push it (push it good)

So I've been trying my hand at live photography lately, as you would have gathered if you read my last post, and it's been quite the challenge. This is largely because when shooting dark environments like those on a stage, it can be very difficult to get enough light through the lens; if you don't, you can end up with a black mass rather than an actual image.

There are several ways to do this, all of which I am still exploring. There are long exposures, which lets a lot more light in, but unless you have a very motionless subject you'll get little more than a blurry mess. That can sometimes be a good thing, but it's not a viable solution across the board, especially when performers tend to move. A lot. There's fast lenses (that allow you to shoot at really wide apertures), which are fantastic but, unfortunately, lenses are damn expensive so I don't have a never-ending supply. Besides which, a fast lens will only get you so far.

The final option (at least, as far as I understand) is the film. Fast films are much more forgiving in dark conditions. But if you find you still can't make it work with a fast film, you can always push it.

Pushing film is something I always meant to experiment with but for some reason never got around to until recently. It involves simply 'tricking' your camera by telling it that the film you're using is faster than it actually is, then processing the negatives according to the faster speed. The result is more grain, higher contrast and more light on the film. When I began looking at live photography, this seemed the perfect time to try it out. And the fact that I love high contrast and big grain was a bonus. The first time I tried it was when I shot Saskwatch live for the first time, but I'll post those photos separately another time. The results were mixed, but promising, with some gorgeous, exciting results. The same could be said for the above shots, which I took when Boomgates launched their album at the John Curtin Hotel late last year. I used two different types of film, which you can probably tell from the shots, and pushed both of them. While there were a lot of shots that didn't work so well, I think the above images are pretty interesting. They capture various aspects of the performance, and they look different to most live photography.

A friend of mine asked me to shoot his new band, Farrow, at The Workers Club a couple of weeks ago, so I took along a roll of colour film and, again, pushed it to make sure I could capture enough light. The lighting at the Workers is evidently pretty good (only a few dark corners), so the results were for the most part successful. While they are perhaps less unusual than the Boomgates shots thanks to the venues' respective lighting demands, they are still quite unique, with that glorious grain and contrast.

This is one of my favourite films to shoot with, and it's perfect for live stuff because it's super fast. Despite being extraordinarily tired after the night of my life at (and with) Sharon Jones the night before (more on that in an upcoming post), I took my camera along to New Gods' first Melbourne headline show at the Northcote Social Club. Again, there were some less successful results, but among them were some really interesting shots, such as those above. I particularly like those of Sam, the drummer, as the dramatic lighting on his profile is extremely evocative. I also adore the way this film makes any direct lighting glow.

And there you have it - my adventures in live photography and pushing film thus far. There are some misses, for sure, but there are also plenty of hits - or at least the promise of many more hits to come.

a portrait of a band (an ode to soul)

Though I have done a couple of significant photo shoots with Saskwatch, the band didn't ask me to shoot these images. In fact, I asked the band if they would allow me to take them.

This is an important distinction, and let me explain why: when I am asked to take publicity shots for a band, they usually come to me with some pretty strong ideas and we work together to achieve a visual representation of how they see the band, and how they want others to see the band. It's a really wonderful collaborative process. In this case, on the other hand, I had an extremely strong idea for a portrait of the band – my interpretation of the band, quite separate from (and perhaps even contradictory to) how they see themselves.

There's a slight danger here that people may take my interpretation of the band as the band's interpretation of the band. Image is so important in the music industry, so I was reluctant to even post these photos in case they were misinterpreted. But I figure that if I explain it really clearly in this accompanying text then it is probably OK. Plus the band is happy for me to post them, even though they are not images they would ever choose to publicise. And besides – how many people really read this? Hmm?

Why did I want to take these photos? No money changed hands. The band won't use them. The preparation took a lot of time, effort and expense (the letters are handmade using hand-cut A3-sized foam board, a lot of glue, and LED lights covered with cellophane. This was not an easy task). What's in it for me?

