, your wedding day, your first visit to Paris ... moments that can be captured in images but never replicated. The model was 13 at the time of this shoot - right in the demographic of Dolly magazine who bought an image in this series for $200 back in '96. I don't know if it was ever published but if it was, I hope the advice in the article was better than is normally the case. |
|
|
|
|
Page 2 of 2 |
|
|
