Join Australian Photography in Tasmania 2025

Join Australian Photography in Tasmania 2025

11 July 2024

We’re delighted to announce our once-a-year photo workshop with our good friends at World Photo Adventures is now taking bookings for November 12th – 17th, 2025.

Image: Darran Leal
Image: Frazer Leal

In 2025, you’ll join AP Editor Mike O’Connor and Darran and Frazer from World Photo Adventures as we explore Tasmania’s wild beaches and rainforests in this truly special part of the world.

Limited to just eight guests, this five day workshop will explore the stunning dunes of Bakers Beach, the lush East Coast Rainforests, and the iconic Bay Of Fires in November 2025. 

Image: Darran Leal
Image: Darran Leal

World Photo Adventures is a registered tour operator with the Australian Quality Tourism Program, and has been running workshops around the world for more than 30 years. 

Australian Photography runs just one photo workshop a year, and it’s always a sellout. Don’t miss your chance to join us in Tasmania in 2025. 

You can register your interest here.

Savoring the moments: The Tilly Project captures end-of-life pet photos

Savoring the moments: The Tilly Project captures end-of-life pet photos

There comes a point in every pet’s life when it’s time to say goodbye, but photographers around the world are making it possible for people to hold onto the memories of their loved one.


What You Need To Know

  • The Tilly Project provides families with photos of their pets as they reach old ages or get sick
  • Founded in Maine during the summer of 2021, the project has since grown worldwide
  • The Tilly Project has photographers located throughout New York, the United States and other countries

It’s a forever keepsake.

“Photographing a pet is kind of a form of closure for these families,” Ashley Carroll said.

She is a photographer for The Tilly Project, which is named after the creator’s cat, which passed away unexpectedly.

The goal of the project is to provide families with photos of their pets as they reach old ages or get sick.

Founded in Maine during the summer of 2021, the project has since grown worldwide.

“I absolutely love doing end-of-life pet photography. It’s kind of one of my favorite things to photograph,” Carroll said. “I know what these families are about to go through, and I just want to provide them with as much help as I can.”

Carroll works in veterinary medicine, so she meets many clients there but offers end-of-life pet photo sessions free of charge.

Her most recent one was with Mackenzie Lawrence, her son, Cason, and their 14-year-old dog, Max.

“I think that it’s a memory that you’re capturing, that it’s something that you’ll have for the rest of your life that you can hold on to, so it’s important,” Lawrence said.

Max here is one of more than 100 pets Carroll has photographed over the last three years.

“No family should go without these types of photos,” Carroll said.

Lawrence plans to hang the photos in her home and make an album for her son to appreciate when he’s older.  

“I think it’s so sentimental because we are always taking pictures with families and weddings and events, but dogs really are part of our family. So, I know for us, it’s important to capture those memories as well,” Lawrence said.

The Tilly Project has photographers located throughout New York, the United States and other countries. Click here to find one near you.

Someone You Should Know: Top agricultural photographer

Someone You Should Know: Top agricultural photographer

GARRETSON, S.D. (Dakota News Now) – Robb Long first started snapping photos while growing up in Richmond, Virginia.

“I started photography at the age of 14 and started shooting professionally at 16 for the Richmond Times Dispatch. And that love of photography came from just being curious and adventurous,” said Robb.

Eventually, Robb would leave the media to take a different kind of picture.

“What happened was there was a big shift in advertising photography, leading more toward authentic, real imagery. And being a photojournalist really set me up for success in that field,” said Robb.

A job at Sanford Health led him to this region. After moving to Garretson, where he now lives with his wife and three kids, the lens pointed to something new.

“We’re around all these farms and all that kind of stuff. I was curious about it. I remember probably back in 2014 or 2015, the creative director at Paulson called me up and said, ‘Hey, we really love your photography. Would you like to come out and shoot an agricultural campaign for Kubota tractors?’ And I was like, ‘What’s a Kubota tractor?’” said Robb.

Robb did that and has since become one of the top ag photographers in the world, with his work in a number of major publications.

