4.3: Egg or Stone – Ex Nihilo

This exercise was about creating light from scratch, building it “ex nihilo” instead of discovering it out in the world. With no natural lighting to rely on, I had to build an environment where I could fully control the light’s quality, contrast, direction and colour to reveal the form of a simple, organic object.

I chose to work with an egg, focusing on how light could bring out its shape, surface and presence within the frame. I placed the egg on a small lid so that it would stand up by itself. My “studio” was minimal. I used a desk with a lamp as my main light source. Two pieces of white paper created the background.

The first image was a classic soft portrait, with the lamp placed just above and slightly behind the camera, directly facing the egg. This created soft, even lighting that gently wrapped around the egg, producing minimal shadows and a neutral, balanced mood. It felt clean and simple. A kind of lighting you might use for a traditional headshot or product photo.

For the second shot, I moved the light to a 45-degree angle to the side of the egg. This created a much more dramatic look, with strong contrast between the illuminated and shadowed areas. The hard light brought out the shape and curvature of the egg more clearly, carving it out from the background and giving it a sculptural, intense presence.

In the third shot, I kept the light in the same 45-degree side position but changed the camera angle to a bird’s eye view. Looking down on the egg from above created a more abstract composition, where the sideways shadows fell across the surface in interesting ways. It felt less like a portrait and more like a study of form and space.

The fourth shot used backlighting to shift the mood completely. I positioned the lamp behind the egg, angled slightly toward it, so that the light created a glow around the edges. The front of the egg fell into shadow, which made exposure a bit trickier, but the result had a soft halo effect and a mysterious, dramatic feel. It almost looked like the egg was silhouetted, which was a nice change from the earlier setups.

Finally, the fifth shot placed the light directly overhead, while the camera returned to a front-on portrait position. This setup created a symmetrical spotlight effect, with soft shadows falling evenly around the base of the egg. It flattened the form a little but gave the image a clean, graphic look, almost like a product shot, but with a more focused, isolated mood.

What really stood out to me in this task was just how much impact small lighting changes can have. Shifting the position of the lamp or changing the angle of the camera altered the entire feel of the photo. Even with a simple object and a minimal setup, there were endless possibilities. It reminded me that in studio photography, the light becomes the subject in many ways. It’s not just what you’re photographing, but how you reveal it.

This was a great chance to practice being deliberate and thoughtful with lighting, and I came away with a deeper appreciation for how light behaves and how much control you really have over it, even with the most basic tools.

Assignment 3 – The (In)decisive Moment

For this assignment, I wanted to explore the photographic concept of the decisive moment. A term famously associated with Henri Cartier-Bresson, while also reflecting on the opposite: the quiet, unresolved indecisive moment. Both ideas fascinated me, especially as I noticed that the world around me is constantly moving, yet most human behavior falls somewhere between pause and flow. By observing people in public spaces, I became aware of just how many seemingly uneventful moments can hold visual tension and emotion.

My photographic series was captured around Melbourne, specifically near the waterfront, parks, and urban streets. I allowed myself to photograph whatever naturally unfolded rather than wait too long for the “perfect” moment. This approach allowed me to observe how the two themes emerged organically in the everyday.

Decisive Moments:

I define a decisive moment as that instant when all elements in a scene such as light, shape, subject, and background, align to create a visually complete and emotionally satisfying image. These images don’t require explanation; their strength lies in the clarity of the moment.

One example is a photo of a couple sitting on a bench as the world moves past behind them. Their stillness creates a powerful contrast against the life flowing around them. Similarly, another couple sat on the grass nearby, absorbed in their own world, creating an intimate moment that felt timeless even in a busy setting. A third example captured a man raising his camera to photograph the Melbourne skyline. A split-second alignment of human intention and environmental beauty.

Indecisive Moments:

The indecisive moments in this series focus on the unspectacular but quietly telling in-between states. These are fragments of time where the narrative feels incomplete or paused, inviting curiosity.