Perhaps it's my stubborn nature; I had this idea in my head a long time ago and, unlike many ideas that develop in my mind, this one wouldn't weaken. The more I thought about it, the more determined I was to do it. I suppose I also wanted to undertake a project where I was composing a portrait of a band instead of a person (or group of people). This band has no shortage of unique personalities within it. But this is not a portrait of Olaf, Ed, Tom, Liam, Nkechi, Rob, Nic, Sam and Will. This is a portrait of Saskwatch. I was excited to realise a vision that had become so clear in my head. And despite the extreme effort required and the limited actual usefulness of these shots, I am so thrilled that I followed it through.

So, what is my interpretation of the band?

Seeing Saskwatch play live floors me every time – and I've seen them play a lot – because the sounds that these nine people make are so consistently powerful. It is music the way I think it should be: when they drop back and allow Nkechi's vocals to gently break hearts, it's exquisite, and when the band slowly builds to (or hits the crowd straight up with) its full power the adrenaline in the room is palpable. The songs are composed and performed in a way that inescapably captivates people – at times it feels as though your pulse is responding directly to the sounds – and they make me fall in love with music again each time I hear them.

This is not mere hyperbole; I want to convey the power of the music as a means to explaining the visual approach I took. I wanted the band's name in lights because the music presents such an assault on the emotions: just like a blinding neon sign, the music's power is unavoidable and undeniable. It's no coincidence that soul music has been traditionally associated with vibrant, knock-your-socks-off aesthetics. The lights, the sequins, the matching suits, the impeccable make-up, the irresistible album art: these consistent visuals that accompanied the soul of the sixties and beyond did so because they visually communicated the impact of the music. Soul unapologetically manipulates your emotions in the most glorious way. Who can listen to Otis Redding's voice and not share his exquisite pain or infectious happiness? Who can hear Aretha Franklin lament being in an abusive relationship and not immediately understand what it might be like to never love a man (the way I love you)? And anyone who witnessed Charles Bradley at Golden Plains earlier this year and wasn't immediately moved by his heartbreaking voice, even if they had never heard of him before, might actually have no soul.

Having said that, there is a difference between the approach to visuals that classic soul bands took and the approach that Saskwatch takes. Where the former announced themselves as a very specific genre, Saskwatch lets the music speak for itself. A recent review of a live Saskwatch show applauded the music wholeheartedly but criticised the members' appearance and onstage presence, suggesting that they should incorporate more synchronised moves and more impressive (perhaps matching?) clothes. I think this is an ignorant and uninspired opinion. I don't think the band is a revivalist band. While soul was arguably most prominent several decades ago, that doesn't automatically tie today's soul to the superficial elements (such as costume and band art) of those older artists. Though it's a route many bands today seem to take – from skivvy-wearing sixties-sounding rock-n-rollers to long-haired seventies-loving dirty garage rockers – it is absolutely not essential, and to assume otherwise is narrow-minded at best. Regardless of music style, each band should form its own unique identity.

It is for this reason that I absolutely didn't want the focus to be on the band members. The juxtaposition between the powerhouse letters, which represent the music this band puts out, and the modesty, obscurity or total absence of the band members is what I was trying to achieve. I shot them in their casual clothes instead of the slightly less casual clothes they wear when they perform. I shot them during soundcheck and told them to pretend I wasn't there: no poses, no orchestration, no focus on their 'performance'. I used long exposures to reduce the clarity of the people, and intensify the strength of the lights.

In many ways I think the photo at the top of this post achieves my aims most successfully. While the letters represent the incredible music, there are no people. But there are instruments – because if nothing else, the people in this band are nine extraordinary musicians whose instruments represent their finely honed craft. Combined, these musicians (represented by the instruments) make this music (letters).

Like most of these images, the shot at the top features the iconic red curtain of Melbourne's Cherry Bar, which is where Saskwatch has played countless residencies over almost three years. These photos were taken during the band's last ever Cherry residency, so I'm really pleased to be essentially capturing a significant point in the life of Saskwatch: acknowledging and farewelling what some have referred to as the band's 'home'.

While the top image most successfully meets my thematic aims, from an aesthetic standpoint I think those with the band members on stage are equally successful. The lack of visual performance is a really gorgeous contrast to the letters: a group of (mostly) modest musicians at work – getting on with making excellent music, not buying into the hype that this kind of music can bring about.

