3.1 – Freeze

For this exercise, I photographed a person mid-jump using a fast shutter speed of 1/1000 to freeze the movement in place. I kept the camera in Shutter Priority mode and adjusted the ISO higher to allow for a bright enough exposure. I didn’t use continuous shooting mode, so I had to time the shot manually, trying to capture the subject at the peak of their jump.

Rather than changing angles, I experimented by adjusting the focal length. This helped me understand how zooming in or out can affect both the background compression and how dynamic the jump appears within the frame.

Although I didn’t use burst mode or vary my shooting angle this time, I learned a lot through the limitations. It was trickier to time the jump just right, but when I caught it, the results felt rewarding. Freezing the subject mid-air with no visible motion blur created a sense of tension and lightness that isn’t noticeable in real time. I found myself paying attention to smaller details like posture, hair movement, and the positioning of limbs.

Szarkowski’s quote about the “momentary patterning of lines and shapes” felt especially relevant—I could see a beauty in the temporary arrangement of the body in space, almost like it was choreographed. Next time, I’d like to incorporate continuous shooting and experiment with angles to see how those choices change the feel of the final image.

I was fascinated by Harold Edgerton’s work because of how it made the invisible visible. His ultra-fast flash techniques froze motion so precisely that a bullet piercing an apple or a drop of milk forming a perfect coronet suddenly became sculptural. What stood out to me wasn’t just the technical achievement, but the way he captured beauty in everyday physics. Moments that are too fast for the human eye to register.

Looking at his images made me realise how photography isn’t just about documenting. It’s about revealing. This has influenced how I approached my own jumping photos. While I didn’t use quite as fast a shutter speed or specialised lighting, I was aiming for that same idea: to pause time and highlight something fleeting and usually unseen. His work has inspired me to keep exploring how I can use my camera not just to record reality, but to reframe and transform it.

Bibliography

Edgerton, H. International Center of Photography. At: https://www.icp.org/browse/archive/constituents/harold-eugene-edgerton [accessed 1/5/2025]

Contact Sheet

3.2 – Trace

For this exercise, I explored the idea of recording the trace of movement within the frame, taking inspiration from several artists who use time, space, and blur to convey deeper meanings.

During my research, I was particularly drawn to Michael Wesely’s long exposures, which layered time into a single image, creating ghostly scenes that feel both still and in motion. I also enjoyed the playful distortions in the work of Maarten Vanvolsem and Gareth Davies. Their approach made me think about how movement can disrupt and reshape the way we view a scene. However, it was Francesca Woodman’s haunting self-portraits that resonated the most. Her use of blur and long exposures evokes emotion and a sense of the otherworldly, and this is something I wanted to experiment with in my own image.

Melbourne Street Experiments

Before attempting a self-portrait, I took my camera into Melbourne and experimented with using a slow shutter speed to capture the trace of movement in busy street scenes. I wanted to see how motion blur could reflect the energy, chaos, or even solitude in a fast-moving environment.

For the first four photos, I sat on a couple of benches along the roadside and observed the flow of pedestrians and traffic. I used an ISO of 100 and a shutter speed of 1/8 second to allow movement to blur slightly while keeping the environment recognisable. The motion trails created a dynamic contrast against the stillness of the street furniture and background architecture.

As I continued walking through the city, I came across an aesthetic viewpoint that framed an older-style building between two modern skyscrapers. It felt symbolic. Old and new clashing in one frame. I lowered the shutter speed to 1/3 second to exaggerate the blur but found the contrast too high and distracting. While adjusting the settings back to 1/8 second, I accidentally clicked the shutter button as I lowered the camera.

This mistake ended up being a “happy accident” resulting in a beautifully distorted image of the old building, caught mid-motion. Though unintentional, it captured exactly what I had been looking for – a slightly surreal sense of time passing, of things shifting just out of reach. The final photo was taken at ISO 100 and a shutter speed of 1/8 second, and it’s my favourite from the series so far.

These images helped me become more comfortable with slow shutter photography in public and gave me a deeper understanding of how to balance exposure, motion, and intention.

Inspired Self – Portrait

Inspired by Francesca Woodman’s haunting, otherworldly imagery, I wanted to explore how motion blur could be used in a more personal and expressive way. While my Melbourne street photos captured external movement, I turned the camera inward for this part of the exercise.

I set up my camera facing a blank background to remove distractions and focus on the figure. Using the timer and a shutter speed of 1/4 second, I positioned myself in front of the lens and experimented with movement. As the shutter opened, I slowly shook my head with my hands hovering near my face, trying to convey a feeling of inner chaos or confusion.

The first image was more zoomed in than intended, but I was immediately drawn to the results. The blur across my features gave a ghostlike presence, evoking something raw and unsettling. Though it wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned, the distortion adds a layer of intensity that I’ve become kind of obsessed with.

