Upon stepping into the intimate Hillvale Gallery in Melbourne, I was immediately immersed in the powerful photographs of Ioanna Sakellaraki’s The Mark of a Terrible Sun. This exhibition takes you to the Pacific Ring of Fire, one of the most seismically and volcanically active regions in the world, capturing not only the formidable landscapes but also the quiet strength of the communities living under the constant threat of natural disaster.
Sakellaraki began researching the region in 2022, undertaking her first field trip to Melanesia in 2023. Working across Papua New Guinea, Vanuatu, and the Solomon Islands, she created a powerful visual document that examines how natural disasters — both recorded in archives and relived in the present — shape a collective culture of resilience. The resulting series is more than a photographic account; it is a poetic and political meditation on survival, memory, and the endurance of communities living on fragile land.
Each work in the exhibition is an archival pigment print on Canson Platine Fibre Rag 310 gsm — a fine art paper known for its depth and detail — and some are mounted in Tasmanian Oak box frames behind non-reflective art glass, underscoring the material and visual precision of Sakellaraki’s practice.
One of the central works, Benjamin in Matupit village, Mount Tavurvur volcanic zone, East New Britain, Papua New Guinea (2023), presents its subject with a quiet strength. Measuring 50 x 50 cm and editioned at 3 + 2 AP, the image is a study in presence — not just of the individual, but of the landscape itself, charged with both threat and grace. Similarly sized, Lina on Tanna Island volcanic zone, Vanuatu (2023), resonates with a poised vulnerability, its tonal contrasts evoking both human fragility and geological intensity.
In Amos and Chris in front of Mount Tavurvur, East New Britain, Papua New Guinea (2023), also 50 x 50 cm, two figures stand against the looming backdrop of the volcano, their stance at once grounded and symbolic. The photograph balances compositional clarity with emotional weight, reflecting Sakellaraki’s ongoing interest in the encounter — between subject, photographer, and environment.
Larger-scale works, such as Ash plain around Mount Yasur volcanic zone, Tanna Island, Vanuatu (2023) and Savo Island, northern tip of Guadalcanal, Solomon Islands (2023), both at 90 x 90 cm, widen the scope. These stark, almost monumental landscapes render volcanic terrain as a visual field of memory and transformation. Editioned at 3 + 2 AP, they contribute to the exhibition’s immersive rhythm, pulling the viewer deeper into the geography and symbolism of the region.
Sakellaraki’s background in journalism, photography, and cultural studies — including an MA from the Royal College of Art and a current PhD at RMIT University — informs the rigour and depth of this project. Her longstanding interest in the role of fiction and memory within photographic practice is palpable in this series. These are not documentary images in the traditional sense, but complex visual essays where fact meets atmosphere, and archive meets emotion.
The exhibition design enhances this complexity. Varying sizes and spacing encourage viewers to shift pace and perspective, from the intimate to the expansive. Despite the minimal display, the installation feels deeply immersive — a rare feat in such a small space. Nothing feels rushed or extraneous. Each photograph holds its place, resonating within a quiet yet potent visual field.
What sets The Mark of a Terrible Sun apart is its refusal to sensationalise the geographies it depicts. The Pacific Ring of Fire — a 40,000-kilometre belt responsible for 90% of the world’s earthquakes and 75% of active volcanoes — is often reduced to a zone of risk and catastrophe. Sakellaraki reorients this lens. Her photographs acknowledge danger, but they foreground human and cultural endurance. Her subjects are not passive victims of disaster, but agents of presence, living with and through a volatile land.
In this way, The Mark of a Terrible Sun offers a counter-narrative — one rooted in respect, reflection, and artistic inquiry. Sakellaraki asks us not just to see, but to witness; not merely to observe, but to feel the slow, enduring pulse of life at the edge of the world. This is photography at its most compelling — grounded, generous, and deeply attuned to the cultural and environmental forces that shape us.
Exhibition runs until 11 May 2025 at Hillvale Gallery, Melbourne.
Read more about the exhibition: Ioanna Sakellaraki’s ‘The mark of a terrible sun’ captures the heart of disaster and resilience