And from a purely aesthetic point, this image is very close to my favourite. I absolutely adore the fact that every band member is blurred – except Nkechi, whose gorgeous stillness captures what her performance is often capable of: quieting chaos; bringing the freneticism of a bustling gig to a complete standstill with her restrained power.

So these are my portraits of a band. There was no collaboration, just a group of musicians who were willing to allow me to shoot them for my own purposes. It was such a worthwhile exercise for me – a chance to really construct something from scratch (literally and figuratively) in order to communicate a very specific perception. It also helps me to define the important difference between creating a visual representation of a band's self-imposed image, and creating a very subjective interpretation. This is certainly the most significant photographic project I have worked on this year, and it provides encouragement for me to pursue other ideas that are not designed to serve other people. Whether this kind of project will have any worth beyond that remains to be seen. But that's OK with me.

the wedding

Imogen and Ben hired a professional photographer to shoot their wedding. But they asked me to take some photos too - I guess so they would have some less conventional photos to remember the day. This was great, because I was more than happy to shoot some rolls to capture this special day, but there was no pressure to capture everything or get everything perfect because they were paying someone else to take that pressure on board... and so I decided to give them my interpretation of the event.

I'm going to post some of the results below in chronological order, but I simply had to lead with the above image because it was the standout of the day for me, and embodies the perfect (non-standard) wedding photo: both bride and groom are in it, though not front-and-centre; the warmth of the room is captured with the lovely yellow tones; there is movement in the shot, which gives it a wonderful busyness; Imogen's dress is divine; and the drummer in the foreground tells you that there was a live band, and that adds to the authentic atmosphere that permeated the venue. I find this image basically flawless in terms of my personal standards and preferences.

I didn't take any photos inside the church. It's such a special moment between the couple - the moment they are actually wed! - but I find it intrusive and inappropriate to draw attention away from them in order to get up close with a camera, which is what I would have to do to get anything that I found interesting. Besides, everyone else was taking photos of the official moment, so I figured it would be covered. I was much more interested in what happened after people came out of the church.

People are always in such good spirits immediately after a wedding ceremony. My cynical side believes it has something to do with the relief one felt as a child when church was over; as Lisa Simpson says, after church is the best time of the week because 'it's the longest possible time before more church'. But of course it's more than that. People are happy because they have watched two people pledge to share their lives together. What a privilege to witness.

The lovely bride, and her lovely bridesmaid and sister, Portia. I was frantically shooting to make the most of the glorious sun that had emerged from the clouds and was giving everyone a stunning glow. But glow or no glow, that dress would make any photo look great.

I didn't actually get many of the bride and groom - and certainly not together. But the few I did get are really lovely. Not posed at all (another benefit of not shooting as the professional photographer - no posed shots necessary), they capture the two as part of the bigger event - how they fit into the day from the perspective of a guest, perhaps.

The other two female members of the wedding party looked divine too: the unique dresses, the understated flowers, the golden hair, and that sunshine.

Imogen had put so much preparation into planning the little details for the reception, especially the flowers. I kind of guessed that by the time she arrived at the reception she would be too busy to take in all the fruits of her planning. So when we were setting up in the morning, I took the opportunity to capture a few of those little things that made it feel so special.

Then there was the reception. I really just wanted to catch people unawares for the most part so I could, again, get a sense of the atmosphere. The venue was gorgeous, and people were having such a great time - and I think that comes through in the photos.

I used a yellow flash because the colours of the place were too warm to use black and white, but I don't like a normal flash with colour photos because it often washes out skin tones and, let's face it, the photos can be boring. So according to my visual records, the night was officially bathed in a sea of gold.

I'd like to finish with this image because it's definitely one of my top five images of the day. You might know by now that I really love photos of feet, and you will know even if you've only read this entry that I like unconventional wedding portraits. Add my penchant for colourful flashes into the mix, and here's a pretty perfect photo for me! This was just before the newlyweds left the reception. It had been a long day, and Imogen's heels had started to hurt (either that or she couldn't dance how she wanted while impeded by such pesky things as shoes). And so they danced without inhibition, and then they left. And they were married.