{"title":"T\u0026G Publishing","description":"","products":[{"product_id":"cabramatta","title":"Cabramatta","description":"\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eCabramatta\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003e is not your typical Australian suburb. If you took a stroll through the streets of this south-western Sydney hub, you may feel like you are in Southeast Asia. However, the suburb of Cabramatta is emblematic of modern Australia – urban, busy and brimming with multicultural activity.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eSydney photographer Markus Andersen has captured this melting pot of cultures in his distinctive, street photography style. His raw, sometimes playful images show the uniquely diverse and human side of \u003ci\u003eCabramatta\u003c\/i\u003e, seizing little moments of beauty in everyday life.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eA year in the life of one of Australia’s most vivid multicultural communities, suspended in the amber of Markus Andersen’s lens.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eIn this new series, Markus Andersen has photographed more than the ordinary moments of suburban life. His images capture scents and sounds, vivid shades and intricate patterns, people lost in their thoughts, looking away or gazing at the camera with pride. His photographs reveal the complex and enchanting essence of a suburb that hardly divulges itself. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eClaire Monneraye\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eImages of Another Magic City by Claire Monneraye is Curator at the Australian Centre for Photography, Sydney, responsible for solo and group exhibitions of Australian and international artists. In 2016 she curated Markus Andersen’s Rage Against The Light exhibition. Monneraye previously managed exhibitions at the Centre Georges Pompidou and the prestigious Réunion des musées nationaux – Grand Palais in Paris, where her projects included a Louise Bourgeois retrospective and Monumenta by Anish Kapoor.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eA moment in time\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003e is written by Fiona Upward.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Markus Andersen","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54076766224721,"sku":"1001041009502","price":50.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/Cabramatta_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781598898"},{"product_id":"tough-pleasures","title":"Tough Pleasures","description":"\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;\"\u003eFood is a language unto itself. It is an expression of love, an arbiter of culture and status, a symbol of impermanence and, of course, one of life’s greatest pleasures. But its relationship with female identity is often fraught. If women aren’t held captive in the kitchen, they’re being guilted for eating too much, or too little, their body parts sexualised, commodified and packaged up, poised for consumption. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;\"\u003eIn \u003ci\u003eTough Pleasures\u003c\/i\u003e, distinguished Australian photographer Toni Wilkinson presents a series of domestic portraits which reinterpret the conflicted dynamics of femininity and food, playfully exploring provocative motifs of forbidden fruit, sexuality, religion and the absurd. Drawing on Wilkinson’s masterly skill in portraiture, \u003ci\u003eTough Pleasures\u003c\/i\u003e takes audiences on a roving food odyssey of suburban kitchens and loungerooms – encountering women proudly clutching pineapples, draping their arms in prosciutto, furtively eating bananas, or balancing an entire lobster on their laps. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;\"\u003eEschewing tropes of the housewife or the passive sex object, Wilkinson depicts her subjects as active protagonists, as the heroine triumphantly exhibiting her culinary loot, while leaving enough space for the viewer to imagine what might transpire beyond the frame. Some portraits rebel against unrealistic beauty and dieting standards, while others signal the shifting expectations around domestic labour, or the use of food in maintaining cultural heritage. It is this extraordinary diversity of imagery, and the powerful stories they conjure, that makes Wilkinson’s work so compelling. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;\"\u003eWilkinson’s rich visual language is carefully unravelled and explored in an essay by Susan Bright, an Australian\/British curator. With incredible sensitivity, Bright unearths the deeper cultural meanings and narrative connections behind the imagery, from phallic undertones to embracing “too muchness” as a feminist stance. As she puts it, “pictures of food are never just about food”.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-AU\" style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;\"\u003eA moving feast of womanhood, food and identity, \u003ci\u003eTough Pleasures \u003c\/i\u003eis at once current and timeless, intimate and freeing, leaping elegantly from pathos to humour, and proving that women can have their cake and eat it too.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Toni Wilkinson","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54076926853457,"sku":"1001042009601","price":40.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/ToughPleasures_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781602045"},{"product_id":"nature-boy","title":"Nature Boy","description":"\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;\"\u003eNature Boy \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;\"\u003eis a sequel to Australian photographer Brad Rimmer’s monograph \u003ci style=\"mso-bidi-font-style: normal;\"\u003eSilence\u003c\/i\u003e (2009). Probing at the essence of rural Australia and the emotional impact of the natural landscape upon individual psyches. Rimmer this time adds stories to the compendium. The raw, yet poetic narratives conjure the late adolescent years of a lad wrestling with whether to stay or leave his remote country homeland for the lure of the city and so much more. A coming-of-age account the elegant mix of observation and heartfelt reminiscence are almost autobiographical, and hint to the nascent sensibilities of the young Rimmer as an artist.