One image shows a woman stopping mid-walk to check her phone. Her stillness hints at disconnection from her surroundings, almost as if the world kept moving while she stood still. Another photograph shows people waiting at a crossing, their postures loaded with anticipation. Finally, a family captured just before climbing into a minivan reflects a similar idea: the moment before action, where energy is held rather than released.

Perhaps the most compelling example of this theme came about unintentionally. As I descended an escalator onto a train platform, I captured people waiting for the train below. The resulting image had a grainy texture, partly due to the lighting conditions and motion, which echoed the aesthetic of a film camera. The grain, combined with the quiet, anticipatory scene, enhanced the sense of suspended time.

Reflection:

Throughout this assignment, I was reminded of Alberto Giacometti’s insights on the conflict between seeing the whole and focusing on detail. Despite Giacometti being a masterful draughtsman, he found it almost impossible to concentrate on the entire figure without losing sight of its individual parts and vice versa. He learned that rather than forcing concentration, the answer was to allow the eye and brain to flow naturally between the two. I felt a similar shift when photographing this series. The most successful moments came when I stopped trying to “control” the scene and allowed instinct to guide me.

Photographically, this project has taught me that both decisive and indecisive moments hold value, and both require patience and observation to capture. The key isn’t always about seizing action, but rather recognizing when a composition, whether resolved or suspended, can hold emotional or visual interest.

This assignment allowed me to reflect on the everyday with a new eye, noticing patterns and pauses I’d usually overlook. By embracing both sides of the moment, I feel my understanding of photographic timing and visual storytelling has deepened.

Influences

Henri Cartier-Bresson — The Decisive Moment
Alberto Giacometti — on perception and the relationship between part and whole
Ruth Bernhard — “If you are not willing to see more than is visible, you won’t see anything.”
Street photographers such as Joel Meyerowitz and Matt Stuart, who celebrate both the unexpected and the understated in public scenes.

Bibliography

Cartier-Bresson, H. (1952). The Decisive Moment. New York: Simon and Schuster.

Lord, J. (1965). Giacometti: A Biography. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Meyerowitz, J. (n.d.). Joel Meyerowitz. [online] At: https://www.joelmeyerowitz.com/ [accessed 12/04/25].

Stuart, M. (n.d.). Matt Stuart Photography. [online] At: https://www.mattstuart.com/ [accessed 12/04/25].

3.3 – What Matters is to Look

For this exercise, I visited Point Ormond Viewpoint in Melbourne, a location that offers a wide panoramic view overlooking the bay and the city skyline. I chose it because of the distinct layers it presented, from the foreground right through to the horizon, making it ideal for practicing the act of seeing as described in the brief.

I started by observing the foreground, where a man stood next to his bike, enjoying the view. He was positioned slightly off-centre, adding an organic touch of life and movement to the scene. His presence grounded the composition and gave me an immediate focal point to work from.

Next, I looked at the middle ground. A paved path stretched into the distance, acting as a strong leading line that disappeared into the trees. It guided my eye toward the rest of the scene and created a natural flow through the composition. I noticed how the line of the path created a rhythm, like a visual bridge between the man and the faraway city.

Then my focus reached the background, where the Melbourne city skyline came into view. The skyscrapers stood tall on the horizon, slightly hazy from the sun, but still sharp enough to create a beautiful contrast against the soft blue sky. This layer gave the image its sense of depth and scale. A reminder of the relationship between nature and the built environment.

Finally, I looked up to the sky, a brilliant blue canvas with the sun glistening off the water below. The light bouncing off the bay added a sense of calm and clarity, tying the whole scene together in a wash of warmth and brightness.

Once I felt that I could see everything all together as a single unified view rather than in isolated parts, I raised my camera and took the photo. It was surprisingly difficult to maintain awareness of the whole scene at once. My eyes kept wanting to jump to individual elements, but I found that softening my gaze helped me hold the entire picture in my mind. It became less about focusing and more about being open to everything at once.

