Robert's Ramblings

I'd already wandered around the grounds of Mandalay House for more than an hour.

I Imagined spaces full of celebration and laughter, then quiet contemplative souls seeking the healing salve of a peaceful garden juxtaposed with the focus of the gardener creating, shaping and nurturing.

... and then I saw her.

She did not move as she sat on that cold stone plinth untroubled by rain or sun or birds.

Oh to be able to sit so still, at least for a little while and enjoy the sunshine and the garden of Mandalay House.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Untroubled by Rain or Sun', 1/800s f/1.4 ISO400 50mm

One of the things we have come to love, expect, admire, desire and despise are mass produced products from China.

Walk into any shoe shop 40 years ago and you were probably in a family business with an assortment of very different looking shoes to ponder and shoes from.
Most of the shoes on display would have been locally made with just a smattering of imported ones, usually Italian, in the more upmarket stores.

My next door neighbor often talks about the good old days working for local Adelaide shoe manufacturer, Clarks Shoes. He talks about the artistry of the 'last', the skill of buying the best leather and the workmanship of crafting each shoe. He made it very clear you did not need to be Italian to craft fine shoes though in his case a little person heritage might just have made a difference.

Soon the conversation veers north. Initially he talked of the buying of materials from China, then finally to the decline and transition to importing everything.
The workers retired or transitioned into other equally fragile manufacturing industries. The wonderful shoe-making machinery was either sold or discarded for scrap and a once vibrant local industry disappeared.

Now when we walk into a department store and see the same shoes replicated over and over down an isle, all we really see is cheap and made in China.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Made In China', 1/800s f/1.4 ISO400 50mm

There's more than one story here.

There is a great chalice subtly placed in the centre of the frame so as to not draw too much attention.

At first I thought that the golden underside was from years of being handled but then noticed the copper tones and tarnished bronze around the rim.

Perhaps it was made that way, perhaps it became that way or perhaps it was restored that way.

What ever its history, it is just one of many stories here.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Stories', 1/250s f/2.8 ISO160 50mm

Roman had a life long dream to come to Australia, to visit Uluru, the Australian outback and to experience as close to true wilderness as possible.

He's used to rugged terrain, to challenging climbs and to the demands of the trail but in his home near Salzburg the mountains are full of people, full of habitation and no place is truly wild.

As beautiful as the lakes and snow covered mountains of his home in the Austrian Salzkammergut are they are such a part of daily life that they ironically become just part of the local scenery.

We started out from Adelaide by car, made our way up through Coober Pedy, through to the red center of this great continent and then out west to Ulurua and Kata Tjuta. We spent a little time around the beautiful Kings Canyon before undertaking the long road trip back to Adelaide again. No matter where we were, on the highway, Uluru, Kata Tjuta, or on the ridgeline of Kings Canyon we always stopped to experience the sunset and marvel in the extraordinary places we found ourselves.

Despite his desire to to experience just how vast Australia is I think he was glad to see the end of many thousands of Australia kilometers driving or as a passenger watching the country rolling by.

Back in Austria again I am sure he remembers the sunsets, has forgotten the long kilometers and will cherish his time here.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'When Boyhood Dreams', 1/25s f/16 ISO160 15mm

Sometime coincidences are just a little too spooky.

I was a little bit lost on the the back roads of County Cork when a tiny cemetery and chapel caught my attention. Later I learned it was Kilshannig Cemetery.

Despite the rain I pulled off the road as best I could, found a small gate in the heavy stone wall and ventured inside.

I am not usually one to read the texts and think about the history inscribed on tombstones and lives lived. Instead I prefer to keep it a purely visual experience.

I spent a little while walking around the chapel and feeling the somber mood of the low light, the wintry drizzle and sullen overcast sky.

As I was ready to say goodbye and head back to the comfort of a warm and dry vehicle one tombstone caught my eye and drew me in to read the words inscribed.

'In loving memory of Jim O'Connor Pendys Cross Dromahane Died 22nd Nov 1995 ...'

Usually I would have stopped there, but something kept me reading.

His parents were buried here. His 18 month old sister was buried here. There were family here acknowledged back to William O'Conner who died in 1772.

Still, nothing too unusual for an obscure out of the way Irish cemetery ... And then I saw what was written Last.

'Tim (Timmy) O'Connor (Late of Pendys Cross) Died 18th December 1998 Interred in Adelaide Australia'

Adelaide, where I now live, and the farthest place on the planet from Kilshannig Cemetery, was the very last line.

It was chance that brought me here, it was chance I noticed this grave and unusual for me to have read the inscription to the end.

So now as I drive past any cemetery here in Adelaide I think about Timmy O'Conner, and wonder what brought him here.

Coincidence?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'When Worlds Collide', 1/30s f/13 ISO160 17mm

Connor (not his real name) and Troy are about as likely an Irish couple of lads you could imagine enjoying the craic at Maddens Bridge Bar in the seaside town of Bundoran.

... or are they?

Look a little closer and you will notice the Liver Bird, mascot of the Liverpool Football Club. Could one be an English soccer fan?

