This is one of my favourite Melbourne laneways; it’s featured here many times. I think it’s the combination of architectural styles – the dome in the background providing a classical oversight of the younger, more angular upstarts in front of it. A relatively new cafe has opened, which has added to the visual interest of the laneway, as it means there are generally large numbers of people sitting around. There’s always something happening here…




Some time ago, I did a series of posts about Melbourne ‘icons’ – some of those recognisable buidlings, vehicles, neon signs, and so on, that really illustrate something of the character of Melbourne. I’m thinking now that I perhaps missed some of the other things that make up the experience of Melbourne, and I feel they warrant some attention. Luckily for me, this shot captures two: the busy, restaurant-filled laneways near Flinders Street Station, and slightly neglected but still completely excellent vintage scooters. This is a Vespa, and hence the very best of its breed…




This was my third version of this image. I knew I liked the image from the very start – something about the pose of the guy in the background (not to mention his colourful shirt!) – he seemed relaxed, comfortable, and very much in his element. I liked the sightline that led me from his eyes to the eyes of the other guy to the right, who seems more directed, more ‘busy’, moving through the scene without pausing. I liked the contrast that created.

I write that this is the third version. In the first, I hadn’t cropped at all – there was more space at the top of the frame. But I set the image aside, and when I came back, I realised that there was a light grey awning (or something) at the very top left, that just drew my eye out of the frame.

Then there was version 2. There was actually two other people next to our man in blue – no, I didn’t ‘doctor’ the image or clone them out; I simply cropped it to exclude them. I did this only after actually uploading that version to WordPress. Seeing it small on the screen as part of this post really helped me to see that they didn’t need to be in the shot, and in fact they distracted from that core at the centre of the frame. So, a quick crop, and a new upload later, and here we are.

Technically, it’s not a great shot. At all. It’s blurry, grainy, and I just couldn’t find any way of resolving the visual ‘interference’ that the different signs cause at the top of the frame (and now you won’t be able to ‘unsee’ that!). But I like it anyway. And maybe there’s more to an image than technical perfection and a tidy frame – or not…

(Just in case you’re interested, here is version 1:


…and version 2:

…small changes, but I think they add up!)




A reflection on ways of seeing.

I just had my first black and white film developed in over 20 years (Ilford HP5+, in case you are interested, shot on a Leica CL with a Summicron-C 40mm f/2 lens…). I received an email with a link to the scans (now that’s different to 20+ years ago, let me tell you!), dutifully downloaded the folder, and then set about reviewing all of the shots.

On the whole, I was very pleased. This shot was one of the first that caught my eye.

I sent this shot to Sharon, exclaiming my excitement at what I saw. Later in the day, when we met in the city after work, Sharon asked me to more fully articulate what it was that I saw, and why I found it exciting. And that got me to thinking… there are so many ways to see an image. So I thought I’d share my process of seeing this image with you – I saw it for the very first time just 8 hours ago, so I still recall the moment quite clearly.

FIRST, I see the image from a technical perspective. I look at the range of tones – and I immediately appreciate the rich range of greys here – there’s a warmth and tonality in the transitions – they seem smooth, analogue, not ‘stepped’ or abrupt. They blend into each other. This is clearest for me in the bright triangle directly above the man’s head – there’s still depth in the brightest point. And then I notice the shadows – melting to black, but still retaining just a suggestion of shape and texture. If you’re familiar with the Zone system, you might appreciate the range of zones present in the shot. I also appreciate the grain – it’s subtly different from digital noise – and just adds a touch of depth to the image.

SECOND, I see the compositional elements of the image. I guess this is still technical, but it’s perhaps moving towards something more narrative in nature too? I like the way there are so many diagonals in the shot, and the way they all seem to converge on the man. I have (of course) edited the shot, to crop out a metal grate that was at the front of the frame, which led my eye away from the man. All of the other elements channel my eye straight to him.

THIRD, I see the narrative. I wonder why the man is walking in such a purposeful way, into what is apparently a dead end. This then draws my mind to the only other ‘clue’ in the frame – the car. Is it his car? Is he meeting someone? He seems small, insignificant next to the architecture around him, dwarfed and yet still I’m drawn to him. This gives me a sense of mystery, a question that I want to answer. In other words, this creates gaps. My mind loves gaps – it fills them in with all sorts of stories, relationships, conversations, meetings, and so on. (In reality, there is an entrance to a car park on the left – he disappeared just moments after this shot!)

FOURTH, I appreciate what it took for me to actually ‘get’ the shot. Perhaps this is a return to the technical? I recall the scenario well (it was only this week after all) – I was shooting with a fully manual camera, with no light meter. So I metered the light in this little laneway before I even saw the man – anticipating that someone would walk past. I was just dialing in the settings on my camera when I saw the man walk past. I waited for him to pass, pre-focused on the spot where I wanted him in the frame, and then pressed the shutter. This all took maybe two to three seconds. I’m not suggesting anything that I did here was extraordinary “Ooh how clever am I as an old-school street photographer??” – more that I’m still a little amazed that with all of those points of potential error, I still managed to produce this shot. I saw it in my head, and was able to leverage my knowledge of light and the functions of my camera (not to mention a substantial chunk of luck) to move it from my head to a 35mm piece of plastic and silver. One nice aspect of film is it does somewhat dampen the effect of this particular way of seeing the image, as the process of finishing a roll and then waiting to get it developed (and scanned) means there’s a delay of some time between capture and review. Shooting digital (which I fully intend to continue doing) bridges this gap, and sometimes I find myself really pursuing an image beyond the point at which I’d normally discard it as lacking in interest or indeed against any of the first three ‘lenses’ described here, just because I know how I worked to get the shot in the first place. So I try to keep this particular way of seeing until the end, as it is the least reliable measure of an image if the intention is to share it with others (who will have little understanding, and potentially even less interest, in how fast you had to run, or how many minutes/hours/days you had to wait, to capture that man walking mysteriously towards a dead end laneway). Sometimes though, like here, it’s the icing on the cake for me.

So, that was my process – all of which took a couple of seconds as I flicked through the shots. I’d be interested to know your process, either for this image or indeed one of your own… what happens for you, when you see an image for the first time? What ‘lenses’ do you apply, to help you make a judgement about it? Is it the story that draws you in, or the technical qualities? Maybe it’s different for different shots – in any case, I’d love to hear from you…