This Contact sheet represents the many trees around my home and the many ways they can be photographed, taken at different times of days and with two separate lenses. While this theme shows promise, after taking some photos near the steelworks I realised how inspired I am by industrial landscape photos, I may persue this theme for my final project.
One thing this class has taught me is the value of slowing down. When I first started taking photos, I was in the habit of snapping a bunch of shots and hoping one would turn out alright. But the more I’ve worked on intentional projects, the more I’ve realised how much better things turn out when I take time to actually look around.
Even during practice shoots, I’ve noticed that when I pause for a few minutes, to watch how shadows shift, or to notice something small in the background, the photos improve. It’s like slowing down helps you actually see. Not just what’s in the frame, but how everything connects: the textures, the colours, the way something is lit. I’m starting to spend more time standing still before I even touch the camera.
It’s a simple thing, but I think slowing down is part of becoming a better photographer. You stop chasing the photo and start noticing it instead.
After my revelation of industrial influence, I decided I would return to Port Kembla as there was one building I used to pass everyday on the way to high school, its lovingly called "The SERVO" by the local community. Its a place with its own culture, if you come on weekends you'll see it filled with music, film or even art galleries. But to me, its always looked "iconic". I felt this was the most personal and concentrated depiction of pop culture I could photograph. I think I will keep the Port Kembla area and its industrial influences in mind for my final submission.
Robert Adams, American photographer (born 1937)
I am inspired by Robert Adams distinct contrasting style, providing an almost menacing feeling to classically comfortable places or objects.
Stephen Shore, American photographer (born 1947)
I love Stephen Shore's photographs. Which give viewers a feeling of deja-vu, without the viewers even needing to have seen these locations, you can tell he sees these locations with a selective, comfortable style.
Edward Burtnsky, Canadian photograpgher (Born 1955)
Edward Burtnsky's Huge sweeping landscapes make anything feel alien, a feeling I love in any media. I think a pattern I'm noticing is, some of my favourite landscape photographers take photos that look as if they are stills from films. Maybe this mixed media stlye is something I should look into after this class
I have been continually inspired by the industrial energy of Port Kembla, as I've said before, it feels uneven, familiar, yet entirely alien. In this series I focused on structures, vehicles, and moments of nature. these themes are what I plan to a even better effect in my final project.
Editing has been one of the trickier parts of the process for me. Not in the software sense, but in choosing which photos to actually keep. I end up with a bunch of images that all feel kind of similar at first glance, but the more I look at them, the more differences start to stand out.
What I’ve learned is that sometimes the photo that’s technically perfect isn’t the one that hits hardest. I’ve had shots that are slightly crooked or not perfectly exposed, but they capture a mood or a moment that feels right. And then I’ve had clean, sharp ones that feel kind of empty.
The hard part is not second-guessing yourself too much. There’s no rule for what makes a photo worth keeping, but I’m learning to trust that gut feeling when one stands out. Editing isn’t just about picking the best photo, it’s about figuring out what you want the image to say.
I was sitting on a bench after my visit to the NSW Art Gallery, facing the Twin Ponds in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. It was early afternoon, not too hot, and the sun was out but mostly filtered through the trees around the water. The bench I was on had a small plaque on it that read, “Steven & Mark. We two boys together clinging.” I didn’t know who they were, but the quote felt really personal, almost like it was marking something private in a public space.
Looking down, the water was calm. Ducks were cruising around slowly, leaving soft ripples behind them. You could see reflections of the trees and sky in the pond, but they’d get broken up every time a duck swam past or the wind shifted slightly.
Looking up, the trees weren’t super dense, but they were tall enough to give the whole area a bit of shade. The light was soft, not full sun, which made it easier to sit and just look around. You could hear people walking nearby, some talking, others just passing through. There was also the sound of birds, not just the ducks but smaller birds calling from the trees. It wasn’t silent, but it also wasn’t loud. Just that usual park hum.
There wasn’t much wind, but every now and then a small breeze would come through and shift the leaves a bit. I could smell damp earth and something slightly floral, maybe from one of the nearby garden sections. It was subtle but noticeable if you paid attention.
I looked up a bit about the Twin Ponds afterwards and found out that one of them is part of a memorial for the Forgotten Australians, people who experienced institutional or out-of-home care during the last century. That added a whole other layer to the space. Sitting there, it had felt peaceful, but knowing that history gave it some weight. I think places like that can hold both peace and memory at the same time. You don’t always notice it right away, but it changes how you think about where you’re sitting.
It made me more aware of how the space was designed, and how people move through it without always knowing what’s been placed there or why. It reminded me to look a bit closer, and that even a bench or a pond in a quiet garden can mean something more than it first seems.
Project Issue / Concept
For this project, I plan to explore the relationship between industry and nature, especially how industrial structures sit within everyday spaces. I’ve always been drawn to objects that feel too big or too rigid for their surroundings. The smokestack near Port Kembla station stands out because it’s something I saw almost every day during high school, but never really looked at properly. It feels like the perfect subject, familiar but strange.
Significance to Me
This idea matters to me because the location is personal. I grew up around it, and it’s tied to my memories of catching the train to school. I want to return to this place and photograph it with a new perspective. The project gives me a reason to look at how places like this shape the way we see and feel, in a new lens (literally).