“I absolutely just fell in love with it. I fell in love with the people of South Dakota, and I fell in love with the farming lifestyle — and then went out onto farms and just started shooting on my own personal projects. Guys in combines working the fields, seed companies, all that sort of stuff. 98 percent of my projects are all agriculture,” said Robb.

Now his business Robb Long Photo and Video takes him places.

“We’re a global production company. So we have photographed on pig farms in Europe, and we also photographed for Nutrena Animal Feeds out in California. I was just in North Dakota shooting a couple of campaigns up there,” said Robb.

He’s been featured in Archive Magazine’s top 200 ad photos worldwide, for three books in a row.

“Everyone seems to love the authenticity. And they like how I also put in a human element into the agricultural photography I do. I just don’t photograph the machines — I have people operate them, do a lot of lifestyle stuff around the machines. 90 percent of all of the ad campaigns I do, I will source a lot of the talent right from town here. They’ll see themselves on a billboard, and they’ll take a picture and send it to me. It’s really kind of exciting. It’s a lot of fun,” said Robb.

Flowing lines, intricate designs: Renowned artist Alex Janvier dies at age 89

Flowing lines, intricate designs: Renowned artist Alex Janvier dies at age 89
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Janvier, from Cold Lake First Nations in Alberta, is considered one of Canada’s greatest painters

Posted: July 10, 2024 8:45 PM

Bob Weber (new window) · The Canadian Press

One of Canada’s greatest painters, who wedded Indigenous elements to the mainstream of modern art, has died.

Alex Janvier, whose thousands of works hang in private homes and public galleries across the country, was 89.

Painting says it all for me, Janvier said in a statement in 2012. It is the Redmantalk in colour, in North America’s language. Our Creator’s voice in colour.

Officials at the Assembly of First Nations annual general meeting announced the death and held a moment of silence in the artist’s honour on Wednesday.

Janvier was born Feb. 28, 1935, on the Cold Lake Indian Reserve, now Cold Lake First Nations, northeast of Edmonton. His father, Harry Janvier, was the band’s last hereditary chief before federal law forced election officials on the band.

One of 10 children, Alex Janvier grew up on the land, hunting, fishing and trapping, as well as farming. At the age of eight, he was sent to the Blue Quills Residential School near St. Paul, Alta.

That kind of story does a lot of unusual things to your life, Janvier recalled. It tears your language, culture and beliefs. They probably removed a lot of it.

Artistic beginnings

But at the school Janvier had access to pencils, crayons, watercolour paints and lots of paper.

By the time he reached his early teens, he was under the tutelage of Carlo Altenberg, an art professor at the University of Alberta, who exposed the young Denesuline to the work of European modernists such as Vassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee and Joan Miro.

After high school, Janvier studied at Alberta’s Provincial School of Technology and Art in Calgary, now the Alberta University of the Arts. He studied with prominent artists, including Illingworth Kerr and Marion Nicoll.

In 1962, after a brief teaching stint, Janvier took up painting full time — a risky proposition for an Indigenous artist when such work was considered of more ethnological than artistic interest. Still, Janvier was able to make a living as a painter, illustrator and occasional instructor.

Janvier married Jacqueline Wolowski in 1968. They would eventually have six children.

Opening doors for Indigenous artists

In 1973, with other First Nations artists Norval Morrisseau, Daphne Odjig and Jackson Beardy, he helped found the Professional Native Indian Artists Incorporation to bring their work to the mainstream.

We had to open a lot of doors, Janvier recalled. A show in a Montreal gallery was the group’s first, and others followed.

We finally got that rubber stamp and other gallery owners started to open their doors.

Since then, Janvier’s work has been shown in galleries across Canada, as well as in Sweden, Paris, London, New York and Los Angeles.

WATCH | 1993’s unveiling of Janvier’s massive mural on a museum’s domed ceiling: 

It is widely collected, and commissioned work hangs in the National Gallery and the Royal Alberta Museum, as well as schools, commercial offices, municipal buildings and band offices from coast to coast.

His massive mosaic, Iron Foot Place, has greeted thousands of hockey fans at Edmonton’s Rogers Place, home of the Edmonton Oilers of the National Hockey League.

