Published in On Our Selection News november 28, 2013

Why do some men feel the compulsion to photograph large machinery?

As a weary 17 year old battling the post-Schoolies flu/ depression many moons ago, I was eagerly looking forward to opening the little paper document wallet containing the photos development from my formal. I wasn’t really concerned with the classic parents-and-dolled-up-offspring-in-front-of-the- sweet-ride photo, I was more concerned about images from by grand arrival emerging from said sweet ride.

So when I finally got the pile of glossy images in my hands, I was bitterly disappointed with what I had in front of me. There was one measly picture of me arriving at was the pinnacle of my meaningless high school existence, while there were five of my close friend’s entrance. Why? Because Dad was on photo duty and my friend rocked up in a big shiny prime mover.

This story doesn’t stem from suppressed rage brought to the surface thanks to the formal pictures that are everywhere lately (although, maybe it’s not a good sign…), but because a couple of my Facebook friends went to the open day at the Wellcamp airport, and of course my newsfeed was littered with photos of excavators, which got me thinking about what drives this secret desire to photograph machines. I just don’t understand what these guys do with these pictures. Do they look at them at night after too many wines with Celine Dion blasting and think about the good times? I can kind of understand that some people need to post them on INTERAMA when they’re working at the mines, but it’s those who take the time to get them developed that I don’t understand.

Mostly, this stems from being perplexed at my father, who is known for doing this. He’s not a typical car nut – he doesn’t wear a Holden or Ford jersey and talk about “sick body kits” around the barbecue with mates (thank goodness, or else we’d never hang out), but he has this weird habit of taking photos of trucks and cars for no apparent reason at all. Family trips to museums were always documented with one or two photos featuring the beloved ladies in his life, while the rest are of his apparent other love, being other transport machinery.

Dad is a real traditionalist when it comes to technology. A man who was very skeptical and suspicious of the microwave, he hasn’t taken to the digital camera as kindly as his younger counterparts. He prefers to take real photos and have them developed so he can get them in the little paper envelope folder thing and hold them in his hands. He’s basically your original hipster (he even prefers teapots to teabags).

But what does he plan to do with those photos? I’ve asked him on many occasions, but an explanation has always alluded me. There must be something I’m not seeing here. Perhaps these men are secret artists who are able to see the beauty in inanimate machines. Perhaps they are conveying the inevitable truth that we will all one day by useless and lay unused while we are still capable of making a difference. Perhaps Dad is deeper than I thought, maybe he really is a hipster.