Gemma at Two

This is my gorgeous niece, Gemma, in April 2006. At two years and three months, she already knew exactly what to do in front of the camera, and, like many children, wanted a toy included. Barney, a purple and green dinosaur, is her favourite. Too young to know that most names are gender-specific, she thinks Barney is a girl. During role-play, Gemma pretends to be Kerriann, her mother and my sister, while Barney is a little girl who gets plenty of telling off!

Contrary to appearances, these images aren't posed. In fact, they were taken during and just after bath time.

Tennis, No Cucumber Sandwiches

Justin has started playing tennis with friends on Tuesday nights. Games are so casual, they often forget to keep score.

Top: The cord between the flash and camera came undone, resulting in this available light shot on a slow shutter speed. This is another example of a mistake that turns out to become a favourite.

Centre: Dave Willersdorf and Peter Buckman between sets. I love mixing flash with a super slow shutter speed (between half and one-eighth of a second) to make images that are at once frozen and full of movement.

Below: Justin serving. I both like and dislike this image. The fingers spread up to the night sky look like a choreographed dance move and the Slazenger sign is well placed. But I wish I could see more of his face.

Wasteland

In 2006, Canberra photographers were invited to explore the theme of “wasteland” with reference to their local landscape, physical and/or emotional. The results were exhibited at Belconnen Gallery from 14 to 24 November.

The project is part of a wider initiative by the MV Network, a group of arts facilities spread between Western Sydney, Canberra and Queanbeyan. In 2008, works from the Belconnen show will combine with others produced by artists living between Western Sydney and Canberra to the same theme. These will be shown at the Casula Powerhouse in Sydney.

The following artist statement explains the approach to my two photographs, “Goongarline’s Staircase” and “The Well of Grief”.

From nineteenth-century pastoral prosperity to modern brick suburbs still surrounded by paddocks dotted with cows — my interpretation of Wasteland explores Canberra’s Gungahlin district, past and present, through the story of an early settler’s grief.

Long before Australia had a national capital, when the land that became Canberra was a part of New South Wales known as the Limestone Plains, George Thomas Palmer employed William Davis Junior to manage his property, Ginninderra Estate. Fairytale romance followed — Davis married Palmer’s daughter, Susan Adriana, and became “squire” of the property on his father-in-law and former employer’s death.

Davis transformed Ginninderra Estate into an agricultural showpiece and community hub — he hosted balls with fireworks, and his paddocks were filled with plump sheep, fine horses and tall crops. About the time Ginninderra became a small town, Davis bought more land and built a house named Goongarline, from which “Gungahlin” derives.

The dream of gentrified rural success was shattered, however, on 26 February 1877 when Davis’s nephew, Henry William Earnest Palmer, tumbled from a horse named Gungahline, another Goongarline derivative. Heart-broken by the death of a man he considered a son, Davis instantly sold his horses and land, and turned his back on the district.

This is the story of fertile farmland becoming an emotional wasteland. Curiously, considerable portions of Davis’ land remains barely used today, waiting, it appears, for urban development.

The CSIRO now occupies Goongarline, better known as Gungahlin Homestead, which I have used as a backdrop for exploring Davis’ grief and Henry Palmer’s death. I have used an Anny camera (a Diana clone), which gives a distorted, dreamy quality through light leaks and a plastic lens, and created a sense of memory and fragility with ghostly images in unexpected places — a horse watches from the homestead’s grand entry, while a man grieves by a water pump, now walled up and dry.

Friends, Family and Available Light

It’s rare to see a 50mm lens on my trusty Pentax K1000 camera — I much prefer the energy and distortion of a wide angle lens. There are, however, moments when I fall back on convention, usually when taking “flattering” portraits of family and friends. I have a soft spot for catching people indoors using natural light. Diffused side-light from a window glows with romance or theatre — I love drama, so rarely bounce light to fill any shadows. Sometimes, careful treatment of available electric light can create surprisingly fresh and unaffected results.

These two images were taken under a mix of natural and electric light at the Niagara Café in Gundagai. Arms crossed and eyebrow raised, my friend JB assumes the pose of a university lecturer. I say “assumes” because, while this may indeed be his profession, I’m most used to seeing him with a beer in one hand, a play station console in the other, and a bag of barbecue-flavoured crisps and tub of French onion dip nearby. His ultra-cool Ray-Ban sunglasses hint that all is not as it seems.

Like most photographers, I sneak off when other people bring out their cameras, which is why I’m usually invisible in family albums. Every now and then, however, I set the exposure, choose a location and let Justin snap away. So here I am in my signature red, with hands cradling my face. Hands reveal personality — in this case, a sweet fragility — which is why I try to relax people until they fall into their everyday, comfortable poses or photograph them doing an activity.