Description
In 2016, a chance encounter with Lake Hindmarsh became a four-day photographic enquiry. Until then, the lake existed for me only as a blue form on a map – an abstraction.
As Victoria’s largest freshwater lake, it carries the visible traces of environmental cycles. Years of drought had taken their toll, yet in early 2011 the lake underwent a dramatic replenishment following regional flooding.
Arriving over Easter after a long drive, we expected the familiar rhythm of holiday crowds. Instead, there was an uncanny absence. The thought soon gave way to a realisation: we were driving across the dried-out lakebed itself.
During periods of dryness, the lake becomes a vast, grassy, sandy terrain. At night, it transforms again. Dead trees emerge as sculptural forms, illuminated by firelight and headlight beams, while the full moon casts an eerie glow. Working within this landscape, I was drawn into a deeper temporal awareness. The experience returned me to my childhood in rural Poland, our strong connection to land, seasonality, and appreciation of stillness.
This work reflects on impermanence – on landscapes that appear and disappear, and on the fragile, fleeting nature of our own presence within them.
