On Publication

A little while ago, just after the Newtown by Night exhibition closed, I was discussing what I'd like to do with my photos. One of the things I came up with at that time was that I'd like to see them in a print publication somewhere. I set myself a deadline to work to - I wanted to see something of mine in a magazine before the end of the year.


Opening Night, Newtown by Night

And, thanks to Kay, the co-ordinator of the Contemporary Division of the Australian Photography Society, it's happened. Selected highlights from Newtown by Night are printed in this month's Image magazine, the APS journal. It's only available to APS members, sadly, but that's still almost two and a half thousand people who've been sent my printed work - hooray! Thanks again Kay for suggesting I submit the work!

The next challenge, I think, will be to start entering some photographic competitions. I don't have any great hopes of winning anything - my style is somewhat understated, and I dislike most of the currently fashionable looks for images, but I want to enter some contests regardless. I'd also like another exhibition - I have a body of work called 'Tales from the Tropics' I'd like to see somewhere, and I'm considering putting a book together some time next year. And of course I have several ongoing photographic projects I'd like to do more with.


Tales from the Tropics - Trishaw time out, Penang

And I really, really need to re-design the website so it's better organised.

Of course, I'm also planning on starting a major non-photographic commitment next year as well, so I'm not sure where I'll find time for all of this, but I'll manage somehow. Wish me luck!

In Progress - Japan

I don't know if I've talked about going through the editing process before. At the moment, I'm just about done editing the Japan photos, and going through them has brought to light a few interesting things - well, I found them interesting, anyway. So to sweeten the deal, here's a few early previews from Tokyo while I muse about subjectivity. Feel free to chip in at the end!

I don't often like my work when I'm editing it. Something about the process of working on the images makes me see all their faults, and none of the art. Every photo I look at suddenly seems boring, flat, and pointless, and I get tempted to dump the whole lot and take up staring at grass or some other non-creative pastime. (Much like my blog posts, really - they always sound so dull when I'm writing them!)



Tokyo - Shinjuku crowds

Even the images for Newtown by Night didn't impress me at first look. They grew on me over time - I suspect I had to let go of how I thought they should look before I could appreciate how they did look. It was a good lesson to try and see things as they are, rather than what I think they are, and something I would like to be better at.

I've learned over the years, though, to let the pictures sit for a while after I've edited them, then come back to see what I have. Another thing I learned from the very dedicated & talented Lisa Hogben is to group the images and watch them through as a slideshow a few times, to get more of a feel for how they look, and how they flow together.


Breakfast in Asakasa

So that's what I'll be doing over the next few weeks - getting comfortable with the images, and working out what to do with them, and where they'll go. I've also arranged to swap some curation with Xole - I'll be looking through a group of her recent work, and in return she's kindly agreed to sort through my Japan photos. I don't think I'm the best person to curate work, as my taste is a little individual, but since she was kind enough to agree to look at my stuff, how could I refuse?

How do you approach your creative projects? Do you like the outcomes? I think most of us are harder on ourselves than anyone else would be - how do you deal with that?


Harajuku Hip

Pain, In Progress

Yes, I'm still here. Been doing a few new things - learning to sew, so I can indulge my fondness for Victorian-era clothing, and starting to learn to do Chinese/Japanese brush painting (very, very badly - I can barely do a recognisable straight line). I've also discovered that making sourdough bread makes me feel calmer, happier, and more creative. Odd, yes?

But most of the reason I've been so quiet is a mix of stress and pain. Work has been remarkably stressful, and is only now starting to return to a live-able level of stress, and the cold has made the pain in my feet very difficult to deal with. It's hard to realise, even when you're living it, just how much pain drains you, and makes it next to impossible to be creative. When work is draining you past your endurance levels, and pain takes them even lower, life becomes a rather depressing trudge.

I had hoped that Spring warmth would improve things a bit - at least take the cold out of my joints, and let me walk a bit more. But as anyone in Sydney would know, the weather has perversely turned cold, damp, and rainy; just the weather that makes the arthritis worst. Ouch.

So I'm currently typing from bed; the warmest, flattest place available. Occasionally I venture out to do things that can't be accomplished from under a doona, then head back again when my feet start to complain too much.

Since I haven't any shiny new completed projects to share, I thought I might tell you about some of the things I have in progress, instead. I have several series' that are slowly accumulating images, some of them at least five years old. There's one in particular I'd like to talk about today, since I feel very much like a creaky tree myself - Wooden.


Forking trunk

A tree against the sky possesses the same interest, the same character, the same expression as the figure of a human. - Georges Rouault

I started this series back before I owned a digital camera, so all these images are film. I'd like to continue it with film; it seems to suit the images. There's a few ideas I'm slowly getting my head around with the series. Part of it is me coming to terms with my body - it seems odd to feel uncomfortable with my own physical being, after all. And part of it has to do with the way we see ourselves reflected in nature and the things around us; the way we'll look at the shape of a tree and see ourselveds. And when you get down to it, we are all interconnected, which I think may be an underlying idea in a lot of my work, but more explicitly part of this.


