In Light Years (1991), Kathryn Millard reproduces the boldness of the Australian landscape depicted in Olive Cotton’s photographic portfolio. The documentary-style film eloquently examines the life of Olive Cotton, who uniquely masculinized women and the natural world, ultimately redefining photography in contemporary Australia. The National Film and Sound Archive of Australia (NFSA) worked to repair and enhance this film in 2K as part of Cinema Reborn 2024 showing at the Ritz Cinema on May 5 and 6. Cinema Reborn have stated their purpose is to uplift and preserve“treasures that exist in the world’s film archives”. This intention is wholeheartedly met; I was gifted the experience of viewing an untouched landscape, a sight that is rare in my inner-city existence.
When watching Light Years, I was first struck by the portrayal of the bush in Olive Cotton’s home in Koorawatha (a town in south west NSW), and the ingrained movement of the landscape. Cinematographer John Whitteron and editor Tony Stevens manage to create cinema that closely resembles Cotton’s photography of the natural world and the people residing in it with respect, empowerment, and appreciation. The film begins with a montage of moving water; a shot of a dark room, rainfall, waterfall, lake, river, and once again, dark room. The film ends with a similar montage, in a cyclical likeness, reminiscent of the living world.
Composed by Richard Vella, the film’s orchestration heavily relies on capturing the natural landscape, with small interludes of music underscoring the sounds of birds, rustling leaves, and flowing water worked on by sound designers John Dennison and Tony Vaccher. Notably, a sequence of bees becomes overwhelmed by a flurry of flutes, uplifting audiences with the continued motif of natural movement. This symbiosis between the mise-en-scene and the soundscape, as a standalone from the film, is a work of art.
I must admit I have a limited knowledge of the art of photography, having picked up and dropped the high school elective in the span of 16 days. To me, the form of photography felt stagnant at times, unable and unwilling to move forward, stuck at the moment of capture. Olive Cotton, as represented in Light Years sprints away from this opinion, proving me wrong and urging me to follow her.
Cotton fosters a deep and empathetic understanding of each person she photographs, capturing them honestly and candidly. Millard asks her to explore these methods, with Cotton describing the time she takes with her subjects. As she puts it, she gives them time to “thaw out” before taking the shot.
Cotton extracts the masculinity of the women she works with, and allows them to simultaneously portray softness and power. Her work feels incredibly genderless, unbound by societal binaries, and tethered more closely to the inner workings of the land. To a generation of women, this representation of gender roles was a relief. My mother audibly gasped when I told her about my review. She continued to talk at length about a specific photograph in Cotton’s collection, ‘Only to taste the warmth, the light, the wind’ (1939), expressing how, in her twenties, she strived for the freedom felt by that woman in the wind.
The film presents Cotton as a gentle, soft-spoken, and at times, too modest individual. She is portrayed through the simplicity of her lifestyle; her days of tea-making and tending to the garden, and her preference for old cameras like the Brownie Box and the Rolleiflex. When teased by her ex-husband, photographer Max Dupain, for her outdated equipment, she defiantly states, “I like my Rolleiflex!”.
Millard also follows Cotton’s decision to move away from her life in Sydney to live with her husband in Koorawatha, going on to have two children. Cotton describes her life as a mother, stating that “having children, I had a job to do, and that occupied my time”. Through this dialogue, Millard alludes to the societal limitations for non-men in twentieth-century Australia and the sad reality that a person who depicts such freedom in her subjects, is not always allowed that same autonomy in her own life.
There is an inescapable focus on light and shadow in Cotton’s work, which is mirrored in Millard’s film. From depictions of urban settings and industrial buildings in Sydney to Silver Poplars and Shasta Daisies in Koorawatha, Cotton’s black-and-white photography is primarily interested in the way the light touches these settings. When commended on this utilisation of light in Wings of Tomorrow (1945), she modestly states “It’s just the way the light happened to be. But I noticed it. That was all”.
Light Years so beautifully displays Cotton’s adoration for light, nature, and freedom through its cinematography, orchestration, and narration, carefully directed by Kathryn Millard. After watching Light Years, I, like my mother, am determined to understand and encapsulate the freedom that Cotton can evoke in her art practice. I hope that similar to Cotton’s own creative and spiritual journey, I am able to find it in the trees.
Light Years (1991) is playing at the Cinema Reborn Festival which is screening restorations of classic films at the Ritz Randwick. Click here to access the 2024 program running from May 1-7.
Student prices for tickets to the 2024 Cinema Reborn Festival have been set at $15.00.