This exercise reminded me how easily we miss the bigger picture when we get caught up in details. It also echoed Giacometti’s challenge where he struggled with capturing both the whole figure and its details simultaneously. The photograph I captured is simple, but to me it holds the balance between stillness and movement, closeness and distance, man and city.

It was a powerful reminder that what matters is to look, really look, and to trust that the act of seeing itself is just as important as the shot you take.

Contact Sheet

Photographers

I looked into the methods used by the photographers that are mentioned in the course brief, and I found several reoccurring themes that I will explain at the end.

Wim Wenders:

Wenders highlights the power of focus in guiding the viewer’s gaze, suggesting that the choice of where to direct attention within a frame is a significant decision. He remarks, “The most political decision you make is where you direct people’s eyes.” – Wim Wenders (1997) quoted in Broomberg & Chanarin, 2008

This quote from Wim Wenders highlights the power of directing the viewer’s gaze, which is a significant aspect of using depth of field in photography. The choice of focus (shallow or deep) can subtly influence how a photograph is read, much like how a director in cinema uses focus to guide the audience’s attention.

Andre Bazin:

Bazin discusses how deep focus cinematography allows viewers the freedom to choose where to direct their attention within a scene, promoting a more personal engagement with the visual narrative. He notes, “Deep focus gives the eye autonomy to roam over the picture space so that the viewer is at least given the opportunity to edit the scene himself.” – Bazin (1948) quoted in Thompson & Bordwell, 2007

Ansel Adams:

Adam and his contemporaries championed the use of small apertures to achieve sharpness throughout the image, aligning with their belief in photography’s independence from traditional art conventions. They viewed this approach as a means to “remain independent of ideological conventions of art and aesthetics that are reminiscent of a period and culture antedating the growth of the medium itself.” – F64 Group Manifesto, 1932

Fay Godwin:

Fay Godwin, a British landscape photographer, also used depth of field as a political tool. Her photobook Our Forbidden Land (1990) used deep focus to convey the expansive but restricted nature of the countryside in Britain. This visual technique helped to communicate the message of restricted access to nature, which played a part in changing laws governing public access to the countryside in Britain.

Gianluca Cosci:

Cosci’s use of shallow depth of field in his series Panem et Circenses employs selective focus to comment on corporate influence in urban environments, using “slivers of sharpness” to represent the impact of corporate power on public spaces.

Mona Kuhn:

Mona Kuhn’s Evidence series is a profound exploration of the human form, capturing both young and old subjects in intimate, sensual compositions. Her photographs present individuals who are nude yet not naked; they appear completely relaxed, as if their own skin offers the utmost comfort. Kuhn’s unique style combines sharply rendered portraits with blurred backgrounds, guiding the viewer’s eye and stimulating the imagination.

Over eight years, Kuhn photographed friends and family in Southwest France, creating images that balance light and shadow, gestures, and gazes. The accompanying publication begins with the statement: “The most immediate form of evidence available to an individual is the observations of that person’s own senses.”

In her portrayal, Kuhn emphasizes the natural essence of her subjects, inviting viewers to engage with the images on a sensory level. This approach aligns with the notion that photographs can adapt to various interpretations based on context and presentation, a concept that will be further explored later in the course.

Kim Kirkpatrick:

Kirkpatrick utilizes a restricted depth of field to direct the viewer’s attention to specific details within his compositions. This technique not only highlights particular elements but also adds an abstract quality to the images, encouraging viewers to engage more deeply with the scene.

Kirkpatrick’s photography has been exhibited in various prestigious venues, including the Strathmore Hall Arts Center and the Maryland Art Place. His work has been recognized for its sensitivity to light and color, with gallery owner Sally Troyer remarking, “I have never seen work so sensitive to light and color.”

Guy Bourdin:

Bourdin’s application of deep focus allowed every element within his frames to be sharply defined, compelling viewers to engage with the entire composition rather than focusing on a singular subject. This technique, combined with his strategic placement of models and objects, often elicited feelings of unease and contemplation. As noted in his work, “he created images laced with undertones of psychological tension.”