For the second attempt, I zoomed out slightly to better frame my upper body and allow more space around the movement. This time, the photo came out just as I had pictured it – a visual echo of distress, captured in one extended moment.

This process showed me how even simple, subtle movements can dramatically affect the emotional tone of an image. It’s made me think differently about portraiture, not just in terms of how a subject looks, but how they feel.

Bibliography

Fiore, J. August 2018. Reevaluating Francesca Woodman, whose early death haunts her groundbreaking images. Artsy. At: https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-reevaluating-francesca-woodman-early-death-haunts-groundbreaking-images [accessed 1/5/2025]

Contact Sheet

Assignment 2 – Collecting

For this assignment, I chose the theme “Views”. It felt like a natural fit because I genuinely enjoy photographing landscapes and I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by stunning scenery during my daily dog walks. These places aren’t just beautiful, they’re familiar, peaceful, and tied to my routine, which made the process feel very personal and authentic.

Before I went out, I focused on creating a cohesive visual series, as suggested by the quote from Walter Benjamin:

“Fragments of a vessel which are to be glued together must match one another in the smallest details although they need not be like one another.”

This idea helped me make technical decisions early on. I chose to shoot handheld using a 35mm focal length with a narrow aperture (f/13–f/16) to keep most of the image in focus making it ideal for wide landscape scenes. I also made a conscious effort to use the rule of thirds, especially to keep the horizon on the lower third of the frame. These small details help the images feel like part of a set, even though each one shows a different view.

I selected eight strong images that show tree-lined roads with vanishing points and distant valleys at elevated lookouts. They’re all places I see while walking my dog that became an unintentional but fitting theme: everyday views through a walking lens. The series quietly documents my environment as I move through it. There’s no forced narrative or dramatic moment, just the peaceful stillness of the places I pause in.

While putting this series together, I learned a lot about aperture and depth of field, and how a small aperture can give sharper landscape details. I also became more aware of how ISO settings affect light and noise, especially in outdoor daylight conditions. I realised how important consistency is, not just in the subject matter, but in framing, focal length, and horizon placement. I also recognised how editing could elevate the final result. Although I haven’t edited or cropped these photos, I now understand how post-processing can help enhance clarity and cohesion in future work.

This set isn’t flashy or overly stylised, but that’s what I like about it. It reflects stillness, space, and the idea of observation… views that speak for themselves. It reminds me of Ishiuchi Miyako’s quiet photographic approach in Hiroshima, or Renger-Patzsch’s belief that things can have a voice when we don’t try to overly dramatise them. In future assignments, I’d like to explore editing and post-processing more, maybe even plan around specific weather or lighting conditions. But for this set, I am pleased with the outcome as it reflects my eye, my routine, and my growing understanding of how to bring photos together with purpose.

Reflection Against Assessment Criteria

1. Demonstration of Technical and Visual Skills
I made intentional technical decisions before taking the photographs, such as using a consistent 35mm focal length and a narrow aperture (f/13–f/16) to ensure deep focus throughout each image. I shot handheld but paid close attention to composition using the rule of thirds, particularly keeping the horizon on the lower third. I also considered how the images would work as a series, paying attention to framing and visual rhythm. This assignment helped me improve my understanding of aperture, ISO, and how to use camera settings to suit a subject like landscape photography.

2. Quality of Outcome
I feel that my final series of eight photographs is visually coherent and consistent, even though each image shows a different view. The concept is simple and quiet, everyday views from my dog walks, but I believe it communicates a clear sense of place and perspective. I presented the work in a clear and structured way, supported by reflective writing that explains my process and thought behind the choices I made. The outcome is personal, honest, and technically considered.

3. Demonstration of Creativity
Although the idea wasn’t highly experimental, I think there’s creativity in the way I approached something so familiar. I didn’t try to force a big concept, but instead let the views and the routine of walking guide the work. The decision to keep things simple, unedited, and natural was part of that creative choice. I’d like to push my creativity further in future assignments, perhaps by exploring different lighting conditions, weather, or experimenting with editing and storytelling more directly.

4. Context
I looked into the ideas presented by Walter Benjamin, particularly the importance of coherence and detail across a series. This helped shape my approach. I also reflected on photographers like Ishiuchi Miyako and Albert Renger-Patzsch, who use stillness and minimalism to let objects or places speak for themselves. Writing the reflection helped me connect these ideas to my own work. I’m beginning to build a better understanding of how theory and historical context can shape and support a photographic practice.

2.4 – Woodpecker

Focus is another powerful tool in photography, guiding the viewer’s attention and shaping the overall composition of an image. In this exercise, I explored how different focusing techniques and depth of field settings can dramatically alter the way an image is perceived. I found a subject positioned in front of a background with depth, ensuring there were clear layers to work with. I used a moderate zoom lens and got as close as possible to my subject while staying within my lens’s minimum focusing distance.

