One of my classmates introduced me to Marco Marzocchi’s work, and I am in love! Marzocchi’s photobooks combine many visual elements and approaches,
including text and re-photographed photos. His works are two dimensional, but
depict textural elements such as tape, staples, and the rough imperfections of
scrunched or ripped paper. Text also appears frequently and is often scrawled
in loose handwriting or crossed out violently. Whilst there is a lot of
variation in subject matter, and a consistent inconsistency to the way each
image is displayed, the 2D nature of the book creates cohesion. I feel that
this sense of controlled chaos echoes my inner psyche, and I want to emulate
this sense of contained disorder in my own work.

The images below are from the book, Oyster.

New York City 2015 is completely inside a notebook- and I love that.

I have been a bit stuck on how I want to present my photobook, aside from it being small (A5) and bound on the left. But when I saw this book, Clear of People by Michal Iwanowski, I was inspired to use a similar binding technique.

The binding is a bit hard to explain, but basically the pages are bound and the spine is exposed, but the cover is attached to the back of the book. So the spine remains exposed, and the cover is like a large flap. I really love this feel, and would be thrilled if I could bind my book this way. 

The subtle stitches are nice to see throughout the book.

I like how the full bleeds sit wth the facing pages.

Two images of the same size with white space beneath is effective. The layouts are simple but effective.

As usual, I looked for a video of the book’s flip through, and I love the way that it moves, and opens out to show flat spreads. I think that this would suit my images, but also having the exposed spine and being able to see the binding thread speaks to the mockup book I did earlier in the year, and I think it would work well.

(1) Brave Books, Clear of People by Michal Iwanowski, video, viewed 24 August 2020, <https://vimeo.com/214038664>

After taking a bit of a break from looking at my photobook layout, I suddenly felt inspired to play with it again. Coming at it with fresh eyes, I can easily see that it needs a lot of work. I think the content is working, but the flow of the book, as well as the way the elements are arranged on the page needs work. I want to make it look less amateur. I also want to include a lot more negative space in the book- so that not every page has a facing picture. I want a lot more single pages, but I would like to include a few pages that have a facing image too.

Additionally, I am no longer going to hand stitch small images and flaps into the book using red string, as I’ve been advised to drop that element. I think I would still like to bind the book with red string, but I think it will play a much more subtle role in the overall publication. 

This meant that I had to re-work quite a few pages in the book, which I had planned to stitch text messages over the top of. However, once I separated the full page images and the text, I think it looked a lot better. Below are some examples of this. I’ve also decided to keep all of the text messages in black and white, since it is more consistent and also it’s not so important to include the red anymore, as the red string is not going to be such a key metaphor.

I also thought about how I could make the glitch pages a bit rougher, so I tried shifting the pixels on a couple of rows across a bit to add a ‘glitchy’ looking row. I don’t mind it, but I think it needs a bit more experimentation.

AND, I think I finally worked out how I am going to include the coffee cups! I liked these from the start, but as the project grew they became less and less relevant, and I thought I might have to cut them out completely. But I had an idea today to use them as yet another time marker- but a subtle one. In a similar way to how I ended up splitting Shinya’s photos of Esaka up as signature markers, I plan to scatter the coffee cups throughout the book, rather than have them all on one page. As an ambiguous nod to COVID, I’ve also handwritten numbers underneath them. Those numbers represent the number of new COVID cases in Australia and Japan on the first day of each month. Because there is no explanation or hint as to what the numbers mean, I think it will invite viewers to imagine what they might represent and try to draw their own conclusions.

This idea of surplus and waste, which is key to our digital experience, is not one that many people seem comfortable addressing.

Hugo, P 2010, Permanent Error, photographic series, viewed 06 August 2020, <https://pieterhugo.com/PERMANENT-ERROR>

I like the unique way Martin Kollar added the tabs / sticky notes to the book, to give it that ‘notebook’ type of feel. Also like the arrangement of the images on the pages.

Kollar, M 2020, Long Stroll, photobook, viewed 06 August 2020, <http://www.martinkollar.com/photography-albums/long-stroll>

Lately I have not been sure how to continue shooting for my project, as I’ve been feeling a bit stuck and kind of sick of working on it. I feel like I’m not sure which direction to take it, or if I should stop shooting and work with what I have already captured and created. After speaking to my supervisor, it was suggested that I try taking a camera with me when I go for my daily dog walk in the bush behind my house. I’ve never really liked the Australian bush landscape, because I feel that it’s messy and dull in colour, not like rich green European forests, and so I find it really un-inspiring. But I decided to give it a try, not really knowing what I would capture.

The first things that caught my eye was the earth (above), which I thought looked like small landscapes. If you don’t know the scale of these, they could be large or small. (By the way, these are not square images- click to see the full image.)