Landscape Category
The project will fall under industrial landscape photography, but it’ll also lean into elements of psychogeography. It won’t be about wide, scenic views, but more about observing the way this industrial structure interacts with its environment and what kind of feeling that creates.
References
1. Edward Burtynsky – His work will influence how I think about scale and detail. I like how he photographs industrial sites in a way that’s both structured and unsettling.
2. Robert Adams – His approach to quiet, ordinary spaces is something I want to reflect in my photos. He’s good at creating mood through simplicity, and that’s something I’ll aim for.
3. Stephen Shore – His influence will be the strongest. I’m drawn to the way he captures everyday moments and makes them feel important through framing and colour. I’ll use his work as a guide for how to approach the space without overcomplicating it.
Site and Connection to Country
I’ll be shooting around the Port Kembla train station. It’s an industrial area with a long history, and the smokestack has always been a dominant feature of that landscape. My personal connection makes the location more meaningful, it’s a place I’ve passed by hundreds of times, and now I want to slow down and properly look at it.
Shooting Plan
Location: Port Kembla station area
Timing: Week 10 , in the late afternoon. The light at that time should add contrast and create a more dramatic feel without being too harsh or washed out.
Approach: Nikon DSLR camera, no artificial lighting. I’ll focus on strong angles, different perspectives, and weather conditions that add to the atmosphere.
As I plan this project, I keep coming back to the idea of memory. I’ve walked past the Port Kembla smokestack more times than I can count. It was always there in the background when I got off the train for school, but I never really looked at it. Now that I’m preparing to photograph it, I’m seeing it completely differently.
I’m curious how much memory will actually show up in the photos. Like, can you feel that kind of familiarity in an image? I don’t want to make the shots overly sentimental or anything, but I do think the personal connection will affect how I frame things. The smokestack isn’t just a structure to me, it’s tied to a place and time that I experienced almost daily. I think that’s going to come through, even in subtle ways. That connection is one of the reasons I chose this site in the first place. It feels like the right balance of personal and industrial.
This collection of images centers around a smokestack that has sat across from the port kembla train station for as long as I can remember. Every day of high school at Five Islands Secondary College, I would get off the train and this smokestack was there towering over me. I returned to this area to take industrial centered landscape photos and was immediately drawn to the smoke stack. I've always been inspired by industrial centered media as elements of it sometimes feel almost alien, the rigid angles surrounded by natural elements, it almost feels threatening. The 4 photos are all from separate angles, but each of them show something new with the surrounding objects, and the darkening of the sky illustrates a certain journey.
1.
I start the collection with a bold focus on the foreground, featuring a rusted “no entry” sign, emblazoned with details of barbed wire below. These elements make the background feel forbidden, it could almost make the viewer wonder, are we being fenced off from this object, or is it being held back from us?
2.
The second photo is yet again providing a feeling of impending danger, the way the smokestack and the spherical building tower over the viewer, and the small sliver of nature just below, again feels almost threatening. These two featured structures show signs of aging, showing just how long humans have been churning out pollution, all for profit.
3.
This image departs from the others, now the smokestack feels almost like an intruder, the bird sitting on a phone line just above, shows nature’s prevalence. This photo can show how nature and industry can coexist in a more positive way. This is also a favourite of mine as the photo was such a fleeting moment, it captures a near-perfect stillness, and provides a strong contrast between the two main elements, the bird and the smokestack.
4.
This last photo is the darkest, the sun had set and the lamp posts had switched on. Providing a man-made orange glow, almost a replacement for the sun. The sky is an important element in all the pictures of this collection, it ties all of them together with a darkening overcast, filled with the potential to become a storm. We also see more nature in this photo just below the smokestack again showing almost a power struggle.
I am proud to present this collection and I am proud of what it's taught me, not only in photography techniques, but the world we live in.
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Looking back on this class, I’m honestly surprised by how much I got out of it. I knew it would be photography-based, but I didn’t expect to walk away with such a different way of thinking about landscape. The class wasn’t just about learning how to take better pictures, it was about slowing down, thinking about space, light, and meaning, and actually planning things out with intention. That shift in approach changed how I see my own work and how I move through environments with a camera.
The layout of the class worked well for me overall. The mix of lectures, photo walks, and personal project development gave everything a nice balance. I liked that there was room to go deep on a single idea instead of just rushing through different styles or techniques every week. It felt like there was space to experiment and make mistakes, which helped me grow more than being told to get it right straight away.
That said, I definitely made things harder for myself with how I managed time. Procrastinating is something I tend to do, and I felt the impact of that a few times during this class. I’d have ideas sitting in my head for weeks but wouldn’t actually start writing or shooting until the pressure was on. Some of the best photos I ended up with came from moments I didn’t overthink, but I also know that giving myself more time would’ve let those ideas develop more naturally. It’s something I want to get better at, because when I *did* commit to the work, I actually enjoyed it.
This class also made me think more critically about how we engage with landscapes, not just visually, but politically and personally. From the lectures to the artists we looked at, there was always this underlying sense that land isn’t neutral. That stuck with me. Even choosing to photograph something like a smokestack became a way of saying something, whether I meant to or not.
In the end, I’m proud of what I produced, especially the photo series. I feel like I’ve actually started to find my voice a bit more, not just in photos, but in how I talk about them. That feels like a solid takeaway from the class.