In this edition of Outside Adland, Andy Rovenko, born in Ukraine but moved to Australia in the early noughties and now a creative technologist at DDB Melbourne, tells us about his lockdown photography project. Starring his daughter, the “Rocketgirl Chronicles” garnered international acclaim, winning Photobook of the Year at the 2024 Prix de la Photographie Paris and Gold Winner for Fine Art at the 2023 Tokyo International Foto Awards and even spawned a 172-page hardcover coffee table book.
Just over seven years ago, I got into this exciting and slightly scary startup, which had the biggest impact on my non-professional life.
The job description was vague, hours long, responsibility – huge, and the prospect of turning a profit – “he’s dreaming”.
On the other hand, it involved managing rapid growth, influencing behaviour change and required resourcefulness, creative problem solving, upskilling and innovation.
As for remuneration? Emotional benefits mostly.
The startup was called “becoming a parent”. Hardly a niche thing, yet an abundance of third-party expertise proved to be of very little use in the field.
But what I didn’t see coming, was this main gig producing a spin-off of a different kind.
As all half-forgotten interests made a comeback during the pandemic, we had a few to choose from. Making space suits. Taking images the inefficient way. And coming up with the stories that transformed the old daily walks into otherworldly expeditions.
The captures of our lockdown outings escaped the bubble and took on a life of their own, getting recognition and travelling around the world from Tokyo to New York. Pretty crazy, for a little homegrown idea.
Now, besides the ambiguous job title of “Creative Technologist”, I have the bragging rights of being a published photographer, as well as “The Rocketgirl’s dad” (definitely a little too proud about this last one).
What inspired the photography project?
It could be my childhood, in its late Soviet setting. It could be all those sci-fi classics, eagerly read and watched. The mystery of recording the light on an old camera. My wife’s craftsmanship, and the resulting space suit. The pandemic effect. A bit of nostalgia for simpler times.
But above all – the imagination and resilience of a four-year-old, navigating her way through this strange world.
It would be smug to claim that the photography project originated from a conscious effort because it formed from a random patchwork of influences – by people, events and past experiences. At some point, they all clicked together and created a bit of magic.
Then, I had the privilege of being pushed. Every new ask to make a book added a little crack to the seemingly impenetrable wall of self-doubt about being able to deliver.
Being a full-time tinkerer and tapping into the knowledge of talented adland friends helped too.
After almost a year of learning and obsessing about every detail, the gamble paid off, and now there’s a special artefact from this whole journey. And I hope that the little hero of this story would appreciate having it even after she grows up.