He also designed a $200 coin for the Royal Canadian Mint.

Unlike many other First Nations artists of his generation, Janvier’s work tends not to come directly from traditional legends and stories. He draws equally on the patterns and bright colours of traditional Denesuline beadwork and the work of painters such as Kandinsky.

But his renowned flowing lines and intricate designs are all his own.

Though generally abstract, Janvier did react to the world around him on his canvasses.

In 1988, his painting Lubicon, with its shocking reds, expressed his anger at how that First Nation was being treated. He completed a series about his time in the residential school, including one called Apple Factory. The Oka crisis in 1990 inspired him to paint O’Kanada.

He received numerous honorary degrees and awards, including the Order of Canada, the Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Aboriginal Achievement Foundation, the Queen Elizabeth Diamond Jubilee Medal and membership in the Royal Canadian Academy of the Arts.

In 2003, Janvier and members of his family opened the Janvier Gallery in Cold Lake, not far from where he was born. Visitors could sometimes meet the artist fresh from the studio, covered in paint-splattered jeans and happy to sit and chat.

He painted into his last days, keeping his fingers nimble by assembling jigsaw puzzles at night.

I am a free man because I can create, he wrote in 2016. “I thank the Great Spirit for my family and for being able to express myself through my paintings.

When I die, I want to have a paintbrush in my hand.

 

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Alaska Native Artist Spotlight: Hanna Sholl (Sugpiaq)

Alaska Native Artist Spotlight: Hanna Sholl (Sugpiaq)

About the Author: Samantha Phillips is Tlingit – Kaagwaantaan, Eagle/Brown Bear of Klukwan and grew up in Yakutat. As a young woman she learned of her Tlingit grandmother’s suffering of severe discrimination and mistreatment while attending a residential boarding school. Publicly speaking out about what her grandmother endured served as a powerful lesson to Samantha that Indigenous voices need to be heard. By focusing on making a difference, she has passionately poured her storytelling abilities into various writing pursuits. When she is not writing in her current home in Madison, Alabama, Samantha can be found making memories with her life’s work—her six children.

“I reawaken sleeping traditions,” says Sugpiaq (Alutiiq) artist and teacher Hanna Sholl. The intent look of resolve, of determination, is clearly felt when she talks about her culture. It is clear Hanna has something to say, not only in her voice, but her hands dance, illustrating her passion.

According to Hanna Sholl, many of her Sugpiaq traditions were put to sleep during Alaska’s colonization. It wasn’t until the 1980’s that those traditions began to slowly awaken from their slumber. In many ways, Hanna’s life holds a parallel.

Born in Kodiak to a Sugpiaq mother and a French-descended father, Hanna’s childhood consisted of traveling back and forth between both families when her parents separated. Raised much of the time in Portland, Oregon, Hanna felt a longing for her ancestral homelands, a connection she couldn’t quite grasp. She recalls one instance, around the age of ten, returning to Kodiak and physically feeling the sense of “home.” Hanna audibly exhales at the memory, a gentle smile warming her countenance.

As the oldest of six, responsibility came natural to Hanna. On her own at the age of 17, ambitious and determined, Hanna put herself through Cosmetology school, worked night shifts at McDonalds and even got married at the age of 18. When her mom asked her and her new husband to drive her van up through the Alaska Highway Hanna jumped at the chance. Once in Kodiak, Hanna quickly decided she never wanted to leave!

When settling into her life in Kodiak, Hanna’s mom suggested she dance with the Alutiiq Dance group. The dance group eagerly welcomed her. As she began to dance she felt a connection, she says, that was embedded in her DNA. Dancing, in fact, opened the floodgates of learning and self-discovery for Hanna.

Recounting the meaningfulness her traditional Sugpiaq dancing brought her, Hanna overflows with passion, her hands expressively reiterating her words. “I was trying to fill these holes… and I am dancing and I am singing…and I am wanting to know what I am singing so I am learning the language. And I am wanting to dance my own stuff so I am learning how to make headdress, I am learning how to make regalia and it’s all filling in. I felt myself starting to get this fire – like, if this so effective for me and it’s not being taught to our kids…what a difference it could make! All of the heartache I could’ve avoided! Had I been validated in my art and my herbal practice, along with the cultural elements that my body was craving on a DNA level.

