For the past seven years Heather Petty has returned to the place where she was born in order to photograph its derelict and abandoned homes.

On South Australia’s Eyre Peninsula she captures the beauty and memories in the decaying rubble and strewn rubbish – crystal glasses, comic books and clothing spilling out of suitcases.

The Adelaide-based photographer was inspired by the work of Canadian photographer David McMillan, who documented the growth and decay of Chernobyl over 20 years after the destruction of the nuclear plant and abandonment of the city.

Petty’s photographs featuring the rooms of abandoned houses and a roadhouse near Wudinna have formed her first solo exhibition called Long Exposure Memory.

“It’s six buildings all in various stages of decay, five on farms and one is the local roadhouse, the locals would know it as Greenspot but it was actually the Neptune Roadhouse when it first started out,” Petty said.

Finding beauty in decay

Petty was fascinated with the Chernobyl project and saw beauty in what had been destroyed.

“I’ve kind of always liked grungy kind of photos, a little bit out of the ordinary.

“Scratching around in old buildings, it’s really, really interesting because the light coming through windows or through the roof where the iron has come off casts really interesting geometric shapes or some nice light, depending on the time of the day that I was there.

“It was like watching light be cast over a heap of rubbish and decay and [thinking], ‘How do I make that look beautiful?'”

Petty said the photographs would evoke memories.

“I imagined the people there,” she said.

“One family in particular I could remember Fay standing at the kitchen, at the derelict kitchen, preparing the food for the kids, waiting for the husband to come in from the farm and kick off his boots before he walked inside and they all sat down at the table to have dinner.

“For me it was kind of like recalling a memory, it’s probably not what happened — what I imagined [had] happened, so it was an interesting way to represent decay.”

How farming has changed

Petty said rural areas had changed a lot since the homes were built in the 1950s so the photographs documented the decline of rural areas with larger farms, larger machinery and fewer workers.

“The Millennium drought really changed the way that farmers actually thought about how they approached farming in general.

“It certainly tells a lot about how the community has modified with the changing environment.

“It’s become more of a tourist destination and that’s how they focus the telecentre [community hub] on and they’ve got into some very good coffee shops.”

Petty said nature eventually would take over the buildings she photographed if they were left to deteriorate.

“[The photographs] also say a lot about how violent nature can be and it’s very hard to fight it,” Petty said.

“If you leave nature to its own devices it will do something that essentially will destroy buildings that are man-made.”

The right light

Petty said doing the work over a long period of time meant she knew what time of the day — and in what season — to photograph locations.

“I knew which room to photograph because I knew the light in the west would cast a certain light over that floor in a certain way and that would cast light over certain kinds of rubbish that were on the floor.

She hopes her photographs spark memories for the community, particularly the colourful photos from the roadhouse.

Petty’s exhibition opens on Friday, October 27 at the Wudinna Telecentre.

Getting to grips with the fundamentals of photography, such as camera and exposure control, composition, and relating a story, is essential. Sadly, there are other factors that get in that cause you to fail. Here’s why it is important to break free of those and become a successful photographer.

Identifying the Barriers to Successful Photography 

Before considering what a successful photographer is, it’s useful to look at what they are not.

There is a man with a camera who I know who is very well-balanced; he has a chip on both shoulders. He’s always raging at photographers, denigrating them, and criticizing their photography. Others tell me that he is always slating both my photography and articles behind my back.

Instead of putting in the effort to improve his work, he spends his time trying to pull others down to his level. However, the truth is that he is unhappy, and he believes that the only way to improve his lot is to attack others. That doesn’t work, and so, he becomes more miserable as a result.

In the years I have known him, he has been stuck in that vicious circle of failure resulting from his attitude. Meanwhile, many others have gone on to much greater success than he will ever achieve. As time passes, he becomes more bitter and belligerent as a consequence. He cannot see that it is his mindset that causes him to fail. That attitude also alienates him from others as he inevitably gets back what he gives and is unlikely to get support.