Bourdin’s photographs often subverted traditional narratives by presenting models in provocative poses within unsettling environments. This approach not only challenged conventional notions of beauty and fashion but also invited viewers to explore deeper psychological themes. His work, as described in a Phaidon article, “put shock, suspense, and surrealism into fashion photography.”

Common Themes:

Across these photographers, depth of field is used deliberately to guide the viewer’s attention, whether through selective focus on specific details or deep focus that keeps the entire frame sharp. This technique influences how the viewer experiences the image, adding emotional or intellectual depth.

Many of these artists also use their work to comment on societal issues, aiming to provoke thought and sometimes inspire change. For instance, Mona Kuhn’s intimate portrayals of the human body and Fay Godwin’s expansive landscapes touch on themes like identity, vulnerability, and our relationship with nature, offering reflections on complex topics.

From Kuhn’s intimate portraits to Godwin’s landscapes, there is a shared interest in exploring the human experience, both literally and symbolically. These photographers capture not only their subjects but also broader themes about society and the environment, using photography as a tool for both artistic expression and social commentary.

Ultimately, these insights show that photography is not just about capturing the world but also about engaging with audiences through deep, thoughtful narratives. By combining technical skill with thematic depth, these photographers use their work to provoke, question, and communicate complex ideas.

Exploring Aesthetic Codes

For this exercise, I selected a photo from my archive featuring a single boat floating on a calm, blue sea beneath a bright, blue sky. The image is sharp throughout, capturing the natural tones and textures of the scene with clarity. I’ve titled it Clear as Day, a name that reflects both the weather conditions and the clean, unfussy composition.

This photo aligns with the Straight Photography aesthetic code, which emphasizes accurate, detailed representation. There’s no soft focus or dramatic manipulation—just a real moment, crisply observed. The depth of field allows everything in frame to be seen clearly, inviting the viewer to appreciate the simplicity and peacefulness of the scene.

Although I didn’t take this image with a particular aesthetic in mind at the time, revisiting it through this lens has helped me understand how technical choices like aperture and depth of field contribute to the overall feel and message of a photo. It’s a gentle reminder of how even a straightforward shot can be rich in visual meaning.

Bibliography

Evidence – Mona Kuhn (2007). At: https://steidl.de/Buecher/Evidence-0020293453.html [accessed 21/03/2025]

Mona Kuhn | Works (2007). At: https://www.flowersgallery.com/exhibitions/515-mona-kuhn-works/ [accessed 21/03/2025]

Wikipedia (2024) Kim Kirkpatrick. At: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kim_Kirkpatrick [accessed 21/03/2025]

Guy Bourdin (2018). At: https://eledhwen.blog/guy-bourdin/ [accessed 21/03/2025]

Phaidon (2014) How Man Ray helped Guy Bourdin put shock, suspense and surrealism into fashion photography | Photography | Agenda | Phaidon. At: https://www.phaidon.com/agenda/photography/articles/2014/august/12/how-man-ray-helped-guy-bourdin-put-shock-suspense-and-surrealism-into-fashion-photography/ [accessed 21/03/2025]

Campany and Colberg

David Campany’s review talks about how technology has changed photography, especially with digital formats and image manipulation. He focuses on JPEG compression, where reducing image data leads to a loss in quality. This results in pixelation or a blurry, abstract look in heavily compressed images, which creates a unique aesthetic. Rather than seeing this as a flaw, Campany argues that it’s a defining feature of digital photography today. He suggests that this degradation actually highlights the fleeting nature of digital images, shifting them from perfect representations to temporary, data-driven moments. For Campany, compression is part of the experience of modern photography and helps us see images in a new light.

