The last traces of winter have disappeared. Even though spring is barely a month old, the last few days have been unseasonably warm, and it looks like we're in for hot and dry summer in Melbourne. Just to cool things down, I'll give you a few images of the ice which I found on the shores of Lake Guy during out winter break in the high country. Chill out.
Not allowed /
Photography does not seem to be considered a harmless pursuit by many. While they may not technically see it as a crime, it is viewed with suspicion by building managers and security guards. I have been challenged on three occasions in the past fortnight while snapping the exterior of buildings from publicly accessible vantage points, including the street. I try not to get annoyed with such officious nonsense, but it's not easy. I'll generally stand my ground if in a public place, and not let it get in the way of getting the shot I'm after.
It's another matter inside buildings of course. I'll ask permission where appropriate and if there's someone to ask. One such occasion recently was inside Southern Cross station. The reality of the situation is that in this grand publicly owned space people, especially travellers and tourists, are taking pictures everywhere without seeking permission. However, on this occasion, I thought it best to ask as I wanted to use a tripod and take my time photographing the roof. I found the appropriate official, answered their questions (exactly how do you answer the "WHY" without sounding artistically pretentious???), and set about my task. As it turned out, it was worth the bother because, as I walked up the steps to the security office, I spotted a most curious arrangement of tables and stools at the cafe below. As for Mr Curly, he was part of a Spring Racing Carnival promotion. He was happy to strike a pose and I snapped him without bothering to seek the approval of the station poobahs. Please don't report me to the authorities.
Lost for words /
This is my first post for quite a while. I don't really have any excuse other than I just haven't felt particularly motivated to write. That's due in part to a personal project I've been working on for a while which has entailed quite a bit of writing and editing, and I'm a bit fed up with putting pen to paper.
I have, however, still been out taking photos. Hopefully these under and over views of the roof of Melbourne's Southern Cross Station will be worth the proverbial thousand words.
High country /
I’m currently holidaying in Victoria’s high country. Australia’s mountains are small by world standards - our highest peak, Mt. Kosciuszko, tops out at a little over 2,200 metres. I doubt anyone has perished scaling its dizzy heights as the peak is a relatively short walk from the nearest car park, so it’s not quite like climbing Everest from Base Camp. While we can’t compete with the world’s great mountain ranges, we have something that the Himalayas, Alps, Rockies and Andes don’t. Our high country flora is unique and distinctive.
The lower slopes boast one of the world’s tallest trees. The mountain ash – Eucalyptus regnans – has been known to grow to over 130 metres, although the tallest living specimen is just on 100 metres. Mighty forests of mountain ash once covered the lower slopes of the Victorian and Tasmanian high country, but logging has had a severe effect on their extent. Still, standing at the base of a stand these majestic giants one can’t help but be overwhelmed by their grandeur.
On the higher slopes, where snow and wind make life more difficult, the hardy snow gum – Eucalyptus pauciflora – is the dominant species. Much smaller than the mountain ash, their trunks are warped and twisted by the harsh conditions. Their peeling bark reveals yellow and red patches, giving them a distinctive mottled appearance which, together with their warped limbs, makes them great photographic subjects. Cold work, but worth the effort.
O dear... /
Last week's lunchtime photo walk headed to RMIT University's CBD campus with the topic of "chiaroscuro" planned. When we arrived, it was clear there was something more than usual lunchtime student activities going on. Turns out it was O-week - that hectic week of happenings when students old and new orient them selves to the coming academic term. The familiarize themselves with the campus, join clubs and societies, and meet friends, old and new.
This took me somewhat by surprise. In my day - admittedly long ago in another century - O-week happened in late February, just before the start of the academic year. Now, it seems, it happens at least twice a year. There were activities and entertainment for all, but the most popular appeared to be queuing for food. I managed to score a couple of cup cakes, but the long snaking queues for BBQ skewers, burgers and hot dogs were far too daunting. While I did keep an eye out for pictures which met the topic of the day, the myriad alternatives were far more appealing.
Down and out /
The weekly lunchtime photo walks at work have been back for about two months now. There's an enthusiastic core of intrepid walkers who show up week in and week out, rain or shine, plus a few others who occasionally rise to the challenge. It's an enjoyable way to spend some time, and we'll all get together a few days later and review the results of our efforts. The hardest part of the whole process has always been selecting a topic which offers some creative challenge, while still being achievable within an hour or so and a relatively short distance from our workplace.
I had resolved to pick a word at random and let people make of it whatever they would, but that hasn't eventuated yet. I have, however, tried to mix in a few topics that are a bit more conceptual. So far we've ranged from rectangles and doors through to convergence and minimalism. For the last couple of weeks we've been planning to do chiaroscuro, a technique utilizing strong contrasts between light and shadow, but the weather hasn't co-operated. This week we ended up with "DOWN", which turned out to be harder than it sounds. Hopefully the weather will be kinder this week.
Vanishing point /
Our brains are very good at picking up and following visual cues, and one of the strongest cues are converging lines. They literally act like funnels, drawing us into an image. Artists have long been aware of their power and used them to trap a viewer's attention and hold their interest. Our eyes will tend to follow the lines to their meeting point, and if there is something of interest at that point, so much the better.
