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You are loved. “It was the last time we were together at the house. I felt a sense of urgency to photograph Mum. We woke up early and I asked her to stand by the old lemon tree. In her arms she cradled the wooden sculpture that once belonged to my grandfather. The wooden face of an old man blowing with puffed-up cheeks and wild hair, so deeply interwoven with the memory of him. A longing to hold on to this moment for as long as possible: my mother, my grandfather and I”. (Photo by Tom Goldner/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

You are loved. “It was the last time we were together at the house. I felt a sense of urgency to photograph Mum. We woke up early and I asked her to stand by the old lemon tree. In her arms she cradled the wooden sculpture that once belonged to my grandfather. The wooden face of an old man blowing with puffed-up cheeks and wild hair, so deeply interwoven with the memory of him. A longing to hold on to this moment for as long as possible: my mother, my grandfather and I”. (Photo by Tom Goldner/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



The Shuttle. “As Melbourne struggles through many days of restrictions, with limited options to play and learn for the kids, four-year-old astronaut Mia puts on her homemade space suit and helmet and goes on exploration missions in the familiar neighbourhood, using her imagination to turn the mundane world around her into an exciting adventure. This photograph is one of the memories from our daily walks, one of the stories we found. The lockdowns have ended. We’ll outgrow the costume. But the time spent together exploring and imagining is one special gift to keep”. (Photo by Andrew Rovenko/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