“It pulled pieces of me that were vital to my existence so that I had to fill them with other things. It became very clear to me that this can help. This can change lives. This can make a difference. This can change our world, or our Sugpiaq nation.”

Hanna began the practice of instantly teaching whatever she was learning and not worrying about becoming an expert first. She wanted to disseminate any knowledge she was receiving as quickly as possible. Hanna credits the guidance of many fantastic mentors pouring into her thirst for knowledge. Her mission has expanded to the point of her teaching classes and materials to help people of all ages utilize art as a healing agent.

This passion for sharing fueled her mission to create a space for cultural healing through art. Hanna’s classes cater to all ages, from curious preschoolers to seasoned elders. She passionately teaches Sugpiaq designs, traditional crafts like oil lamp carving, and the stories woven into each artistic expression.

However, Hanna emphasizes that she’s not merely an instructor; she’s a facilitator of cultural revival. Her oil lamp carving class exemplifies this perfectly. While the practical skills of carving are important, Hanna delves deeper, sharing the history and traditional uses of the lamps. She connects the past to the present, suggesting suitable modern oils and wicks, and even incorporates language translations and songs into the learning experience. Her goal extends beyond classrooms; it’s about reviving traditions within Sugpiaq homes, fostering a sense of cultural identity in everyday life.

Hanna’s artistic expression extends beyond educational settings. Her murals grace the walls of Kodiak and even reach as far as Seattle’s Sacred Medicine House. Collaborations with organizations like the Alutiiq Museum further amplify her message. Together, they create educational children’s coloring books, bridging the gap between cultural knowledge and artistic exploration.

Hanna’s message for visitors to Alaska is simple: learn about the Indigenous communities before you arrive. By understanding the Sugpiaq people and their history, visitors can create a more meaningful connection with the land and its people. Supporting local businesses like Hanna’s storefront Tungiutaa in Kodiak ensures that authentic cultural experiences are available to all.

Hanna Sholl’s story is one of resilience, artistic expression, and a burning desire to heal herself and her community. Through her art and dedication, she is reawakening dormant traditions and paving the way for a future where cultural healing thrives.

Hanna invites visitors to come in to her store Tungiutaa in the Kodiak mall and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Meet the Texas Photog Going Viral for Her Impressive Polaroid Lift Skills

Meet the Texas Photog Going Viral for Her Impressive Polaroid Lift Skills

Meet the Texas Photographer Going Viral for Her Impressive Polaroid Lift Skills

Hannah Harbour’s video detailing her Polaroid lift process earned 19 million views on Instagram.

Polaroid lift by Hannah Harbour. Photo courtesy of the artist.

A photographer in Texas is going viral for her impressive Polaroid emulsion lift technique, earning kudos from fans for re-popularizing the process.

Using the age-old technique, Hannah Harbour, 31, makes surreal compositions by transferring multiple Polaroid images onto a single sheet of paper, and often experiments with processes like using watercolors over transfers of black-and-white Polaroids or adding gold leaf to her finished work.

“I’m amazed every time. Polaroid lifts never get old for me. I am in awe each time, as though I’ve never done it before,” Harbour said in the caption for one video which received 19 million views. “The results are never the same and that’s what I love.”

Harbour said in an emailed interview that she has been doing Polaroid transfers for about two years and learned the process through YouTube videos and reading articles, piecing together what she could find. The technique involves peeling away a Polaroid photo’s transparent top layer containing the image, then dunking it in water before lifting it onto another surface, usually watercolor paper.

“While I found a lot of information helpful, it really took doing it myself with trial and error to really refine the process,” she said, adding that there were small but important details missing from a lot of the guides online such as finding the optimal timing in the Polaroid’s development process when you can do a transfer because it’s a small window.