Webb of intrigue /
Webb dock is the largest container facility in the Port of Melbourne. In 1986, a new rail line was built to connect the dock to the West Melbourne rail yards. The bends in the newly constructed line proved to be impractically sharp, and with pressure from the accelerating development of the Docklands, the line was decommissioned in 1992. Seeing an opportunity to utilize the existing infrastructure, a prize was offered as part of a larger public art project to convert the rail bridge for pedestrian and bicycle use.
The result was Webb Bridge, connecting Docklands Park at the northern end to the Yarra's Edge development on the south bank. The northern recycled portion had a few hoops thrown across it to add interest, but it is the sinuous extension at the southern end that really catches the eye. Representing a stylized Aboriginal eel trap, it almost feels alive as it curves down to the river bank. In the right light, from within and without, it offers endless photographic possibilities from almost any angle. These were shot at sundown, so I just need to work up the resolve to get there before dawn on a still morning. Not tomorrow though – perhaps the next day.
Much ado about not much /
Through most of last year, I organised weekly lunchtime photo walks with work colleagues. The concept was simple enough - pick a day, send out invitations, then wrack my brains for a suitable theme. While simple enough in principle, the selection of a theme often caused me a lot of trouble. It needed to be accessible, achievable within an hour or so over the course of a lunchtime, and not too repetitive despite being restricted in the area we could cover in the time available. Sometimes, inspiration eluded me, leading to some topics which were rather mundane or which just pain didn't work well. Even so, someone always managed to find interesting ways to interpret the theme, and over the course of the year we produced some real gems between us.
I had to stop the walks toward the end of the year as my back problems caught up with me. But now, after surgery, I'm getting back into the swing of things and the walks are back in business. I'm determined to be a bit more adventurous with themes this year, but the constraints imposed by the time limit are still proving to be a pain. A couple of weeks back, I set the group the task of "minimalism" , and it resulted in some really interesting images. Perhaps I shouldn't worry too much about being too abstract, and go with the idea I had of choosing a word at random from the dictionary, and letting people be as interpretive as they like.
This week's word is "convergence"
Hello, sailor /
The area to the west of Melbourne's CBD was originally a swamp. As Melbourne grew, its need for more extensive port facilities grew with it. The 1880s saw the Yarra River re-routed and widened, and the swamp became a sprawling network of docks, rail yards and industry. The docks thrived for 70 years till the rise of cargo containerization saw a gradual reduction in the need for port facilities, and large areas fell into disuse and disrepair.
By the 1980s, the docklands were considered a blight on the city, and the first plans to sell off the old swamp for redevelopment were put in place. Progress was slow, and for the next 10 years the area was most noted for its underground rave party scene. Things finally got moving in the late 90s, and office towers, apartment blocks, and even a new sports stadium sprang out of the ground. The area is still developing, and construction shows little sign of slowing down. The abundance of waterfront real estate has luxury apartment developers licking their chops, and even the docks are back in use. Only now, the berths are filled with luxury yachts.
Tickets please /
Melbourne has the world's largest tram network, comprising 250 kilometres of track, 500 trams and 2000 tram stops. With 200,000,000 passenger trips every year, they are the most used form of public transport after trains. Operating continuously since 1884 in one form or another, they have become an integral part of Melbourne's image and culture. Originally operating as horse drawn vehicles, they progressed through a complex (and presumably very dangerous) cable drawn mechanism, to the electric system drawing power from overhead wires still in use today. They are robust and reliable, and many of the venerable W-Class vehicles originating in the 20s are still in use today. They are so much a part of the road system that they have given rise to one of the most interesting traffic control measures in the world - the bizarre hook turn, designed to facilitate their co-existence with cars.
A good place to bone up on their history is the Melbourne Tram Museum, located in the old Hawthorn Tram Depot in Wallen Road, Hawthorn. It houses restored examples of many of the models to have graced the rails over the years, together with a large assortment of tram related ephemera. It's a bit of a squeeze, but it's interesting to see relics of an era when elegance of form was as important as function. There's lots of polished timber, ornate wrought iron, rich leather, and even the odd stained glass panel. Most people will come to see the the trams, but for me the greatest treasure in the place is Norm.
Volunteer guide Norm worked on the trams for nearly 50 years, as a tradesman, driver and unofficial historian. His encyclopaedic knowledge of not only the network, but also of individual trams, is nothing short of astounding. Every detailed story - and he has many, which he relates at length - includes the identification number of all the trams involved. His love of trams is evident, and no trip to the museum would be complete without following him around as he relives the glory days of these Melbourne icons.
A la mode /
Photographing musicians can be a real challenge. In a performance setting, lighting and getting good access without interfering with the performance are significant obstacles to overcome. Portraits of individuals or groups are another matter entirely. The challenge here is to capture the character and spirit of the performers when they aren't actually performing.
I was recently invited to accompany a friend who was going to shoot his son's band, Lazarus Mode. They had recently replaced their bass player and were looking to update their profile pictures. The chosen location was a dusty and cluttered warehouse which occasionally doubled as a TV studio. We managed to conjure a few interesting shots, but decided there was more promise outside. The members all tried to maintain an air of cool indifference to the process, but occasionally let their guard drop and showed they were enjoying being the focus of attention. They're a charismatic bunch, particularly the lead singer, Jake. They frequently play around Melbourne, so why not try to catch a gig. You can find out where they're playing at www.lazarusmode.com .
