Melbourne 1996 – A One Shot Story by David Hume

I came across this photo yesterday while looking for something else. I immediately remembered the circumstances of taking it. In the 1990s I used to exhibit my artworks in Melbourne, and I would fund my trips over there from Adelaide by doing a bit of editorial photographic work on the trip. It was for a wine magazine and I’d just shoot groovy wine-bars or restaurants for the City Scene section. I’d hunt around working for a day and that would cover my basic costs so that I could justify the trip.

The editor was very accommodating, and he’d let me do pretty much as I pleased. It was fun, because it I’d just sniff around the city looking for nice bits of light, colour and composition. I developed a sort of hand-held, blurry, close-focus, naturally lit style because that was about all I could do. I’ve written a couple of pieces about those times here on 35mmc – Why Shooting for Money is Good for You and Natural Light Portraits on E6. But back to this shot. This was taken in Flinders Street Station and it was never meant to be a commercial shot. For a start, that flouro light was such a no-no for shooting transparency when you couldn’t white balance in post. This was just for me. In fact a big part of the attraction was that eerie green glow.

I still have the gear by the way; I got this camera new on insurance and while I no longer use it I’ve never thought of selling it. It’s a Nikon FM2 with MD12. The motor drive served the functions of allowing me to hand-hold much slower, making me look a bit more pro, and allowing me to keep the camera up to my dominant left eye. The lens is a 35mm f2.8. I used to shoot all this work on Fuji Sensia 100 (the non-pro and cheaper version of Provia 100)  and there is still a left-over roll of Sensia 100 in my fridge from the early 2000s.

So what appealed to me about this shot? As I said, I remember being fascinated by the greenish glow of the fluoros and how they reflected from the tiles. I remember the shady figures walking by in coats and hoodies. I know I wanted to go for movement blur; I can’t remember the speed but it looks like maybe 1/4s to me. I was sitting on a bench with the camera braced by putting my elbows on my knees. It’s not an aggressive sort of shot – I got chased out of a pub by a seedy looking guy on that trip because I was taking (work) photos and I was not out to make any more enemies.

I think I like it because when I saw it again it brought home to me that even after thinking about photography for 30 years there are still things that have not changed for me; the tones and muted colours, how I feel about composition. I’d like to think there’s a sort of empathy here with the photographic process, how the film and lenses work together into a sort of harmony. I like the way the film renders this low light, how the lack of sharpness falls into the grain. I had to frame in-camera in those days too. I mean, I was just giving trannies over to the editor and I had no control over how they would be cropped so I tended to go in a bit harder than I would today with digital. I like the black border showing the edge of the frame, but if I added that to digital it would be naff I think.

Probably what made me smile though was how I was reminded of the excitement of this situation; of seeing something and responding to it for no other reason than the pleasure that could arise from creating something through photography.

Thanks for reading!

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