Joerg Colberg takes a slightly different perspective. He’s more interested in how artists use digital tools like compression to make a statement about the digital world. He highlights works like Thomas Ruff’s JPEG series, where the intentional pixelation critiques the mass consumption and spread of images online. For Colberg, the distortion caused by compression challenges how we think about the “truth” of a photo. The more abstract, less realistic images force viewers to reconsider what it means for a photo to be real. Colberg also stresses that understanding the technical side of photography—like resolution and compression—is key to appreciating how artists use these tools to push back against traditional ideas of what photography should be.

Both Campany and Colberg argue that compression in digital photography isn’t just a technical issue; it’s a creative tool that changes how we see and think about images. They highlight how technology shapes our understanding of photography, from how it’s made to how we interpret it in a world full of digital images.

Below are 3 images from Thomas Ruff’s JPEG series.

Thomas Ruff. (n.d.). Thomas Ruff. At: https://www.thomasruff.com/en/works/jpeg/ [accessed 12/03/2025]

1.3: Line

The brief of this exercise asked me to take a number of wide-angle shots using lines to create a sense of depth. Diagonal lines are key to creating a strong sense of depth because they guide the viewers eye into the image and enhance the feeling of space.

I drove through this village on my way to work, and when I read the brief, this particular place came to mind since the trees are lined up between a fence and a road, both of which also have lines. All of these elements work together to generate a sense of depth in the frame. After examining the photo, I saw that, while the sensation of depth had been accomplished, I could have taken the shot standing closer to the line to emphasize the depth even further.

The next photograph I took was of a different tree line. A sense of depth has been achieved because the size of objects decreases with distance. The horizon may be seen through the woods. If you look at this line in connection to the side of the road, starting from the nearside and continuing to the end, the two lines meet at the end, highlighting the depth in the photo.

This shot was taken in my garden. I thought the lines on the fence at the right angle would be great to portray a sense of depth. However, I still could have gotten closer to the line.

The final photograph I captured was on a train track. This shot has the best sense of depth since I took it from the center of the track, which you can see until it goes into the horizon.

Perpendicular lines are less likely to cause discomfort or tension, as they feel contained and don’t lead the eye to “escape” the frame. They help provide a strong, grounded structure, and allow the viewer to experience the composition within the frame’s boundaries.

Perspective lines can create a powerful sense of depth, but they can also disrupt the harmony if they lead out of the frame. When a line exits the frame, the viewer may feel like they’re missing a part of the story or that the flow of the composition is interrupted. This makes it harder for the viewer to re-engage with the image and creates a visual “dead end.”

The concept of leading lines becomes crucial here. These lines should guide the viewer’s eye through the image and lead to something within the frame, not out of it. A well-placed leading line creates a visual journey, giving the viewer a way back into the image and encouraging them to explore the entire composition.

1.2: Point

A point has many different meanings depending on what you are using it for. In this context, a point is small within the frame and the position is more important than the form. The brief for this exercise asked me to take three or four photographs with a single point placed in different parts of the frame following these three rules: the place of the point shouldn’t be too obvious, use rule of thirds when composing the shot and the point should be easy to see.

I set up my camera with a fixed frame and selected an object to work with. For this activity, I used my dog’s toy. I thought it would be an excellent thing to use because it is yellow and therefore stands out among the others. I began distributing it throughout my garden using the rule of thirds. The first three photographs are nice since they adhere to the rules. However, the fourth photo is difficult to find since, in order to obey the rule of thirds without repeating the first few photos, I had to position the point far back in the garden.

Once we’d taken those images, I had to take three more with no restrictions. I figured I might have a little fun with this one. I kept the frame exactly as it was and moved the point to other locations. If you didn’t know the brief for this exercise, you wouldn’t notice the first photo because there are so many elements in the frame. Moving on to the second shot, you are instantly drawn to the point because it is not only in the center of the frame, but it is also bright yellow and hanging from the washing line, making it difficult to overlook. For the final photo of these three, I was preoccupied with deciding where to position the point. Then my dog wanted to play, so I photographed her and the point together. I had fun with these three images since I followed the brief while keeping it entertaining.