I began photographing corrugated iron in 1994 in a car park in Kalgoorlie WA. I remain fascinated by the visual complexity of the material.
Corrugated iron has become a clichéd symbol for down-to-earth Australia and for improvisation in the face of adversity. The symbol suggests rugged simplicity and disregard for visual niceties. It may even imply ugliness. But the material itself belies the clichés. It isn’t hard to find rich varieties of colour and shape on a fence—it’s simply a matter of slowing down and taking time to notice. Each sheet of iron acquires an intricate pattern, a record of the weather and the works of men. These markings, like markings on the land, begin to hint at countless little tales of ordinary things.