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb style=\"mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eNature Boy \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eis a story about the ordinary; failing high school, the romance and fantasy of falling in love with almost every girl I knew and the sadness of never giving too much away in the pursuit of it. It’s a narrative about the past and its recurrence in the present. Normality is never far away; it’s a narrative that plays out repeatedly in a small town. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eIt was 1981; I was nineteen, in limbo between teenage and adulthood, in youth and boredom drawn to the heady mix of cars and speed, sport and alcohol, any of life’s extremes that presented themselves. That year changed me. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eYou cannot be untouched by a landscape of absence. I was working on the wheat bins in the north-eastern wheatbelt. An unforgiving land of Mallee and Eucalyptus woodlands and red earth on the edge the grain belt. Where decades of over cropping and droughts create struggle that changes people, mentally and physically. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eThe memory of impacting incidents and this landscape still resonate with me today, like the red earth that stains everything. Events taken for granted while testing the fragile line between life and death in becoming a man, struggling with the timeless question of ‘should I stay or should I leave’, all a part of finding your place in a small rural fringe community. It’s our history, all of it, including the long-term effects of a single action on subsequent generations, where memories continue to resonate. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eHow does our history, our experiences and our emotions shape us? How do we arrive at a time in our lives when we can find a comfortable balance between looking back and looking ahead? How does our sensory archive collect sounds, music, smells, colours, shapes and the tiniest details to trigger memories, almost cinematically? \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eOver the past five years I have returned to the places where I worked on the wheat bins. These visits are still fraught with mixed emotions and disengaging with the past remains difficult. The subjects in my photographs are local young people, the same age I was in 1981. Our meetings are brief and intense. As they surrender to the portrait, I can feel that sense of integrity and enquiring honesty that I felt as a teenager, though these subjects have no direct relationship with my past. The people in these photo- graphs own their own histories and their presence speaks of resilience and a personal human condition. Each one is creating their own story, making choices, collecting and storing their memories. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eOn the last day of summer 2015, in that same wheatbelt landscape, a tragedy occurred. It was personal and while the circumstances leading up to it were sadly predictable, as tragedies seem to flow effortlessly from one generation to the next, it is still hard to accept. Maybe revisiting was a way to reconnect with that reality of place and circumstance that is never far away, reminding me where I came from and why I chose to leave. Now there is another scarred tree on a familiar country road that I can never pass without the memory of loss. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eHow does our history, our experiences and our emotions shape us? How do we arrive at a time in our lives when we can find a comfortable balance between looking back and looking ahead? How does our sensory archive collect sounds, music, smells, colours, shapes and the tiniest details to trigger memories, almost cinematically?\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eOver the past five years I have returned to the places where I worked on the wheat bins. These visits are still fraught with mixed emotions and disengaging with the past remains difficult. The subjects in my photographs are local young people, the same age I was in 1981. Our meetings are brief and intense. As they surrender to the portrait I can feel that sense of integrity and inquiring honesty that I felt as a teenager, though these subjects have no direct relationship with my past. The people in these photographs own their own histories and their presence speaks of resilience and a personal human condition. Each one is creating their own story, making choices, collecting and storing their memories.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eOn the last day of summer 2015, in that same wheatbelt landscape, a tragedy occurred. It was personal and while the circumstances leading up to it were sadly predictable, as tragedies seem to flow effortlessly from one generation to the next, it is still hard to accept. Maybe revisiting was a way to reconnect with that reality of place and circumstance that is never far away, reminding me where I came from and why I chose to leave. Now there is another scarred tree on a familiar country road that I can never pass without the memory of loss. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Brad Rimmer","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54077089546577,"sku":"1001043009701","price":50.