As I walked my dog, I just started shooting clusters of trees that we passed. There are not really any rich colours- everything is subdued with a lot of grey, silver, and pale green. The lines are all messy and un-organised. But as I shot, I thought that these could perhaps create contrast between the uniformity of Japan’s landscape and social workings, and the ‘chaos’ of my current situation. I thought that what I perceive as the ‘messiness’ of the bush could be a metaphor for the messy nature of the situation, and complexity of my relationship. I also tried to make the images ‘personal’ somehow, but because I felt detached from the Australian landscape I found this difficult. Hence the photos of my dog- but I don’t think they are going to make the final cut because they are too ‘snappy’ and nobody really cares about other people’s pet photos. The treatment on the images is just basic contrast correction in RAW editing, with some slight adjustments to the shadows in the green curves channel.

When was shooting I wondered if I should work with colour or black and white, so when I got home I started to experiment with black and white. But instead of choosing a punchy, high-contrast look, I reduced the contrast a lot to give the images a kind of faded softness. They reminded me of old Australian bush photos with this treatment, but I feel like it also gave a kind of dream-like quality to the shots. I have been looking at a lot of Japanese photographers that shoot primarily in black and white too, so this influence could be rubbing off. Perhaps these images could be used as full page shots to break up sections of the book. Or maybe they could be quite small, with a lot of white negative space around them.

One other technique I tried was using a slow shutter speed to add motion to the shots. I seriously didn’t think this would be effective, but when I converted the images to black and white, they had this kind of disquieting feeling- almost like an uncertainty. You can still make out what is being photographed, but there is something a bit unsettling about the images. Some feedback that I received in class 2 weeks ago was to try incorporating something sad to my body of work- but subtly sad, not too obvious, and also just “a little bit sad.” This type of image could perhaps allude to that feeling? I could see these shots as large, full page bleeds. Next I will have to experiment with all of the images I took in the bush to see if they work with my other images. I do feel a bit surprised though- I definitely thought I would just capture awful photos that I would hate looking at, but embracing a very relaxed approach to their capture was beneficial, I think.

Nadia Sablin’s work is stunning. There is something so real and raw and honest about her images, and I am especially drawn to her portraits of young people. The light, expressions, and scenes that she captures are still and quiet, but full of stories.

Davide Montelone’s Countermapping effectively uses both text, illustration and photography to depict the stories of migrant families and their migratory experience. There are also accompanying interviews, which help to give a more rounded account to the subject’s experiences.

Monteleone, D 2019, Countermapping, photographic series, viewed July 28 2020, <http://davidemonteleone.com/counter-mapping-2019/>

I often see documentary images that capture wars in far off places, poverty and slavery, and innumerable social and political issues that exist in the world. Whilst I can easily see the skill in the photography, and understand the time and potential danger that went in to capturing the images, I often feel distanced from them. There is a sense of disconnect because the scenarios and places depicted are so far removed from the personal experiences I have had. I know that these countries exist, and I know that these problems are important, but it is hard to feel as though I am anything but an outsider looking in on a picture book of issues that don’t affect my life. It’s not to say that I don’t feel concern for the issues or the people facing these hardships, it’s more that I find it hard to relate to them on a personal note.

BUT, when I saw this one series, Urakami, by photographer Guillaume Herbaut, I stopped scrolling and just looked. And looked. The series is a visual discourse centred around the A-bomb dropped on Nagasaki, Japan, in 1945, and the horrific aftermath of that one moment. Although I am not Japanese, and don’t personally know anyone who was directly affected by this event, I have lived in Japan and visited Hiroshima many times (although not Nagasaki, they are both connected, for obvious reasons.) Every time I visit the Peace Park and A-Bomb dome in Hiroshima, I feel overcome with this strange emotion. It’s hard to describe but it is a weird kind of feeling that is similar to grief. I don’t know why I feel this way, because as I mentioned, I am not directly connected to the events of WWII. But looking at Herbaut’s images arouses a similar feeling in my chest. I’m not sure why, but they are captivating and moving, quiet but powerful. They invite the viewer to reflect, with an overtone that is solemn and strong. I think they are both beautiful and gripping.

Herbaut, G, Urakami, photographic series, viewed 28 July 2020, <http://www.guillaume-herbaut.com/en/57-2-urakami/>

These are the results of my collage trial. I just used the images that I had leftover from my mock books, but it was fun to play around. I don’t think they are all that innovative or experimental, but I don’t mind the simplicity because I think that makes them easier to tie in with the rest of the images. I think the most effective are the one of my body with a Google Earth image over the top, and also the one with just Shinya’s face ripped. The one where I tried to sew a small photo of Esaka onto my face is the least effective.