Polaroid lift showing a portrait of a woman in sunglasses holding a cigarette between her lips

Polaroid lift by Hannah Harbour. Photo courtesy of the artist.

In comments to Digital Camera World, Harbour further shared how she has been fascinated with Polaroid photographs her whole life and used to rifle through old family albums to look at the instant film pictures.

“There’s something about the instant, unpredictable nature of a polaroid that is so exciting!” she said. “Digital photography is great at capturing a moment of time, polaroid’s, however, capture the very feeling of a moment, the essence and soul of the subject in the shot; it’s magical, truly, nothing compares.”

She knew right away from her first Polaroid transfer that she wanted to document her journey with the medium and so recorded and shared a video of her very first one as a reel on Instagram. Sharing it online was her first experience with virality, which was a surprise to her. While it’s still online, she called it “an awful photo” and a “subpar transfer.”

“Since that first transfer, I have refined my skills tremendously and I now feel as though I truly understand the process,” she said. “It has been a truly humbling experience to see my work gain such a following and exposure. When you create from the heart and for the simple love of the art form, I feel you have already succeeded.”

Polaroid lift by Hannah Harbour showing three roses against a dark background

Polaroid lift by Hannah Harbour. Photo courtesy of the artist.

She thinks people have been drawn to her transfers particularly above some of her other photography because it deconstructs “such an ubiquitous medium,” adding that  “there may be a hint of ASMR in the relaxing nature of playing in pools of water.”

“The liquidity of the emulsion lift process and flowing nature of the photo as it twirls in the water felt like a natural canvas for other fluid-based mediums such as inks, dyes, and watercolors,” Harbour said when asked about her experimentation in blending Polaroid transfers with watercolor.

The photographer has detailed her processes in an illustrated 15-page guide available for purchase on her website, which she released a few months ago “as a way to give back” to the place she first learned the process—the internet. She has also given basic descriptions in her Instagram posts.

“I often pause throughout the process to appreciate the small details such as the way the emulsion dances around in the water,” she said in a post. “It’s truly one of my favorite creative outlets. I find it therapeutic and extremely satisfying.”

Polaroid lift by Hannah Harbour. Photo courtesy of the artist.

Beyond Polaroid, Harbour prefers shooting film with her Canon A1 but said that she has been recently shooting more digital photos with her Olympus OM-D E-M1, from which she said she will eventually upgrade.

She also uses the Polaroid Now+ camera, which always Bluetooth control useful for selfies—which are often the basis for her transfer prints. In one video, she showed off her Polaroid Lab device which is also useful for printing digitally shot pictures from a phone, and helps reduce the cost of what she called “not a cheap hobby.” Each Polaroid photo can cost as much as $3, which adds up over time.

“I get a lot of comments saying, ‘You make it look so easy,’” Harbour said in a post. “To that I say, I promise you there’s more to it. Ninety percent of what I film while creating these lifts don’t make the cut, simply because it’s a lot of me doing the same thing over and over to achieve the result I want.”

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Renowned artist Alex Janvier dies at age 89

Renowned artist Alex Janvier dies at age 89

One of Canada’s greatest painters, who wedded Indigenous elements to the mainstream of modern art, has died.

Alex Janvier, whose thousands of works hang in private homes and public galleries across the country, was 89.

“Painting says it all for me,” Janvier said in a statement in 2012. “It is the Redmantalk in colour, in North America’s language. Our Creator’s voice in colour.”

Officials at the Assembly of First Nations annual general meeting announced the death and held a moment of silence in the artist’s honour on Wednesday.

Janvier was born Feb. 28, 1935, on the Cold Lake Indian Reserve, now Cold Lake First Nations, northeast of Edmonton. His father, Harry Janvier, was the band’s last hereditary chief before federal law forced election officials on the band.

One of 10 children, Alex Janvier grew up on the land, hunting, fishing and trapping, as well as farming. At the age of eight, he was sent to the Blue Quills Residential School near St. Paul, Alta.

“That kind of story does a lot of unusual things to your life,” Janvier recalled. “It tears your language, culture and beliefs. They probably removed a lot of it.”