Look closer still and you might just be able to make out the Springbok, mascot of the South Africa national rugby union team. Could the other be a rugby union fan?

So perhaps we have and Englishman and a South African in and Irish seaside bar and that craic could turn a little spirited if the conversation were to turn to which game is the 'real' game.

Well for now they are all smiles and I'm glad I left the bar that way.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'The Craic', 1/25s f/2.8 ISO1600 50mm

If you were thinking I'm referring to Adelaide you'd be forgiven but if you really know Adelaide you might just be able to work out a few things.

Just because an image is out of focus does not have to mean the details yield no clues.

The title suggest travel, the forms suggest a couple rolling carry on luggage. Air travel perhaps?

If you are familiar with Adelaide airport then try and imagine walking through it with translucent glasses and trying to match any other lights, colours or textures. You wont.

If you know me you could guess at one of three different places in the world and the title might still make sense.

Are the couple walking towards me or away from me or maybe it's even a selfie?

Why are there no forms suggesting other people?

So have I succeeded in making a blurred image interesting and left you asking questions?

... good.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Coming Home', 1/60s f/2 ISO640 50mm

And we thought the way up was hard work!

The first section up that chained face of Uluru is steep and would indeed be dangerous if it weren't for the chain. As steep as it is though that first section gives only a little insight into the actual effort to complete the rest of the walk to the summit and back down again.

Coming back down, down, down again I really became aware of just how steep that climb really is and was more grateful for that chain that I'd ever thought I'd be.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Down, Down, Down', 1/100s f/11 ISO800 15mm

There's an expression regarding some people; 'you can't take them anywhere'. Well it does not apply to my dive buddy Andy who will happily dive with me in the most atrocious of conditions, and I do mean happily!

The other weekend we headed down to one of my favorite dragon lairs near Victor Harbor. The conditions looked fine as we arrived and even up to the moment we entered the water. Then it all changed.

Visibility started at around 2m which would have been fine but as we headed along the sand-line the visibility all but left us.

Pretty soon we had less than 40cm of visibility with the water full of smashed algae and all manner of benthic muck stirred up from recent swells. I do not usually get seasick but the combination of surge and colloidal muck surging back and forth a few centimeters from our faces made it a very close thing.

... and then we found our first dragon!

Despite the conditions we found four leafy seadragons this dive and none seemed too fussed, happily moving back and forth with the surge.

I was convinced my images were going to mired in backsctter and be a complete waste of time. I even left the camera in its housing all week before cracking it open and uploading my images.

They were all pretty bad but I decided in the end to show at least one of diving in the muck with a dragon.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Muck Dragon', 1/100s f/11 ISO800 15mm

We are currently caught in the grip of winter with freezing nights and cold wet days. Still Adelaide has quite a mild winter compared to other cities so you will get no complaints from me.

Clearly the city in this image its not Adelaide but Galway, Ireland and about as far away from here as you can get.

What captivated me here while standing in the freezing cold, the wind and the rain was how many people walked by with happy faces, engaged in animated conversations or just gazing at the lights and reflections in puddles in wonder or contemplation.

Perhaps the rain forces most people to put their phones away and just enjoy the things they see around them, like street lights in puddles.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'The Fascination of Puddles', 1/30s f/2.5 ISO800 50mm

We were on some lonely road somewhere near Hawker in South Australia's mid north. The sun was getting low (but not yet low enough) and an old ruined farmhouse came into view. It was the perfect opportunity to stop for some images.

I walked up to the ruins, around the ruins and captured them from all manor of perspectives before walking back to the car again. Then I noticed him.

With his tripod placed politely over the fence I watched as he captured a series of images from just that spot.

Given the remoteness of this place I can't think of any reason why you wouldn't climb that fence and explore the location unencumbered.

Perhaps he did climb over that fence after we left. Or perhaps he couldn't. I will never know.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Over The Fence', 1/100s f/6.3 ISO100 200mm

This small tree meagering an existence on the parched skyline of Kings Canyon is living a struggle which makes most of our lives look like that of pampered royalty.

If we tried to live naked in such an inhospitable but oh so beautifully place I am sure that stark beauty would be lost in self consuming misery.

Perhaps there is a message here in the will to live of a small bent tree that just might be worth noticing.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'A Bending of Wills', 1/640s f/18 ISO160 15mm

As we neared Coober Pedy from the North the landscape changed from flat to strange as the desert erupted in white cones of discarded subterranean earth.

This evening the opals of Coober Pedy did not come from the toil of miners below but from sun and the clouds and the sky above.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Opals In The Sky', 1/3s f/11 ISO250 15mm

Do you find mannequins a little disturbing but can't help stare at them waiting for a blink, or twitch or some give-away that there's something more than just paint and plastic?

Then I know you'd enjoy Nina Ventura's mannequin transformations. This image is from her exhibition at last year's SALA festival at the Adelaide Convention Center.

I am looking forward to seeing what new work she will be exhibiting next month for SALA 2016 and I will be looking for a blinks, twitch or tell-tale give-aways!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Waiting for Her to Blink' 1/125 f/2.8 ISO1600 200mm