Colour in December Pt 4 - Outback

I had the pleasure of travelling to Central Queensland for Christmas this year. I wish I had taken more photos (and let’s face it, who doesn’t), but for me at least it was more a situation of learning more about the environment I was in and the people that inhabit the space moreso than photographing everything.

In saying that, I did manage to take a few photos.

This is big sky country. The land is obviously ancient, the climate harsh, the people who farm the land warm and inviting.

Bottle trees (above, below), dot the rangelands which were previously dense scrub. They stand as imposing sentinels.

Some aspects of this environment ring closer to western USA than Australia, like this cactus (above) and the old yards at dusk (below)

Originally built between 1880-1885, the Dingo fence is over 6000km of fencing with the aim of preventing dingoes moving into the fertile south east of Australia. It’s still actively maintained to this day.

Colour In December Pt 3 - Aquarium

The Solitary Islands Aquarium sits a few hundred metres inland from Charlesworth Bay, near Coffs Harbour. Small by any standards, the aquarium run by Southern Cross University is a place I’ve been to many times, but never ceases to inspire. Shooting here is never the main intention but is very easy to do, with a wide array of subjects to photograph in a small space.

I’m still finding colour very hard to work with. It’s not a natural process for me at all - every process I do from start to finish is with a black and white photo in mind. Persevering with colour for a month is a good problem to have - I’m testing my boundaries, what I like, what I want to do with my work, how I will continue in the future.

Colour in December Pt 1 - Brisbane

I don’t not shoot colour - I just prefer to shoot black and white. It’s a thing I’ve been doing for so long now that I don’t even need to think about it. I see scenes and photos with the final black and white image in mind. So when fellow photographers Skye and Teneille dared me to shoot colour for an entire month, I couldn’t say no. Travelling to Brisbane last weekend was the perfect chance to get shooting out of my comfort zone. And the truth is, colour is hard - editing colour is a whole different kettle of fish to the normal process, and things take longer (for me at least).

Turns out I spend a lot of time looking up in cities. Also the first and last shot were taken with the 35mm f/2.8 Nikkor-S. The others were shot with the XF 18mm f/2, and all shots wereactually taken with the X-Pro 3.

The Myth of the Stealthy Leica

Originally posted on jonnyenzyme.tumblr.com

If you’re a person who sometimes uses a camera you’ve undoubtedly heard the phrase “Leicas are a stealthy camera”. You’ve probably heard or read it so many times that it’s just common sense – if you want a stealthy camera, get a Leica. Heck, the internet can’t be wrong! Henri Cartier-Bresson swore by it!

I, for one, don’t think this to be the case. Now before you go grabbing your flaming torches and sharpening your pitchforks, please remember this:

I am going off my personal experiences in shooting a range of cameras in a range of places.

For starters, I usually wander about the streets of the town I live in taking photos. It’s really quite a small place with only 25,000 odd inhabitants. I’ve also lugged a pile of camera gear around places as large as Sydney to quite literally the middle of absolutely nowhere. In a city, you generally have the ability to lug around pretty much any camera gear as there are so many people that no one really takes too much time to pay attention to those around them. People sometimes notice what you’re carrying but are usually far gone before anything happens.  However in smaller country locations people will take notice of you when you’re walking down the street, no matter what camera you are carry (or not, as it might be). As a rule, country folk take note of the people in their general vicinity whilst there are far too many people in a city to take note of everyone. Despite this, people generally still take notice of the fact you have a camera, regardless of whether you’re using it or not.

The second you look like you’re going to use a camera, you attract more attention regardless of the type, especially when you look like you’re going to take photos of people. This (or anything else here) shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. I for one don’t really like strangers putting cameras in front of my face. Hell, I usually don’t like it when someone I know points a camera at me. If you’re in a big, populated place, the person you’re shooting tends not to care (most likely due to the simple fact of their being piles and piles of people and once you pass that person you’ll probably not see them again), but if you’re in a more sparsely populated place people can get really offended by it, and can get quite aggressive. Thankfully this has only really happened to me once – and I was shooting a Leica. It may have been the fact that I didn’t use my Jedi-Leica mind tricks on the person being photographed. It may have been that the spirit of Cartier-Bresson had left me for that moment. But it definitely did happen.

Fast forward a couple of years and I’ve developed a new theory about the magical ninja powers of the Leica that might just make sense:

The Leica is not a stealthy camera. It’s a non-threatening camera.

The modern perception of a ‘pro’ camera these days is a DSLR. Big, black, blobby things with hugemungous lenses, usually accompanied by brand name straps and the magical ability of getting all the good shots. They’re marketed (and often used) like weapons, their users embodied with a hunter-like mindset, where nothing but getting the shot matters. But as you probably know, not all pro cameras are like this and not all big black blobby things are DSLRs. Even so, DSLRs are considered the pro camera.

Now, take a camera like a Leica. Small body, small lens, no prism bump – not much that links it to a DSLR at all. In Joe Public’s eyes it isn’t a pro camera at all. Therefore the likelihood of the photographer getting a good shot is not anywhere near as high as one with a DSLR. Hell, they’re probably interested if you’re going to get a good photograph at all with it. On more than one occasion during model shoots I’ve been asked if the rangefinder I had would take the quality of photos the model was after, and whether or not it was a toy. It’s not because the models were stupid or uneducated, it’s just that it doesn’t fit the concept of a pro camera (and therefore good photographs).

This isn’t just the case for Leicas. This is pretty much the case with any non-big-black-blobby-thing. I’ve used 6x6 TLRs on the street and no one really bats an eyelid (and if they do, it’s trying to work out what the hell I’m doing). The same thing goes for a behemoth like a 4x5 Speed Graphic – if anyone comes up and talks to you they’ve got a smile on their face and a whole pile of questions to ask because they don’t believe you can still be shooting such old cameras. Most of the time people just leave you alone.

So, in order to try and wrap this convoluted mess of an argument up, a Leica is not a particularly stealthy camera (especially when you compare it to cameras like the X100/S/T). It has the benefit of being seen as a non-professional piece of equipment in the eyes of the public, and as such you the photographer are not a professional and are nowhere near as threatening. Even so, take a photo of a person in the wrong mood (or during the wrong phase of the moon) and you’ll undoubtedly get told to “Get that F*&king Camera out of my face. That’s Illegal.”

Plus it’s always nice to ask permission to take someone’s photo anyway.

Twenty-sixth of December

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Every year, almost like clockwork, the short blackberry season starts at the farm. Once picking starts, the warm humid air fills with the strong scent of fairy floss as the sun ripened fruit often bursts at the slightest touch.

Our hands quickly become stained crimson with the juice from the fruit. The sun beats down on our straw hats as we methodically work down the rows, hunting for the dark fruit that often only venture as far as our mouths instead of the buckets. Our hands will be stained daily for the next few weeks so that in the depths of winter we can be reminded of the warm sunny days amongst the canes, the air sweet and filled with life.