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/NatureBoy_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781602536"},{"product_id":"nature-boy-copy","title":"Nowhere Near","description":"\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;\"\u003eNature Boy \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;\"\u003eis a sequel to Australian photographer Brad Rimmer’s monograph \u003ci style=\"mso-bidi-font-style: normal;\"\u003eSilence\u003c\/i\u003e (2009). Probing at the essence of rural Australia and the emotional impact of the natural landscape upon individual psyches. Rimmer this time adds stories to the compendium. The raw, yet poetic narratives conjure the late adolescent years of a lad wrestling with whether to stay or leave his remote country homeland for the lure of the city and so much more. A coming-of-age account the elegant mix of observation and heartfelt reminiscence are almost autobiographical, and hint to the nascent sensibilities of the young Rimmer as an artist.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb style=\"mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eNature Boy \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eis a story about the ordinary; failing high school, the romance and fantasy of falling in love with almost every girl I knew and the sadness of never giving too much away in the pursuit of it. It’s a narrative about the past and its recurrence in the present. Normality is never far away; it’s a narrative that plays out repeatedly in a small town. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eIt was 1981; I was nineteen, in limbo between teenage and adulthood, in youth and boredom drawn to the heady mix of cars and speed, sport and alcohol, any of life’s extremes that presented themselves. That year changed me. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eYou cannot be untouched by a landscape of absence. I was working on the wheat bins in the north-eastern wheatbelt. An unforgiving land of Mallee and Eucalyptus woodlands and red earth on the edge the grain belt. Where decades of over cropping and droughts create struggle that changes people, mentally and physically. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eThe memory of impacting incidents and this landscape still resonate with me today, like the red earth that stains everything. Events taken for granted while testing the fragile line between life and death in becoming a man, struggling with the timeless question of ‘should I stay or should I leave’, all a part of finding your place in a small rural fringe community. It’s our history, all of it, including the long-term effects of a single action on subsequent generations, where memories continue to resonate. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eHow does our history, our experiences and our emotions shape us? How do we arrive at a time in our lives when we can find a comfortable balance between looking back and looking ahead? How does our sensory archive collect sounds, music, smells, colours, shapes and the tiniest details to trigger memories, almost cinematically? \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eOver the past five years I have returned to the places where I worked on the wheat bins. These visits are still fraught with mixed emotions and disengaging with the past remains difficult. The subjects in my photographs are local young people, the same age I was in 1981. Our meetings are brief and intense. As they surrender to the portrait, I can feel that sense of integrity and enquiring honesty that I felt as a teenager, though these subjects have no direct relationship with my past. The people in these photo- graphs own their own histories and their presence speaks of resilience and a personal human condition. Each one is creating their own story, making choices, collecting and storing their memories. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 12.0pt; line-height: 13.0pt; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;\"\u003e\u003cspan lang=\"EN-US\" style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\"\u003eOn the last day of summer 2015, in that same wheatbelt landscape, a tragedy occurred. It was personal and while the circumstances leading up to it were sadly predictable, as tragedies seem to flow effortlessly from one generation to the next, it is still hard to accept. Maybe revisiting was a way to reconnect with that reality of place and circumstance that is never far away, reminding me where I came from and why I chose to leave. Now there is another scarred tree on a familiar country road that I can never pass without the memory of loss. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eHow does our history, our experiences and our emotions shape us? How do we arrive at a time in our lives when we can find a comfortable balance between looking back and looking ahead? How does our sensory archive collect sounds, music, smells, colours, shapes and the tiniest details to trigger memories, almost cinematically?\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eOver the past five years I have returned to the places where I worked on the wheat bins. These visits are still fraught with mixed emotions and disengaging with the past remains difficult. The subjects in my photographs are local young people, the same age I was in 1981. Our meetings are brief and intense. As they surrender to the portrait I can feel that sense of integrity and inquiring honesty that I felt as a teenager, though these subjects have no direct relationship with my past. The people in these photographs own their own histories and their presence speaks of resilience and a personal human condition. Each one is creating their own story, making choices, collecting and storing their memories.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 9.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eOn the last day of summer 2015, in that same wheatbelt landscape, a tragedy occurred. It was personal and while the circumstances leading up to it were sadly predictable, as tragedies seem to flow effortlessly from one generation to the next, it is still hard to accept. Maybe revisiting was a way to reconnect with that reality of place and circumstance that is never far away, reminding me where I came from and why I chose to leave. Now there is another scarred tree on a familiar country road that I can never pass without the memory of loss. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Brad Rimmer","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54077119758673,"sku":"1001043009802","price":45.