Artistic beginnings

But at the school Janvier had access to pencils, crayons, watercolour paints and lots of paper.

By the time he reached his early teens, he was under the tutelage of Carlo Altenberg, an art professor at the University of Alberta, who exposed the young Denesuline to the work of European modernists such as Vassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee and Joan Miro.

After high school, Janvier studied at Alberta’s Provincial School of Technology and Art in Calgary, now the Alberta University of the Arts. He studied with prominent artists, including Illingworth Kerr and Marion Nicoll.

A gallery room with numerous paintings hanging on a black wall.
In 2018, the National Gallery of Canada curated an exhibit showcasing 65 years of Janvier’s work. (Alex Janvier/NGC)

In 1962, after a brief teaching stint, Janvier took up painting full time — a risky proposition for an Indigenous artist when such work was considered of more ethnological than artistic interest. Still, Janvier was able to make a living as a painter, illustrator and occasional instructor.

Janvier married Jacqueline Wolowski in 1968. They would eventually have six children.

Opening doors for Indigenous artists

In 1973, with other First Nations artists Norval Morrisseau, Daphne Odjig and Jackson Beardy, he helped found the Professional Native Indian Artists Incorporation to bring their work to the mainstream.

“We had to open a lot of doors,” Janvier recalled. A show in a Montreal gallery was the group’s first, and others followed.

“We finally got that rubber stamp and other gallery owners started to open their doors.”

Since then, Janvier’s work has been shown in galleries across Canada, as well as in Sweden, Paris, London, New York and Los Angeles.

WATCH | 1993’s unveiling of Janvier’s massive mural on a museum’s domed ceiling: 

‘Morning Star’ shines at Museum of Civilization

31 years ago

Duration 4:50

Celebrated artist Alex Janvier has just finished painting a striking mural on the ceiling of Ottawa’s Museum of Civilization in 1993.

It is widely collected, and commissioned work hangs in the National Gallery and the Royal Alberta Museum, as well as schools, commercial offices, municipal buildings and band offices from coast to coast.

His massive mosaic, Iron Foot Place, has greeted thousands of hockey fans at Edmonton’s Rogers Place, home of the Edmonton Oilers of the National Hockey League.

He also designed a $200 coin for the Royal Canadian Mint.

An Indigenous man stands next to a large canvas displaying a brightly coloured piece of art.
In 2015, Janvier unveilled Tsa tsa ke k’e (Iron Foot Place), which was then installed as a 45-foot circular mosaic in the floor of Ford Hall at Edmonton’s Rogers Place. Janvier said the work “pays respect to the land area where Edmonton is located, highlighting the colours of beautiful sky.” (Lydia Neufeld/CBC)

Unlike many other First Nations artists of his generation, Janvier’s work tends not to come directly from traditional legends and stories. He draws equally on the patterns and bright colours of traditional Denesuline beadwork and the work of painters such as Kandinsky.

But his renowned flowing lines and intricate designs are all his own.

Though generally abstract, Janvier did react to the world around him on his canvasses.

In 1988, his painting Lubicon, with its shocking reds, expressed his anger at how that First Nation was being treated. He completed a series about his time in the residential school, including one called Apple Factory. The Oka crisis in 1990 inspired him to paint O’Kanada.

A painting showing an intricate design on a red background.
Alex Janvier’s 1988 painting Lubicon. (National Gallery of Canada)

He received numerous honorary degrees and awards, including the Order of Canada, the Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Aboriginal Achievement Foundation, the Queen Elizabeth Diamond Jubilee Medal and membership in the Royal Canadian Academy of the Arts.

In 2003, Janvier and members of his family opened the Janvier Gallery in Cold Lake, not far from where he was born. Visitors could sometimes meet the artist fresh from the studio, covered in paint-splattered jeans and happy to sit and chat.

He painted into his last days, keeping his fingers nimble by assembling jigsaw puzzles at night.

“I am a free man because I can create,” he wrote in 2016. “I thank the Great Spirit for my family and for being able to express myself through my paintings.

“When I die, I want to have a paintbrush in my hand.”