I started by setting my focus directly on the subject. With a wide aperture, this resulted in a beautifully blurred background, isolating the subject and drawing the viewer’s eye immediately to the sharpest point in the frame. This effect is commonly used in portrait photography to create a professional, artistic look.

Next, without changing my framing or focal length, I set my focus to infinity. The background suddenly became sharp and detailed, while the foreground (including my subject) became a soft blur. The shift in focus completely altered the composition, making the environment more prominent than the subject itself.

For the final shot, I selected a small aperture to achieve a deep depth of field, ensuring both foreground and background elements were in focus. This technique is often used in landscape photography to create immersive scenes where every detail is visible.

The key takeaways from this exercise were focus dictates attention. Our eyes are naturally drawn to the sharpest part of an image. Shallow depth of field forces our focus onto a single subject, while deep focus allows the entire scene to be explored. Changing the focal point alters how the image is perceived. A blurred subject with a sharp background feels completely different from a sharply focused subject with a blurred background. When using deep focus, including strong foreground elements can help create balance and prevent wide shots from feeling empty. Neuroscientific studies suggest that our left part of our brain processes details while the right sees the bigger picture. Mastering both shallow and deep depth of field allows us to create images that engage both aspects of visual perception.

This exercise was a great reminder of how much control we have over an image simply by adjusting focus. Whether you’re shooting portraits, landscapes, or storytelling images, understanding how focus structures composition can take your photography to the next level.

2.2 – Viewpoint

This exercise helped me understand how focal length and viewpoint together affect perspective distortion in photography. The task was simple but eye-opening: I took one tightly framed portrait using my longest focal length, then moved closer to my subject while zooming out to my shortest focal length—keeping the framing identical in both shots.

I chose a portrait setting with a background that had depth. My subject stood still while I first used my lens to capture the initial shot from a distance. Then, I walked toward them while adjusting my lens to a wider focal length, ensuring they remained the same size in the frame.

Flipping between the two images, I was surprised by how much the background had changed.

First Shot (Long Focal Length): The background appeared compressed and distant elements seemingly closer together. The subject’s features looked natural, and there was a nice separation between them and the background due to the shallower depth of field.
Second Shot (Short Focal Length): The background expanded dramatically. Objects that had been far away now seemed much further apart, and new elements crashed into the frame. The subject’s face also appeared slightly distorted, features like the nose seemed larger, and the perspective was more exaggerated.

This exercise reinforced that zooming in from the same spot doesn’t change perspective, moving your viewpoint does. A long focal length compresses the background and creates a more natural portrait, whereas a wide-angle lens exaggerates depth and can distort facial proportions.

Understanding this is a game-changer for composing portraits. If I want an intimate, cinematic feel with beautiful background compression, I’ll reach for a longer lens. If I want something more dynamic and immersive, a wider lens with a closer viewpoint can add energy to the shot. This simple but effective exercise helped me see how small technical choices completely alter the look and feel of an image.

2.1 – Zoom

This exercise explores how zooming in alters our perception of a scene, moving from a broad context to isolated details. Inspired by films like Blade Runner (1982) and Blow-Up (1966), I examined how focal length changes not only the framing but also the meaning of an image.

I selected a scene with strong depth. From a fixed position, I captured a sequence of five images, adjusting the focal length each time without physically moving. The sequence progresses from a wide-angle shot to a tightly cropped detail.

After looking through the photos, I noticed:

The illusion of movement through the scene, as though stepping closer.
The transition from documentary-style representation to abstraction.
The way zooming changes the relationship between elements, i.e. backgrounds disappear, subjects become isolated, and meanings shift.

Deckard’s “Esper” equipment in Blade Runner enables him to zoom into photos, supposedly revealing secrets. However, detail fades into grain at the highest resolution, a reflection of photography’s physical limitations. The main character in Blow-Up enlarges a negative in an attempt to solve a mystery. However, he gets less clarity the more he zooms. This calls into question the notion that zooming increases comprehension. Even at the highest resolution, Google Arts & Culture’s extreme zoom capabilities on well-known pieces of art cause the paint and canvas to break down.

For my final image, I chose the last shot in the sequence, which focused on the open end of an alleyway. While the initial wide shot captured the full length of the alley—emphasising its depth and surrounding textures—the final close-up revealed a quiet moment: a woman taking a photo of above down the alleyway, her movement framed by the narrowing passage. This subtle detail shifted the image from a broad environmental study to a more intimate, narrative-focused composition. This is a good example of how zooming and selective focus can turn a space into a story, drawing the viewer’s attention to a single moment within a much larger scene.

This exercise reinforced the idea that zooming is not simply about ‘getting closer’ but more about shifting perspectives. As Cavell suggests, perhaps we are already close enough; it is our way of seeing that changes.

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.