At the Edge of Darkness

At the Edge of Darkness

http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2005/12/02/1133422077020.html

Reviewer: Frances Atkinson
December 3, 2005


One of Robert Babic's photographs from At the Edge of Darkness.

At the Edge of Darkness: Photographic works by Robert Babic
Leica Gallery
December 2-14.
20 Smith Street, Collingwood.
Visit leicagallerymelbourne.com

Robert Babics's photographs may be propped up on the floor and wrapped in tight plastic, yet even from behind the plastic, as they wait to be hung on the walls of the Leica Gallery, they still manage to look intriguing. Like gifts yet to be opened. When he does unwrap them, a black-and-white world full of mystery and portent is revealed.

Babic's first solo exhibition, At the Edge of Darkness, is a collection of 16 photographs shot in black-and-white in four different countries over a four-year period. Some images give clues about where the images were taken but most refuse to divulge specific locations. "I really don't want people to know where the places are," says Babic. "The destination is not important, but the atmosphere it creates is."

Ideally he wants audiences to look at the work and let their imagination take over. Babic believes that if the location was made obvious, the mystery would disappear and make the work less powerful. Despite this, he knows some people will want specifics - but he's determined to remain tight-lipped. Some photographs were taken in Japan or Taiwan (where he lived for 12 months) and other images that look equally as exotic were taken only 30 minutes from Melbourne's GPO.

In At the Edge of Darkness Babic decided not to take photographs of people. There is the odd shadowy figure in some of his work, but essentially each image has a solitary, ghostly quality that evokes a feeling of contented isolation. It is a theme, persistent throughout his pieces, that reflects the way Babic prefers to work. "I enjoy working alone and I quite like being the only Westerner in the middle of nowhere," he says.

In an image titled Brooding, Babic spent many hours and rolls of film trying to get exactly what he wanted. Playing with scale and perspective, the photograph includes a series of steps carved into a rock sculpture. "I want people to think, 'Where are the steps going? Where do they end?' It's up to the audience to wonder about what might exist beyond the frame."

Babic was born in Switzerland in 1966. His family moved to Brisbane when he was a child. At 18 he backpacked around Europe and Britain, taking a particular interest in photographing Stonehenge. On his return, he studied art history and photography at the University of Queensland. Around that time he decided to shoot exclusively in black-and-white.

"Someone once said that shooting colour is the McDonald's of photography and I tend to agree." He admits that some photographers are doing interesting work with colour, but Babic says: "When I look back, the images that stand out in my mind are often black-and-white." He mentions the image of a little girl running down a road, covered in napalm, taken during the Vietnam War by Huynh Cong Ut. "I can't think of a contemporary war image that has the same emotional power."

For Babic, black-and-white images capture a sense of mystery and also texture and a heightened definition that colour cannot provide. "When I shoot in black-and-white I can capture warmth, simplicity and the shape of the image. Colour can sometimes appear to give you more visually, but there's a whole tonal range that only black-and-white can provide."

Unimpressed by the advances in digital photography, Babic uses an old Nikon film camera and develops his work in a darkroom. "I can appreciate that many people like to shoot on a digital because it's so convenient, but I don't." Babic believes the rise of the digital camera has made people both lazy and impatient when it comes to photography. He likes the idea of mastering a skill and the romance of watching an image slowly appear on the photographic paper.

No doubt in the very near future black-and-white digital photography will improve and match the quality Babic can achieve with his film camera, but even when that happens, he is unlikely to swap techniques. "I'll always prefer that mechanical side to photography because I don't like beeping buttons. I want freedom to shoot how I like." Babic also likes the idea of his images, which are printed on fibre-based paper, lasting 100 years or more. "With digital, you just don't know how long some prints will last. Five years, 10? The technology is too new."

There is at least one photograph in Babic's collection that does include a person. The Vanishing is a blurry, slightly surreal image of a woman holding an umbrella, looking down a long, empty road, slick with rain. It's not clear if she is waiting or leaving. The ambiguity is intentional. Babic is drawn again to shadows, darkness, intense light and all the shades in between.

Someone once said that shooting colour is the McDonald's of photography and I tend to agree." He admits that some photographers are doing interesting work with colour, but Babic says: "When I look back, the images that stand out in my mind are often black-and-white." He mentions the image of a little girl running down a road, covered in napalm, taken during the Vietnam War by Huynh Cong Ut. "I can't think of a contemporary war image that has the same emotional power."

For Babic, black-and-white images capture a sense of mystery and also texture and a heightened definition that colour cannot provide. "When I shoot in black-and-white I can capture warmth, simplicity and the shape of the image. Colour can sometimes appear to give you more visually, but there's a whole tonal range that only black-and-white can provide."

Unimpressed by the advances in digital photography, Babic uses an old Nikon film camera and develops his work in a darkroom. "I can appreciate that many people like to shoot on a digital because it's so convenient, but I don't." Babic believes the rise of the digital camera has made people both lazy and impatient when it comes to photography. He likes the idea of mastering a skill and the romance of watching an image slowly appear on the photographic paper.

No doubt in the very near future black-and-white digital photography will improve and match the quality Babic can achieve with his film camera, but even when that happens, he is unlikely to swap techniques. "I'll always prefer that mechanical side to photography because I don't like beeping buttons. I want freedom to shoot how I like." Babic also likes the idea of his images, which are printed on fibre-based paper, lasting 100 years or more. "With digital, you just don't know how long some prints will last. Five years, 10? The technology is too new."

There is at least one photograph in Babic's collection that does include a person. The Vanishing is a blurry, slightly surreal image of a woman holding an umbrella, looking down a long, empty road, slick with rain. It's not clear if she is waiting or leaving. The ambiguity is intentional. Babic is drawn again to shadows, darkness, intense light and all the shades in between.