I think it is so important to elevate image makers from diverse backgrounds that are telling deeply important but often overlooked stories. “I really hope photography can continue its path in becoming more accessible and widely utilised by those who wish to tell their stories in an empowered way. There’s an element of the unknown, unpredictability, surrender, trust – so many parallels.”Īs she continues her work behind the lens, Woodward hopes to investigate a “wider spectrum of parenthood experiences” and shed light on the rites of passage that are often overlooked – from platonic co-parenting, parenting through neurodivergence and expanding families. I need an emotional connection with those I photograph, the same way I need emotional connection with those present during my births. “I work best undisturbed, quietly, intuitively and with minimal people around. “It shares a lot of parallels, I’ve come to understand,” she explains. In all her curiosity, Woodward connects her photographic practice to the biological process of birth. “The way we frame or expect mothers to show up in society, makes it almost impossible for a mother to be her own human outside of this role – and there is of course the exhaustion, frustration, loneliness, apathy, feelings of being touched out, the sensory overwhelm,” she says. In capturing these moments, she advocates for a greater understanding of motherhood and the female body. Through her work, Woodward hopes to “elevate and explore some of the more difficult and less discussed parts of motherhood” – things like hair loss, postpartum bodies, leaking milk, or “a stealth vomit down a mother’s back”. “I often use photography as a way to pose questions to myself, to help me to reflect on my own journey of matrescence, to interrogate the way that I show up as a mother to my children, as well as using it to form a wider narrative that includes other mothers, families and their own complex, messy, beautiful worlds,” she continues. Eventually, I started documenting other mothers, families and motherhood experiences – for both my personal investigations and commissions.” “It’s a modern norm to encourage the separation of mother and child, and the return to your old self. “All of this really awakened a new desire in me to document these seemingly ordinary or everyday moments that are so very worthy of elevation and witnessing,” she says. After giving birth to her son, Woodward experienced a period of joy, grief and confusion, which she began to document with her camera. She then decided to do a degree in photography and, after finishing, took up work as a commercial photographer before refocusing on more personal projects.
I spent most of my days around town shooting strangers, my grandparents, and cousins, having them developed on the same day at the local camera shop”. When I first left home, I moved back to the town of my birth and lived alone in a small apartment for a couple of years. “I ran the little photo lab in the local pharmacy in my mid-teens for a year or so, and ended up with a couple of warnings for spending half of each shift just developing my own film. And while “most other interests and hobbies had fallen by the wayside”, photography endured. I have memories of her setting me up on a garden bench with a bunch of daffodils to take my portrait” she recalls of her first foray into image-making. “I probably took my first photograph on what I vaguely remember as an old red 110 Instamatic my mother used. Through these pictures, Woodward highlights motherhood as a role that extends beyond space, time and definition – as she puts it herself, “it’s indescribable”. Set against various backdrops along Australia’s Sunshine Coast – inside quiet corners of the home, garden and pockets of nature – parents and children pose for the camera. With deep sensitivity, her images explore what it means to be a mum and, in doing so, challenge the very definition of the word itself.
Australian photographer Amy Woodward uses her camera to document the early realities of motherhood.