I was once at a couple shoot in The Rocks. It’s the oldest part of Sydney, and the most characterful if you want an urban background for your photos.
But some parts of it are a bit dingy.
I was doing video, and the photographer I was with had a quirk. He liked to count “1, 2, 3” in a robotic drone before every shutter press. And to be honest, I did find it entertaining.
But inside that robot beat an artistic heart.
You see, in the middle of that dinginess, while I’m thinking, “Gross. Let’s get out of here,” he’s spotted some rubbish bins.
All photos are just colours, lines, shapes, light and dark. At a certain level of abstraction, the humanity disappears and the geometry remains — especially when you're viewing photos from far away or as tiny thumbnails. I think most experienced camera people recognise these sorts of structures instinctively. We’ve had hundreds or thousands of hours of practice. It’s what lets us take photos quickly, but still with good composition.
Anyway, in New South Wales, we have red rubbish bins for general waste and yellow ones for recycling. And what my colleague saw in that filthy alleyway wasn’t bins, exactly — it was a neat line of red on one side, a neat line of yellow on the other, and just enough space between to fit a bride and groom.
Now, I'm not sure if the couple liked the photo. Not sure they appreciated the creativity.
But I did. I’ve never seen anything like it — before or since.
