#RennieAndMe: photographer Robert Imhoff on Rennie Ellis’s early days
Rennie Ellis and Robert Imhoff were contemporaries in Melbourne’s photography scene: both were canny commercial photographers and genre-pushing experimentalists, both were at the centre of the city’s mid-century photography boom.
Imhoff learned his trade at RMIT, renowned then as the institution of choice for turning out technically skilled, commercially minded photographers (Prahran College, on the other hand, was considered the school for artists). Before he’d even graduated, Imhoff landed a job working for Brian Brandt, who ran a large commercial studio – and it was there he first crossed paths with Ellis.
‘I got to know Rennie from late 1968 onwards,’ recalls Imhoff. ‘His wife, Carol Silk, became our stylist in the 1970s. I saw a lot of Carol and Rennie; we all worked in South Yarra, and frequented the coffee shops on Toorak Road, and saw each other at lunches and functions and so forth.’
In those early days, Ellis was something of an inspiration to him: ‘I was a little kid on the block, and I looked up to him to some degree. We got on like a house on fire. He was always very laid-back, there was no bullshit.’
Their careers coincided with what Imhoff calls a ‘boom-time’ in Melbourne’s photography scene. Change was in the air. Photographers weren’t just anonymous anymore: they were the new rockstars.
‘There were no boundaries. We were all experimenting,’ says Imhoff. ‘I’d spend every spare second in the studio shooting for a folio and I'd stay up all night and print, trying to get perfection.’
Imhoff chalks up the cultural shift to a single film: Michelangelo Antonioni’s thriller Blow Up (1966), which tells the story of a hip young photographer in London, whose work catapults him into a world of beautiful women, fashion, pop music, drugs and casual sex.
‘It changed the whole dynamics of photography,’ says Imhoff. ‘Up until that stage, photographers wore pinstriped suits, they were dapper chaps…and then all of a sudden, we were wearing blue jeans and t-shirts and driving MGA convertibles.’ And like in Blow Up, the parties of the day were legendary.
On visiting Melbourne Out Loud, Imhoff was delighted to discover that his portrait had been included in the exhibition – albeit in a shot in which he is barely recognisable. Ellis's now-iconic photo depicts Imhoff, centre, flanked by fellow photographers Athol Shmith and Carol Jerrems.
‘Athol Shmith and I were in conversation, and I took Athol's glasses off his head and put them on,’ recalls Imhoff. ‘Athol said to me, “Robbie, show us your teeth,” because I'd had my teeth kicked in in a football match, and Carol thought he said, “Show us your tits”! So that's the look on her face.’
When asked what it was that made Ellis so successful, Imhoff credits his outgoing personality. ‘He just reached out to people,’ he says. ‘He had no problem engaging with prostitutes, bank robbers, statesmen, politicians. Didn't matter where they came from. He could engage with them and was accepted by all completely.’
‘His bloody camera came with him everywhere,’ says Imhoff. ‘He just captured everything.’
Image credit: Athol Shmith, Rob Imhoff & Carol Jerrems at Brummels 1975, Rennie Ellis, 1975.
Were you a fixture in Melbourne’s nightlife in the 70s? Spotted at St Kilda Fest in the 80s? Or perhaps a face in the crowd on Bourke Street in the 90s?
Help ensure Ellis’s legacy by sharing your story of #RennieAndMe.
By telling your story, you’ll help transform Ellis’s archive into a living narrative and enrich our understanding of the photographer’s unique contribution to Melbourne’s cultural history.
Share your memories of Rennie Ellis’s life, photographs and legacy, and help us uncover the stories behind the photos.