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/NowhereNear_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781602971"},{"product_id":"nowhere-near-copy","title":"Don't Look Down","description":"\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eFrom ancient times to the present, the Alps have had mythological, spiritual and romantic significance. Recognisable peaks, like the Matterhorn, have become trademarks for chocolate companies and the like; their rugged profiles filtering into our everyday lives, even in places far away. Over the past century, advances in engineering have made access to viewing platforms easy in the Alps, and now thousands of tourists line up to photograph these scenic vistas every day. For his series \u003ci\u003eDon’t Look Down\u003c\/i\u003e, Rimmer sought to alter these views, and thereby question the experience of what we already know in our collective memories. By deliberately inverting the image into an unnatural colour palette, the landscapes become foreign and unsettling.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eBrad Rimmer is an Australian photographer who works on long-term projects of portraiture, landscape and social documentation. Based in Fremantle, he seeks to uncover the human within often alienating everyday environs. He is the author of three photo books with T\u0026amp;G Publishing: \u003ci\u003eSilence \u003c\/i\u003e(2010), \u003ci\u003eDon’t Look Down \u003c\/i\u003e(May 2019), and \u003ci\u003eNature Boy \u003c\/i\u003e(September 2019).\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eIn 2017, Rimmer received the Artsource \/ Atelier Mondial residency in Basel Switzerland. The images created during that time form the basis for \u003ci\u003eDon’t Look Down\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003eNumerous national and corporate art collections have acquired Rimmer’s work, including the National Gallery of Australia, the Wesfarmers Collection, Artbank, St John of God Health Care and Murdoch University.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003ePaola Anselmi is an independent curator and arts writer based in Perth, Western Australia. Over 25 years she has held curatorial and research roles at several prestigious art institutions and collections including the Art Gallery of Western Australia and the Centre for Contemporary Art Luigi Pecci, Prato, Italy. A PhD candidate at the University of Western Australia, her research focus is Western Australian photographic history. She is a regular contributor to Australian arts publications on Western Australian contemporary practice and has published numerous exhibition catalogue essays.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Brad Rimmer","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54077216063825,"sku":"1001043009902","price":45.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/DontLookDown_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781603359"},{"product_id":"waiting-under-southern-skies","title":"Waiting Under Southern Skies","description":"\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eIn \u003ci\u003eWaiting Under Southern Skies\u003c\/i\u003e, Colin Abbott shares images made over a lifetime of photographic observation. Many of the photographs included are drawn from his personal archive and are published or exhibited here for the first time. These images are not simply historical records—they are fragments of lived experience, distilled through Abbott’s particular way of seeing.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eTogether, they form a visual storyboard of Abbott’s life—where the actors, scenes, and narratives are open to re-interpretation. Abbott allows space for the viewer to bring their own memories, feelings, and associations to the images. For those of us who lived through the eras represented, these photographs will stir recollections—triggered by the familiar details of the time: the fashion, the cars, the street scenes, the gestures and expressions of people engaged in everyday life. These details are both evocative and nostalgic.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eFor others, these images may function as a time capsule—a window into an Australia that no longer exists, yet still resonates. Abbott’s photographs reveal subtle social insights: how culture was expressed through clothing and posture, how suburban life revolved around front porches and civic spaces, and how community was experienced on the street and in the shared rituals of daily life.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eAbbott began his photographic journey in early 1970s Sydney under the mentorship of photographer John Wong, working alongside peers such as Ian Dodd, Stephen Crowfoot, and Rodney Scherer. Between 1974 and 1976, he studied at the celebrated Prahran College of Advanced Education—then a hub for innovative and influential Australian photography. Abbott was part of a generation that included Andrew Chapman, Jess Ward, Julie Millowick, and James McArdle, and studied under renowned practitioners such as Athol Shmith, John Cato, Paul Cox, Norbert Loeffler, and Brian Gracey. This was the era of Carol Jerrems, Bill Henson, and Sue Ford—photographers who reshaped Australian visual culture and documentary storytelling.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eAbbott’s early work, shot on monochrome film, reflects the discipline and deliberation of an analogue era. With only 36 exposures per roll and the requirement for darkroom processing, each frame was made with intent. His photographs, then and now, are marked by a sense of intellectual and visual clarity—carefully observed, deeply felt.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eWorking in the tradition of social documentary photography, Abbott has undertaken several long-term projects. A six-week commission documenting Melbourne’s Prahran Market in the 1970s was later acknowledged for its cultural significance in an exhibition and publication celebrating the Market’s 150th anniversary. Another key series spans decades of Anzac Day marches, beginning in the 1970s and continuing into the 2010s. These images form a powerful comparative archive, revealing how public commemorations shift over time—reflecting evolving identities, national narratives, and cultural attitudes toward war and memory.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"p1\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eThough Abbott pursued a professional career outside photography, he never let go of the camera. Photography has remained a constant, quiet companion—a way of looking, remembering, and sharing. Through \u003ci\u003eWaiting Under Southern Skies\u003c\/i\u003e, we are offered a rare and generous gift: the chance to witness not only Abbott’s Australia, but our own, reimagined through his lens.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Colin Abbott","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54077485187409,"sku":"1001044010002","price":35.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/WaitingUnderSouthernSkies_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781604413"},{"product_id":"intimate","title":"Intimate","description":"\u003cp style=\"mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; line-height: normal; mso-outline-level: 4;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; color: red; mso-font-kerning: .5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eThe introductory text \u003ci\u003eA Move To Acquiescence\u003c\/i\u003e in \u003ci\u003eIntimate\u003c\/i\u003e is written by Robin Titchener, a renowned UK based photobook collector and reviewer. The essay \u003ci\u003eThe Topography of Loss\u003c\/i\u003e is written by the book’s editor Rosamund Brennan, an Australian art writer and editor published in \u003ci style=\"mso-bidi-font-style: normal;\"\u003eThe Guardian\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci style=\"mso-bidi-font-style: normal;\"\u003eDeutsche Welle\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci style=\"mso-bidi-font-style: normal;\"\u003eAl Jazeera\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"Body\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003eA pool of sweat shimmers across a commuter’s forehead. Anguished faces gape into the blinding sun. Women and men in suits dart beneath the awning of a construction site, walking in unison but somehow entirely unaware of each other, ensconced within their own oblivion. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"Body\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"Body\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003ePulverised light seeps into every crack and crevice, exposing furrowed brows, blemishes and worry lines – those strangely beautiful features that philosopher Umberto Eco referred to as the “infinite ugliness”. Scurrying through the arteries of the city, these nameless faces appear to be searching for something elliptical, something just out of reach. Like entering a room with great purpose, and at once forgetting why you are there. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"Body\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"Body\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003eAs if emerging from a dream, eidetic visions of the environment speckle the urban landscapes. Shafts of light filter through a motionless forest, rain casts concentric circles over a body of water; summoning a feeling of tenderness, a nostalgia for the gentle poetry and serenity of nature. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"Body\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial; color: windowtext;\" lang=\"EN-US\" data-darkreader-inline-color=\"\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eA cinematic meditation on nature and civilisation, Markus Andersen’s\u003ci\u003e Intimate\u003c\/i\u003e plunges us into minutiae of urban life in Sydney. Using a telephoto lens, he carves a silent path through the city, capturing a procession of nameless faces, their expressions blown up and immortalised in black and white.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"line-height: 115%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003e“I shoot fast, take the frame and move. I guess it’s like trying to capture lightning in a bottle,” Andersen says. Shot in extreme close-up and drenched in sunlight, his moody, monochromatic images transmit the full spectrum of human emotion. The inner battles, the hidden vulnerabilities, are laid bare for all to see. Masterfully juxtaposing street photography with tender portraits of the environment, Andersen evokes a bittersweet sense of nostalgia, of disconnection, and denial.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"line-height: 115%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eAt once mesmeric and beckoning, \u003ci\u003eIntimate\u003c\/i\u003e transports us to the dark heart of urbanisation and our seemingly limitless appetite for destruction. In doing so, he sheds light on our dormant yearnings to be reacquainted with the natural world and, ultimately, our complicity in its demise. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"line-height: 115%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Arial',sans-serif;\"\u003eMarkus Andersen has a significant exhibition profile with solo and collaborative shows held in New York, Paris, Toronto, Istanbul, United Kingdom and Sydney. His work has been the subject of two publications, \u003ci\u003eCabramatta – A Moment in Time\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eRage Against the Light\u003c\/i\u003e, both produced by T\u0026amp;G Publishing.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Markus Andersen","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":54077527785809,"sku":"1001041010102","price":50.0,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0857\/1673\/0193\/files\/Intimate_Cover_Lite.jpg?v=1781604897"}],"url":"https:\/\/rrbphotobooks.com\/collections\/t-g-publishing.oembed","provider":"RRB Photobooks","version":"1.0","type":"link"}