Entwining

I need to re-scan these images - my old scanner was pretty crappy, and a lot of the subtlety of the negatives is lost here. And I'd like some more images to round out the set; I want to see breasts and thighs, ankles and hands, as well as privates. It will have to wait for summer, though, until I can feel a little more anchored in my own body, without being overwhelmed.

So, what do you think? Click here to browse the rest of the series, as it currently is, and make sure to post or email an opinion. Would you like to see more of my in progress projects?


Openings

Review - Ichikawadaimon

I've been reading a little photo book recently, after finding a review of it on The Exposure Project. Called Ichikawadaimon, it's been put together by LA-based photographer Ye Rin Mok, and is gentle, quiet look at the eponymous Japanese town Ichikawadaimon. There are no words, just seemingly straightforward pictures of a Japan I also caught glimpses of when I was there last May.



A lot of the tourist-style photos I see coming out of Japan empahise the noise and glitter of the country, which wasn't an aspect I saw coming through while I was there. Two weeks is not nearly enough to claim to even begin to understand a country, but the country I saw reminded me far more of Ye Rin Mok's ordinary-semming, unfetishised photographs than the hypercoloured hysteria so many other photographers bring back.

Recommended!

The limited edition book is for sale on Etsy. My copy is #51 - I'm not sure how many will still be left.

And yes, my photos from Japan are coming!

Birthdays, People & Photography

It was my birthday last Saturday, so we went down to the Chinese Gardens in Darling Harbour; one of my favourite places (anyone who knows me will tell you how excited I get about birthdays. There may have been bouncing on the spot and excited hand flapping). My favourite photos from that afternoon were portraits, which, along with conversations we had that day, started me thinking about people and portrait photography.

I'm not a big fan of posed portraits. I can always see too clearly the muscle tenstion that comes from an awareness of being watched, and the masks we assume when someone else is making our portraits. There's nothing wrong with posed portraits, mind you - they're just not my style, and they're not what I'm interested in seeing of people. (This may also explain my dislike of advertising and most stock photography - it all seems so artificial.)

For me, I much prefer to see people comfortable being themselves. Not necessarily unaware of the camera - I'm no voyeur, taking pleasure from snatching illicit images, just people feeling naturally comfortable and unguarded.

The images in this post were all made that afternoon while we basked in the early-spring warmth. One of the reasons that was suggested for my ability to have people feling comfortable around a camera was that I'm so frequently waving it around that people quickly grow accustomed to it, and forget it's there, even while I'm overtly using it to photograph them. There's probably some truth in that.

I think there's a bit more to it, though - I've seen plenty of people with a camera always to their eye, and other people still freeze as soon as it turns towards them. I suspect that a large part of it is that when I'm using a camera, I rarely think of it as a separate thing, but as an extension of myself, and photographing is as natural and unselfconscious as smiling, or as seeing.

It also has to do with trust. I'm not interested in making people ridiculous, or capturing some secretive image that strips them bare, revealing my superiority as photographer over the unwiling and passive subject. I like and care about the people I make images with, and would far rather share than snatch - and I'd like to think they'd know that.

So, some portraits from a sunny afternoon. Since I wanted to show more images than usual, they're thumbnail sized; feel free to click through and browse the gallery. And also make sure to comment if you have an opinion on people photography, whether street or portrait, or anything else.

Art for art's sake?

I've been pondering recently - since the exhibition, at least -what to do with the images I create. Making art is one thing, but if no-one ever sees it, what then? If art falls in a forest, does anybody care?

I photograph because I want to, because I'm driven to, and because there are things I see that I want to comment on or share. I also believe very strongly that art (craft, imagery, call it what you will), is ideally a part of life, not something separate and sacred. There's definitely a place for complicated, self-referential, obscurely-idiomed art that needs a 4-year degree to understand it - but it's not my place. I'm really not into artsclusivity.

What, then, should I do with my work? It looks better in person than onscreen, I've noticed - there's a certain amount of presence and depth that doesn't seem to come out of a monitor as it does a print. I'd like another showing somewhere, although I'm still trying to work out where (and where is likely to take me). I'd also really like to have work published; if anyone knows a good photography/art publication that they think would like my stuff, let me know.

So, two questions that I'd love to hear comments on, please:


1. If you make things, what do you do with the finished product?

2. Is there anywhere you'd like to see my stuff? Or any suggestions for how to get it there?


(Yes, technically that's three questions. I know.)

Comment and post your answers, or email if you'd prefer, and I'll discuss the responses in a later post. Thanks!

Cut up - Mat cutter glory, and a cry for help

Ok, so I promised pictures of my shiny, new, easy-to-use mat cutter.



Here it is in all its packaged glory. As you can see, it is indeed both shiny AND new. It was recommended by the person at my favourite art supplies place (Art on King) as the one the owner used to do her matting, which I thought was a pretty good testimonial.



Here it is naked on my cutting mat (saucy, yes?). Doesn't it look professional? I had an image to matt up shortly before the exhibition ended, so I pulled it out to give it a trial run.

Unfortunately, I can't seem to work out how it works! I tried multiple methods of putting in the blades; I even read the instructions multiple times, but no luck! I ended up using my old, dodgy cutter to frame the picture; at least I know how to use it.



So if anyone knows how to use a Dexter mat cutter, let me know!