Sophia Kearns dissects the Shot exhibition as an example of photography’s power to represent snapshot eras and changing attitudes across time
“Through an exaggerated performativity, which makes it clear that we can never “know” the subject behind or in the image, these works expose the apparently seamless conflation of intentionality with meaningful visible appearance in the self‐portrait as an illusion.”
– Amelia Jones
The Shot exhibition at the State Library of New South Wales is a remarkable showcase spanning nearly two centuries of Australian photographic history. Upon entering, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of photographs covering the walls from ceiling to floor – a visual journey through time unfolding from 1840 to 2020. With over 400 works by 200+ photographers, Shot offers a captivating glimpse into the rich narratives and diverse formats documenting Australian stories since 1845, displaying evolution from earliest daguerreotypes to modern digital images.
Early 1800 photographs were dominated by portraits and an abundance of panoramic landscapes, a popular style at the time due to the technical limitations of early cameras [2]. The portrait subjects, captured on small and large glass plates, exuded a classic aesthetic – men and women with stern expressions, slightly posed yet seemingly frozen in time. One portrait stood out – a man whose image seemed to have layers within the frame, adding depth and dimension to the photograph. This daguerreotype technique involved capturing images on silver-plated copper plates, lending a unique, almost three-dimensional quality to the portraits [1]. “Seated Lady”, attributed to Thomas Glaister, reminded me of the inherent performativity that has long existed in front of the camera's lens. Even in early days of photography, subjects would demonstrate efforts to present themselves in a manner deemed honourable and sensible to the human gaze. Every aspect of their appearance and demeanour was carefully curated, from the delicate tilt of the head to the prim posture and stoic expression. Though our images now aren’t as dramatic, I found this self pride familiar, as it is still very obviously portrayed.
As I progressed through the decades to the 20th century, I witnessed a gradual shift in facial expressions and body language, reflecting changing times and experiences. One image that particularly captivated me was "William Mulready, Romani" – a haunting gelatine silver print by J.F. Smith. The subject, believed to be a mere fifteen-year-old boy, was the youngest Australian to leave with the first contingent in 1914, thrusting him into World War I at an incredibly tender age. Seated on a hay bale, his gaze met the camera with an expression far beyond his years, an insight to the harsh realities he had endured. His eyes held a weight and maturity that belied his youth, conveying a depth of experience that no child should bear witness to. This was not the image of a carefree childhood, but rather an accurate portrait of a boy forced to grow up too soon, forever marked by the violence and trauma of war's cruelty. The photograph served as a powerful testament to the resilience of the human spirit, showcasing how even the most innocent can be transformed by the brutal forces of conflict.
By the mid-20th century, photography had evolved into an art form, and the angles and compositions became more thoughtful and artistic. Subjects appeared more comfortable in front of the lens, experimenting with different poses and expressions. The 1980s and 1990s ushered in a new era of vibrant, candid photography, capturing the fast-paced zeitgeist of the decades. Youth culture, trends, and pops of colour dominated the frames, reflecting the improved technology and the photographers' immersive approach to documenting alternative spaces and unique subcultures. “Divinyls, Redfern, Sydney” by Tony Mott captured the essence of two performers in their element. Framed against the gritty back street, the subjects naturally struck poses for the camera positioned above them, exuding an aura of cool nonchalance and rockstar swagger. Their demeanour and body language projected an air of trendiness and influence. The photograph's candid yet stylised composition perfectly encapsulated the duality of these artists – simultaneously raw and polished, effortlessly embodying the quintessential rock 'n' roll spirit while also embracing the art of self-representation. Mott's lens captured the magnetic allure and undeniable charisma that defined these performers.
While the Shot exhibition showcased a vast array of photographic works, it was the powerful portraiture that left the most indelible mark, reminding me of photography's ability to capture not just physical likenesses but the depths of human emotion, self-representation, and lived experiences. Ultimately, this exhibition served as a poignant reminder of the stories that have shaped our collective history – a visually stunning and emotionally resonant exploration of the human condition.
ENDNOTES
[1] Daniel, M. (2004). Review of Review: light and dark: the daguerreotype and art history. Light and Dark: The Daguerreotype and Art History, 86(4), 764–776.
[2] Miller, A. L. (1996, January 1). The panorama, the cinema and the emergence of the spectacular. Wide Angle. https://muse.jhu.edu/pub/1/article/36148/summary
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