It’s not an uncommon story; we’ve all come across lots of people like that. Many take that lazy path of attempting to undermine others without seeing that it just leaves themselves with a bad name. I haven’t yet met anyone who is full of vitriol and has an ounce of talent.

How to Be a Photographic Success

Conversely, I haven’t come across any successful or skilled photographers or artists who are full of bile. There’s an inspirational and successful photographer I occasionally meet who is always encouraging me, and I, her. There’s always an unspoken race between us to see which of us can say something complimentary about the other’s work first. She’s always helping others and praising their work. Similarly, every good artist, musician, and photographer I’ve ever met has treated those who are working their way up the never-ending ladder of success with friendliness and support.

If I had the opportunity to promote the work of either of those two people, which would I choose? I am sure you can work out which.

Surrounding yourself and interacting with positively motivated people will rub off on you, as will mixing with people who support your ambitions. Actively being positive about other people’s art will reflect on your work too.

Should You Sit Back and Take the Malicious Venom That’s Aimed at You?

The answer to that question is no. Avoiding negativity doesn’t mean not challenging those who spread it. The temptation is to say “Yeah, whatever!” and walk away is always there, and many advise us to rise above it. However, those who post snarky comments are bullies, and I believe we should stand up for ourselves as it makes them less likely to attack other photographers.   

You’ve Abandoned Negativity, So How Do You Join the Circle of Success?

Success is a multifaceted thing that may mean financial reward to some and emotional satisfaction to others. I’ve met those who think that success in photography is having thousands of followers on social media, while others are more satisfied with a slap on the back from an established professional. Maybe, it is just being able to produce photos you are proud of or perhaps winning a prize at your camera club. It’s all about achieving your aspirations.

1. Set a Photographic Goal

Of course, to reach your goals in photography, you must first have some to aim for. I have a dislike of modern acronyms used in business, but there is one that works, and that is SMART. It stands for Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound. I won’t go into the full details of those because those titles are self-explanatory, and there are dozens of psychology websites with pages dedicated to those if you want to learn more.

2. Embrace Positivity in Your Photography

Being positive about your life, including your photography, is transformative and will lead you towards success.

We all have our ups and downs, but being positive means looking for solutions to problems and anticipating that you will find them. You will expect things to work out well. This isn’t just a magic wand you wave and sitting there waiting for it to happen, nor is it an airy-fairy idea. Positivity is being optimistic, and that means that you must believe it’s worth making the effort to work towards those SMART goals.

3. Using Personal Growth for Success

Writing for a respected photography publication was a goal of mine. The only way to get good enough was to practice. So, I started writing photography articles for a local paper. I wasn’t paid for it, but it raised my profile; I got a lot of clients because of it. Also, my writing improved. When I look back at some of my early articles, I can see how much my skills have got better. As a result of that work, and the work I did improving my photography, I was offered a writer’s position at Fstoppers. Now, I get offered other writing work. If hadn’t put in that hard graft, it wouldn’t have happened.

I’ve had some other photographic successes recently that didn’t occur by my sitting back and assuming they will happen. It meant going out and experimenting with different techniques, investing in training and the relevant equipment, and believing I could do it. I’ve had similar experiences throughout my life. Things haven’t always gone as planned, and the reality hasn’t matched my expectations. However, treating them as life experiences instead of failures helps me to move on to the next adventure.

4. Find Fulfillment

Fulfillment is very much tied to positivity and happiness and is very much a measure of success for many.

I often hear that fulfillment is tied to working hard. I think that is balderdash. It isn’t just about working hard, it is achieved by working hard at something you love and surrounding yourself with like-minded people.

I’ve worked hard for a dreadful employer in a toxic environment, and it brought neither happiness nor fulfillment. My back-stabbing boss didn’t acknowledge my successes but lied about me behind my back and set me up to fail. I still hear stories from the same organization of others experiencing the same.

I escaped that and instead surrounded myself with positively motivated people who also wanted to succeed.

