This series of images, titled Moving, seeks to disclose the impact on the natural, which has become the urban environment of Melbourne, Australia.
Like anything, there are a series of steps that need to be followed in order for something to work properly. If this city continues to develop at the rate it is, it’s going to need to realise the desperate need for change before other consumption requirements are satisfied.
Throughout this series, each image belongs to a certain stage of human requirement where we need to sacrifice things, such as space and climate in order for us to continue our lives.
From the mining of earth to obtain and burn coal to generate electricity. Industrial materials to be made possible, where the left overs get buried back into the earth, compressed to capture the methane gasses, which is in turn generated back into more energy.
There are lots of efforts being made to put things back on the right path, yet nothing will make as much effect as resetting the entire system to something that actually works.
The effects of what we see now are from the mid 1970’s. It’s an eye opening moment to imagine what occurred during the 1980’s that will take effect on the world in the future. I hope this series helps viewers globally to realize what’s going on behind close doors to the place we call home.
— Tim Allen, Melbourne, Australia
These photos are about the loss of identity in the urban landscape. Our built environment shapes our sense of self, our sense of place and our interactions with others. In cities, buildings are the essence of our collective personality; they are the means through which we enter into contact with a place and with the society that expresses itself in that place.
I began taking these images to document the impact of a new generation of mostly undeterred and monotonous development on our social well-being. In Seattle we’ve experienced a huge transformation over the past five years during which older buildings, sometimes our most visible means of uniqueness that signal a particular neighborhood, have been displaced by metal and concrete boxes that at best have no distinction and quite often have no soul. The new construction is fast and efficient, banal and ubiquitous. It provides new and often unwanted meaning to where we live while taking away from our previous context of how and why we came to live where we do.
— Tim Greyhavens, Seattle, Washington, USA
The Island documents life on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The long and narrow string of barrier islands for many is a vacation destination. For me, it is much more. It is a place where I fell in love, married and hope to one day raise a family. The Island is my connection to a place that, like the tide, has its highs and lows.
The Outer Banks are undergoing changes from human forces and Mother Nature. Today, residents of the island are undergoing a heated debate about re-nourishing the dunes and protecting the island from the unforgiving waves of the Atlantic — or letting Mother Nature take her course and the ocean take what was once hers. No matter the outcome of this heated debate, this project serves as an important documentation as the sands of time change and shift the shape of the island.
Only time will tell if anything is left of a place I once called and still consider my home away from home. I can only hope the island is around for generations to come, but even if it is not, this project will be a testament of what once stood at the mercy of the Atlantic Ocean.
— Tim Gruber, Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA