The photographic series Up in the Sky by Tracey Moffatt consists of 25 monochrome images that unfold like fragments from a stark, black-and-white film set in a remote and troubled Australian outback town. Though non-linear in structure, the series loosely follows the appearances of a young white woman and an Aboriginal infant, figures who evoke a fragile sense of tenderness amidst an atmosphere marked by neglect, harshness, and social decay. Their relationship—whether biological or formed through foster care—is ambiguous, yet it resonates powerfully with Australia’s history of forced separations under assimilationist government policies, particularly in rural communities.
Moffatt, known for her distinctive approach to visual storytelling, constructs rather than captures her images, drawing inspiration from a broad array of influences including personal memories, cinematic language, popular culture, and social history. Up in the Sky is unmistakably grounded in the Australian context, featuring desolate townscapes, rundown fibro housing, a mission church, and elements of fringe-dwelling life. These motifs reflect the physical and emotional isolation of the characters, and echo the aesthetic of Australian dystopian cinema, most notably Mad Max (1979). The visual style also bears a resemblance to Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Accattone (1961), with its raw portrayal of life on society’s margins.
Presented as a sequence of photographic “stills,” the work blurs the boundary between film and photography, narrative and fragment. Each image is saturated with a sense of quiet urgency, as though capturing fleeting moments from lives suspended in uncertainty. Through this haunting tableau, Moffatt interrogates themes of dislocation, race relations, and institutional power, offering a poignant commentary on the enduring scars of Australia’s colonial past and its impact on identity, community, and belonging.