Even more fulfillment comes when I share what I have learned with others. If I run workshops and at the end, the participants can take better photos, or if I reply to a client’s email question about how to achieve a certain effect, then it feels good.

5. Experimenting to Become Successful

For me, one of the best bits of being a photographer is being out at dawn with my camera and capturing a seascape with the sunrise, or an eider stretching its wings. It helps boost my mood and makes me feel more positive. That positivity gives me the courage to try something different. If it doesn’t work, I learn from that and try again until I succeed. That success leads to more positivity, and that encourages me to go out and take more photos.

6. Practice Photography to Get Better Physical and Mental Health

I am lucky to be alive and have had some close shaves with the Grim Reaper a few times throughout my life. Fortunately, I am still here and relatively fit, if a little worn and scarred around the edges.

The great thing about photography is that it helps to keep us healthy by continuously moving. Furthermore, it is a mindful exercise, distracting us from the woes of everyday life. Creativity has been shown to reduce stress and improve mental health. Likewise, getting outdoors into nature does so too. This is also a feedback loop in that improving our mental health drives creativity.

I use photography as an excuse to go for a walk or a bike ride.

7. Get the Big Bad Stuff Out of the Way First

Most commentators on success talk about eating a frog. That means putting the unpleasant and challenging tasks behind you before moving on to the more positive things. Once you’ve got that horrible thing out of the way, you will see it as a big success and the smaller, more enjoyable jobs are how you spend the rest of the day.

Having said that, I really love getting up early and being out at dawn with my camera. For me, that’s definitely not eating a frog.

Are You a Successful Photographer?

Are you a successful photographer? Do you find yourself attracted to negativity and failure? Do you practice, put in hard work, and support others, or are you sniping at those who see more success than you do? Do you get widely praised for your photography by respected photographers or just by your mom? It would be great to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Purposeful software to augment camera hardware

Rita El Khoury / Android Authority

Google doesn’t necessarily need new sensors to change the mobile photography game each year.

The face from the leftThe face from the middleThe face from the rightIn one photo

Subwolfer face v1Subwolfer face, uh, v2?!

Best Take isn’t perfect, but it helps me get the most presentable group photo out of a bunch of snaps.

Magic Editor attempts to guess what’s behind the erased element and fills it in as best as it can.

The new Audio Magic Eraser puts a tool in my hand that I never thought I could have as an audio and video amateur.

The power of post-processing vs. original captures

I’d be fine with a biennial tick-tock rhythm of hardware and then software photography leaps.

Comments

This week on The Stack we speak with Michael Famighetti, editor of ‘Aperture’, a leading voice in the world of photography. We also head to Singapore to speak with Kirsten Han, managing editor of ‘Mekong Review’, and the team at independent weekly ‘Jom’ about transitioning from digital to print.

The small coastal town of A Coruña in Galicia, northern Spain, is fast becoming an unexpected cultural destination for enthusiasts of fashion photography. In the past two years, it has hosted major retrospectives of Peter Lindbergh and Steven Meisel; this autumn, it is Helmut Newton’s turn in the spotlight, the seminal German image-maker the subject of an expansive new exhibition titled ‘Helmut Newton – Fact & Fiction’.

The reason is Marta Ortega Pérez, the daughter of the Inditex and Zara co-founder Amancio Ortega Gaona and current Inditex non-executive chair, whose eponymous foundation was founded after the success of ‘Peter Lindbergh: Untold Stories’, which she organised. Its aim is to bring such world-class exhibitions to A Coruña – Inditex is headquartered in nearby Arteixo – and support the careers of young photographers and artists. 

‘Helmut Newton – Fact & Fiction’ in A Coruña, Spain 

‘Fact & Fiction’ celebrates the prolific output of the photographer who was born in Berlin in 1920 and apprenticed under Yva, the professional pseudonym of photographer Else Ernestine Neuländer-Simon, who was part of the burgeoning avant-garde scene in Germany in the 1930s. Moving to Australia in 1940, where he served for five years in the country’s army, he would return to Europe to work for British Vogue in the late 1950s.

It was to be the beginning of an illustrious career in fashion for Newton, who for international editions of Vogue and numerous other titles created his provocative, sensual photographs which were infused with the femme fatales of film noir, S&M and fetish, and elements of surrealism. His work remains highly influential today.

The new exhibition – a major retrospective of his work – is created alongside the Helmut Newton Foundation and will be curated by Philippe Garner, Matthias Harder, and Tim Jefferies. Films will provide new insights into the photographer’s working process, while a curation of fashion imagery will capture what the organisers call his ‘bold and unapologetic’ style (such as his iconic ‘Big Nudes’ series). Portraits of numerous personalities will also feature, among them Andy Warhol, David Bowie, Karl Lagerfeld and Naomi Campbell. A counterpoint comes in a lesser-known side of his oeuvre, a series of landscape images of cities – each one resonant to his career – from Monte Carlo to Los Angeles.

‘Helmut Newton is one of that celestial band of photographers whose images are instantly recognisable as their own,’ says Ortega Pérez/ ‘Newton’s own great revolutionary act was to utterly change the ways in which women were portrayed in the pages of glossy magazines. Here were women who enjoyed style and fashion, who enjoyed the power and splendour of their bodies, women who were elegantly seductive and untouchable. His photographs were not only of his time but far ahead of his time – he spectacularly set the scene for those photographers who followed him.’

‘Helmut Newton – Fact & Fiction’ runs from 18 November 2023 – 1 May 2024.

helmutnewton-acoruna.com

The first pictures of Alessandra Sanguinetti that I saw, the ones she’s still best known for, were taken in the Pampas, or as we say in Argentina, el campo. That broad term includes both the flatlands and minuscule towns that make up the centre of the country and the fields to the north, which are richer and greener.

In that landscape, dominated by the men who work the farms, Sanguinetti met two girls, Guillermina and Belinda. They came to visit their grandmother, who lived on the farm next to Sanguinetti’s father’s country home. The photographer would ask them to play out their fears and fantasies with costumes and make-believe scenes. In one image, they float peacefully in a stream, like two Ophelias from the John Everett Millais painting.

After their first meeting in 1992, she would continue to photograph the girls for another 20 years. In her images, you see them coming of age against the backdrop of el campo — the sparse and poor place is, for them, a palace, a fairy tale. Sanguinetti captures both sides of it: that which is precarious and that which is magic.

While visiting Guillermina and Belinda, Sanguinetti was also photographing life on the farm around them. She became interested in the daily struggles of the workers and the adventures and deaths of the animals. The girls were still there, in the background, but Sanguinetti would shoo them out of the frame so that they wouldn’t disturb the animals.

Those photographs, first published 18 years ago but long out of print, are now on show again in On the Sixth Day, a book and accompanying exhibition at Los Angeles’s MACK 939 gallery. It remains one of her most personal projects. In an interview with the Argentine newspaper Página/12, she said: “As a girl, I spent weekends and summers in el campo. Those days were my true education. I learnt about death, about the relations of power between people and between people and animals. But I’ve always considered myself a visitor, even today, after all these years.”

It’s strange, but to most city people, even suburban people, the work that happens in el campo remains a mystery. The violence that takes place on that enormous plain where everything looks the same is a secret between the land and its people. But it’s all over these photographs. You can barely see any faces, only those of the animals, which are often deadly scared or just dead. The slaughter is gruesome. It’s not an industrial farm, but the workers are organised and there’s not much feeling involved. This is an everyday slaughter.

There’s no moral condemnation from Sanguinetti’s point of view. I see matter-of-fact brutality and the presence of death, in all its truth. And death can’t be forgotten in el campo. Is that a priest blessing a cow, lying dead on the ground? Bloody hands being washed while a dog looks on, like the purifying cleansing of hands during Catholic mass. Two pigs ready for the slaughterhouse, eyes closed but still unpeaceful. Birds scream, lambs try to escape. The people, meanwhile, appear hardened, older than their years, their legs swollen. They eat at tables strewn with bottles of wine, cooking pots and dead animals. Occasionally you can see a glimpse of beauty, as with the lady standing in that field, so happy in her pretty dress. But mostly the world that Sanguinetti depicts here is difficult to look at.