The Shuttle. “As Melbourne struggles through many days of restrictions, with limited options to play and learn for the kids, four-year-old astronaut Mia puts on her homemade space suit and helmet and goes on exploration missions in the familiar neighbourhood, using her imagination to turn the mundane world around her into an exciting adventure. This photograph is one of the memories from our daily walks, one of the stories we found. The lockdowns have ended. We’ll outgrow the costume. But the time spent together exploring and imagining is one special gift to keep”. (Photo by Andrew Rovenko/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Where Have All The Flowers Gone. “Where Have All the Flowers Gone explores the fading magic of supernatural worlds in which Melbourne-based performance and visual artists Will and Garrett Huxley cast themselves as exquisite outsiders, isolated and ornate; existing on the fringes of places and the margins of society; finding love and solace in the florid arms of queer utopia”. (Photo by The Huxleys/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Where Have All The Flowers Gone. “Where Have All the Flowers Gone explores the fading magic of supernatural worlds in which Melbourne-based performance and visual artists Will and Garrett Huxley cast themselves as exquisite outsiders, isolated and ornate; existing on the fringes of places and the margins of society; finding love and solace in the florid arms of queer utopia”. (Photo by The Huxleys/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Fertility. “Felicity lives across the road from me. We live in a small country town. She works as a nurse and her hobby is taxidermy. Felicity loves cowboys, enjoying a drink with the girls and her domestic pets. Here you can see one of her chickens made into a red-eyed lamp (no chickens were hurt– the chook died of old age). Felicity is a fierce, independent woman who is also unapologetically herself”. (Photo by Nina Hanley/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Fertility. “Felicity lives across the road from me. We live in a small country town. She works as a nurse and her hobby is taxidermy. Felicity loves cowboys, enjoying a drink with the girls and her domestic pets. Here you can see one of her chickens made into a red-eyed lamp (no chickens were hurt– the chook died of old age). Felicity is a fierce, independent woman who is also unapologetically herself”. (Photo by Nina Hanley/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Bushwalk. “During a five-day bushwalk across their traditional homelands in West Arnhem Land, Vernon Garnarradj and his daughter Vinnisha follow a fire lit by members of their clan. These cool burns move slowly, burning only the undergrowth and removing the build-up of fuel that feeds bigger blazes. Narwarddeken people do not see fire as bad or destructive, but as a way to rejuvenate the land and bring their country back to life”. (Photo by Matthew Abbott/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Bushwalk. “During a five-day bushwalk across their traditional homelands in West Arnhem Land, Vernon Garnarradj and his daughter Vinnisha follow a fire lit by members of their clan. These cool burns move slowly, burning only the undergrowth and removing the build-up of fuel that feeds bigger blazes. Narwarddeken people do not see fire as bad or destructive, but as a way to rejuvenate the land and bring their country back to life”. (Photo by Matthew Abbott/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Siegi. “Siegi’s early morning ocean swims have become a part of her daily ritual since moving to the Gold Coast 19 years ago. Now 82 years of age, Siegi continues to swim throughout every season and rarely misses a day. She joined a group of swimmers affectionately known as The Dingoes, and on this particular day, Siegi made her daily pilgrimage amid the lingering remains of a nearby fire that filled the atmosphere”. (Photo by Stephanie Connell/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Siegi. “Siegi’s early morning ocean swims have become a part of her daily ritual since moving to the Gold Coast 19 years ago. Now 82 years of age, Siegi continues to swim throughout every season and rarely misses a day. She joined a group of swimmers affectionately known as The Dingoes, and on this particular day, Siegi made her daily pilgrimage amid the lingering remains of a nearby fire that filled the atmosphere”. (Photo by Stephanie Connell/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Indigo. “Forest activist Indigo heads into the Takayna/Tarkine forests on the west coast of Lutruwita/Tasmania, dressed as an endangered wedge-tailed eagle. Over 75 days though the bitter winter of 2021 activists halted development of roads to a proposed mine tailings waste dam. The tailings dam is yet to be built”. (Photo by Matthew Newton/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Indigo. “Forest activist Indigo heads into the Takayna/Tarkine forests on the west coast of Lutruwita/Tasmania, dressed as an endangered wedge-tailed eagle. Over 75 days though the bitter winter of 2021 activists halted development of roads to a proposed mine tailings waste dam. The tailings dam is yet to be built”. (Photo by Matthew Newton/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Tween Twilight. “Every stage of parenthood brings beauty and challenges. My daughters now enter the tween phase, moving between childhood innocence and adolescence’s rambunctiousness. It is a time of monumental shifts as they search for a sense of self and are enticed to fit in with their peer group by their dress, talk and actions. Observing them in this stage makes me reminiscent of my childhood, leaving me pondering the meaning and importance of identity. As they discover new facets of themselves, I rediscover how I became who I am”. (Photo by Natalie Grono/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Tween Twilight. “Every stage of parenthood brings beauty and challenges. My daughters now enter the tween phase, moving between childhood innocence and adolescence’s rambunctiousness. It is a time of monumental shifts as they search for a sense of self and are enticed to fit in with their peer group by their dress, talk and actions. Observing them in this stage makes me reminiscent of my childhood, leaving me pondering the meaning and importance of identity. As they discover new facets of themselves, I rediscover how I became who I am”. (Photo by Natalie Grono/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



In Leopard Print. “This self portrait is a part of a series, Beneath the Burqa, that aims to shed light on the blackout of domestic violence against women in Arab countries and communities, and to also encourage men to begin to speak out about the issue. This particular piece is inspired by the traditional clothing worn by women during prayer rituals, which has evolved past the customary plain white confines”. (Photo by Ayman Kaake/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

In Leopard Print. “This self portrait is a part of a series, Beneath the Burqa, that aims to shed light on the blackout of domestic violence against women in Arab countries and communities, and to also encourage men to begin to speak out about the issue. This particular piece is inspired by the traditional clothing worn by women during prayer rituals, which has evolved past the customary plain white confines”. (Photo by Ayman Kaake/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Ella B Rowe (right view). “I had never truly seen a pregnant body until I saw my own. I’ve known personal transformations, but not like this one. When I look at parts of my growing motherhood, I see my mother, aunties, grandmothers, cousin sisters. I see a first home for my baby. I see sacrifice where doubt was never considered or had to be abandoned. I see my purpose explained. My sexual, intimate, private commitment to myself, presenting and healing me. A journey of transition, matrescence. Everything has changed and will never be the same again. I have surrendered to this great gift of life”. (Photo by Shea Kirk/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Ella B Rowe (right view). “I had never truly seen a pregnant body until I saw my own. I’ve known personal transformations, but not like this one. When I look at parts of my growing motherhood, I see my mother, aunties, grandmothers, cousin sisters. I see a first home for my baby. I see sacrifice where doubt was never considered or had to be abandoned. I see my purpose explained. My sexual, intimate, private commitment to myself, presenting and healing me. A journey of transition, matrescence. Everything has changed and will never be the same again. I have surrendered to this great gift of life”. (Photo by Shea Kirk/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Cordy in the Clouds. “I first saw Cordy (which means ‘spirit of the sunrise’ in the traditional language of the Tjungundji people of far north Queensland) when he walked past me on my first day in Charters Towers. I was immediately mesmerised by his presence. Months later I had the chance to meet with him. He shared his story and told me of a visit to India for an archaeology conference where the locals greeted him as a holy man. I hadn’t seen clouds in the sky for weeks but while taking his portrait they rolled in behind him as if on cue”. (Photo by Adam Haddrick/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Cordy in the Clouds. “I first saw Cordy (which means ‘spirit of the sunrise’ in the traditional language of the Tjungundji people of far north Queensland) when he walked past me on my first day in Charters Towers. I was immediately mesmerised by his presence. Months later I had the chance to meet with him. He shared his story and told me of a visit to India for an archaeology conference where the locals greeted him as a holy man. I hadn’t seen clouds in the sky for weeks but while taking his portrait they rolled in behind him as if on cue”. (Photo by Adam Haddrick/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Greg & Orbit. Lockdown self portrait with cat. (Photo by Greg Stoodley/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Greg & Orbit. Lockdown self portrait with cat. (Photo by Greg Stoodley/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



The Zammitt Family. “A portrait of the Zammitt family at their western Sydney home, with their dogs, Benji and Beau. Brian Zammitt (second from left) is the head of his booming family business, BAMS Hygiene Management, one of Australia’s leading deep cleaning companies, which specialises in disinfecting workplaces and locations contaminated with Covid-19. His wife, Sandra, and daughters Natalie and Louisa all play key frontline roles in the business”. (Photo by John Janson-Moore/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

The Zammitt Family. “A portrait of the Zammitt family at their western Sydney home, with their dogs, Benji and Beau. Brian Zammitt (second from left) is the head of his booming family business, BAMS Hygiene Management, one of Australia’s leading deep cleaning companies, which specialises in disinfecting workplaces and locations contaminated with Covid-19. His wife, Sandra, and daughters Natalie and Louisa all play key frontline roles in the business”. (Photo by John Janson-Moore/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)



Breast cancer, age 37, “At age 36 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. As I searched to understand my diagnosis, prognosis and treatment options, I was bombarded with endless photos of mostly older women, smiling in pink. The brave warriors who had survived – thriving and happy. But as a young single mum of two, contemplating my life being cut short – I wasn’t smiling, I was in pain. The toxic positivity of being shown only happy survivors simply added to my anguish. I’m not brave, thriving, happy. I’m scared, scarred and numb”. (Photo by Cat Leedon/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)

Breast cancer, age 37, “At age 36 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. As I searched to understand my diagnosis, prognosis and treatment options, I was bombarded with endless photos of mostly older women, smiling in pink. The brave warriors who had survived – thriving and happy. But as a young single mum of two, contemplating my life being cut short – I wasn’t smiling, I was in pain. The toxic positivity of being shown only happy survivors simply added to my anguish. I’m not brave, thriving, happy. I’m scared, scarred and numb”. (Photo by Cat Leedon/Australia’s National Photographic Portrait Prize 2022)
09 Aug 2022 05:04:00