How'd you make that?
Every so often, someone at Loop asks me about “that waterfall shot” pinned up in the space. They think I must have been lucky, stumbling onto the scene, clicking once, and walking away. Truth is, that single frame took me the better part of half an hour to make, and most of it was me slipping, fretting, and negotiating with the river.
Waterfalls aren’t just pretty backdrops; they’re puzzles. The light, the spray, the rocks, the chaos of branches. It’s equal parts choreography and problem-solving.
With a few of my behind the scenes posts getting a lot of attention, I figured I’d share some more tales here for you to learn and (hopefully) be inspired.
This one was made at Toorongo Falls in Noojee, a lush slice of forest northeast of Melbourne, and one of my favourite places to practice film photography in nature around Mt Dandenong & beyond.
Scouting the image
I don’t just plonk my tripod down and hope for the best. Before I even brought the camera over, I “pro-walked” the route. Think of it like rehearsal: hopping slippery logs, checking compositions with the thumb-and-forefinger frame trick, squinting at where the highlights might blow out.
The dog watched from a safe rock, guarding my bag like she knew she had an important role to play.
The Camera Gear
I’ll give you the tech details point-form style, because otherwise we’ll be here all day:
Camera: Bronica SQ-B (medium format, 6×6)
Lens: Zenzanon 40mm f/4 (a wide beauty)
Film: Ilford HP5+ at box speed (ISO 400)
Aperture: f/22 (to max out depth of field + drag the shutter)
Shutter Speed: 1/8 second (wish I had FP4+ for a slower drag, but hey, rivers don’t wait)
The Process
Here we see a quick digital test exposure, which is a rarity, because I usually delete those. But it helped me see just how wild the highlights were in the treetops and rocks. Could I tame them? And it helps me show you how far I walked up that river.
I studied how the water curved around the boulders, how the fallen tree leaned like a pointer into the frame. Then, carefully (and riskily), I balanced my camera on a rock and a log, lined it all up, and let the river do its thing.
Back in the Loop darkroom in Olinda, I burned down the brightest spots: the background trees, a few hot rocks on the right. Nothing major — just gentle nudges to keep your eye in the flow of the water.
Why bother?
Was it worth balancing like a tightrope walker and stressing about blown highlights? Absolutely.
Because the real point isn’t just the negative or the scan or even the final print. It’s that I got to spend a whole afternoon in the river, ankle-deep in freezing water, completely absorbed.
That’s why I keep going back to places like Noojee and Mt Dandenong with my film cameras. It’s as much about the walk, the wait, and the puzzle of light as it is about the final frame.