The Pampas are, as in many places in the Americas, lands that have seen many killings. Colonisation, beginning with the Spanish in the 16th century, tried to exterminate Argentina’s indigenous population in that region. What we have today is a big, eerily empty country: 45 million people, a population far smaller than the UK’s, but in a space more than four times the size. The sheer austerity of that landscape, so open and yet so closed, an agoraphobic’s nightmare, hides what lies beneath.

But history can sometimes be read in the names of places. In Provincia de Buenos Aires, there’s a town called Rauch. Rauch was a German colonel who participated in the battles that led up to the “Conquest of the Desert”, a military campaign led by the Argentine government to expand its borders and win land, which saw thousands of indigenous people killed. Rauch, who was known for his cruelty, died in combat, his throat slit, in 1829. Why does the town still bear his name? People there still ask that question and want it changed. Others continue to believe that the conquest was necessary.

That history shaped Argentina as we know it today. Those who participated in the battle received not only money in payment from then President Julio Argentino Roca but land as well. Lots of land — the latifundios (“large estates”) as we call them, or estancias (“ranches”). Unlike the US, which was mostly built up by smallholders, here there are families who were given land and either rented it out or paid people to farm it. These workers are the people you see in Sanguinetti’s pictures. Those landed families are behind the inequality that still exists in Argentina today. They are an aristocracy won with blood, as many are.

Many characters and myths have come out of el campo. There’s the gaucho, the lawless cowboy of the Pampas. In literature, there’s even a local genre, la gauchesca, begun by writers such as José Hernández in the 19th century. They wrote stories filled with beauty and cruelty, blood and burden; of early mornings and animals that are first companions, then sacrifices; of lonely sunsets in an infinite landscape which reeks of ghosts. There’s also much literature, mainly from wealthy writers, such as Sara Gallardo, where el campo is a place of rest and bucolic charms. But violence is always in the background. In her short novel Fever Dream, Buenos Aires-born writer Samanta Schweblin describes how it feels when a place that has been painted as a sanctuary is actually poisonous. This land has been both ever since it was christened la pampa by its colonisers.

I was always tempted to write about the Pampas, but I still haven’t. There is one photograph that reminds me of one of the short stories in my next book, A Local Artist. It’s about a couple that go to a small town to find some peace and calm but instead find something else. The photograph that brings it to mind shows a foetus of some animal, I can’t tell which. Two chickens look at it with a mixture of curiosity and sadness. Of course, you might say, these are human emotions that they couldn’t feel. But in the picture they do. We see that truncated life thrown to the ground, not with cruelty but with casualness, as if we’ve entered a land where suffering is a given. Another shows an animal hanging, skinned, in the black of the night, like an omen or a macabre offering (I can’t recognise it either. I could, but I won’t try).

On the Sixth Day is a book that forces you to look. Every country’s history is a history of violence, but in Argentina the air is still thick with it. El campo, emptied by bloodthirst and ruthlessness, serves as a constant reminder of what took place there. It’s not easy to find the moments that portray this history: Sanguinetti was brave and watched closely in order to understand how that violence was naturalised. And there’s no judgment from her. This is not a book about the treatment of animals or what we eat. She dedicates this book to the anonymous animals of el campo and to the memory of Juana, the grandmother who lived on the neighbouring farm. She has the eye of a reporter, a narrator and an artist who understands cruelty. I think many artists in Latin America do, because we live with it in many shapes and forms. That’s why here, the beauty of these photographs and the flashes of tenderness are what makes this a work of truth.

“On the Sixth Day” by Alessandra Sanguinetti is published by MACK. The exhibition “The Sixth Day” is on show at 939, Los Angeles. Mariana Enríquez’s novel “Our Share of Night” is published by Granta

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