Scanning Ned Kelly: a deeper look at an Australian icon

In a small, carefully controlled room at State Library Victoria, conservators gently manoeuvred pieces of Ned Kelly's armour onto cushioned surfaces. For over a century, these metal relics have been among Australia's most viewed cultural artefacts—silent witnesses to a controversial chapter in colonial history. But for a few remarkable days, they were about to reveal themselves in unprecedented detail.

A narrow window of opportunity

When the Library received funding for a new gallery, it triggered a rare occurrence: the temporary removal of Ned Kelly's armour from public display. For most visitors, this simply meant a few days without public access to one of the Library’s most notable collection items. But for the Library’s Creative Studio, a team focused on developing digital experiences for the public, it represented a tantalising opportunity.

'Normally it would be impossible to say "I know this is our most important object, but we just want to take it out of the case for three days to scan it." So we took this opportunity to dive in', shares Mike Daly 1, head of Creative Studio.

Kelly's armour isn't just a historical artefact, it's a powerful Australian symbol that resonates across generations. The distinctive helmet with its narrow eye slit has become one of Australia's most recognisable cultural icons, appearing in artwork, literature, and even the 2000 Sydney Olympics. For many Australians, it represents resourcefulness and resistance against authority, while for others, it's a complex reminder of violence and outlaw justice. This divided legacy makes the armour not just historically significant but culturally alive—a perfect candidate for digital preservation that can reveal its details to all sides of the ongoing conversation about Kelly's place in Australian identity.

With the stars all aligned, the team embarked on an ambitious technological journey to capture perfect digital models of the armour, and in turn, increase public access to this controversial relic of Australian history.

Capturing what the eye can't see

The technical process behind scanning the armour was meticulous. Not only was the project motivated by a desire for increased public access, but by a fascination with the power of current 3D imaging technology. 'We were trying to do something that’s been done before, sure, but do it to the nth degree, and see how much quality we can eke out of it', Mike says.

Given the many methods that exist for digitally capturing 3D objects, called ‘realia’ 2 in Library terms, the team set out to test which technology could truly capture every nook and cranny of these historic objects. When planning a scanning solution for the armour, consideration was given not only to capturing the volumetric shape but also how the metallic surface would respond. So a special form of photogrammetry 3 was chosen. Photogrammetry is a technological process in which 3D objects are systematically photographed from countless viewpoints, and the resulting photos are digitally compared and composited to create a photorealistic 3D model. The process is a bit like assembling a 3D puzzle from hundreds of 2D pieces. While the technique has been around for decades, recent advances in 3D rendering technology and computer processing power have vastly improved the potential results.

With limited time to achieve perfection and a determination to reach the highest possible accuracy, Creative Studio brought in Matt Hermans 4, founder of Electric Lens Co. and a digital visual effects (VFX) expert, to lead the technical aspects of the project. Matt developed a comprehensive workflow, from capturing intricate details of the items, through processing and modelling, to refining the images, resulting in stunning digital replicas of these historic Australian artefacts.

Matt’s long-term collaborators Tom Brandon 5 and Richard Kendall 6, co-founders of Melbourne-based Splice Boys were recruited to perform the photogrammetry process. 

The Splice Boys’ set-up was deceptively simple, rather than rigging up the hundreds of cameras they frequently use to create Matrix-like visuals, they opted for a single extremely high-resolution camera for maximum detail. The camera was mounted on a tripod for stability. A ring light and a cross-polarised light filter were both added, to help eliminate shadows and highlights from the target object's surface. With the single-camera rig set up, the team began capturing the object.

Given the delicate nature of the objects, the Library’s conservation team was a critical part of the process. They carefully placed each piece of the armour onto a cushioned turntable to allow capture from every angle with minimal disturbance to the objects. This sensitive process took two to three hours per object. After two full days of shooting and hundreds of intensely detailed photographs per item, it was time for the digital re-creation phase. 

From photos to digital form

With thousands of photographs in hand, Matt began generating the ‘digital twins’ 7 of the armour. Using the photogrammetry software ‘RealityCapture’, Matt composited together the hundreds of images into distinct 3D objects, that Mike describes as ‘uncanny’ in their similarity to the real thing. 

The raw scans still had areas where the photogrammetry algorithm created geometric and textural flaws that looked like rust or damage that weren't present on the physical objects. To bring these models even more closely in line with the actual armour, Matt brought on Chris Harris, a specialist in 3D surfacing and materials. To refine the models, Chris meticulously cross-referenced the photographs to distinguish actual imperfections in the century-old metal from any digital defects. The varied materials of the original objects were recreated virtually and applied to the model, meaning that the appearance of the digital object would react accurately to different lighting conditions. The result was a near-perfect recreation of all 44 kilograms of Ned’s armour.

Throughout the process, the team was adamant about remaining faithful to the original objects. Interestingly, previously captured LiDAR 8 scans proved helpful for the final photogrammetry result. While the LiDAR scans lacked detail in comparison to the photogrammetric models, they provided highly accurate data about the physical dimensions of each object. This information allowed the team to scale each 3D model to its exact physical size, resulting in world-class digital twins.

But what would become of models so incredibly detailed and information-laden that they would crash most computers? With the modelling complete, the team at Creative Studio were just getting started.

Beyond physical limitations

At the heart of this work is the drive to fundamentally transform how people can experience these historical artefacts. Mike highlights the enlightening nature of digitally experiencing these artefacts with an example: 'there is actually writing on the inside of the front plate, but because of the way the armour is presented as a sort of bodily form, you can’t actually see it.' This, he says, means that 'a 3D experience, in some ways, is actually better than a physical one - you can spin it around, and look at the back of this object you usually can’t see'. 

Cathy Bryceland 9, a project manager for SLV LAB, shares the sentiment, pointing out that the 3D model can even help reveal easy-to-miss details in the traditional display context. 'The rifle has engravings that you have to know about and look really closely to see'. According to Cathy, these details could be easily highlighted in the 3D recreation, and offer deeper inspection of these objects.

As Mike sums it up, 'there's potential to present collection items in a way that people can have an experience of these objects that, in some ways, is actually better and deeper than the actual objects themselves'.

Three transformative projects

This underlying sentiment has spawned three distinctive projects that will bring these digital assets to different audiences.

The first and largest is Mouthful of Dust, a web experience that Mike describes as 'interactive cinema'. It features web-optimised versions of the 3D scans alongside commissioned works from five Victorian writers, responding to the armour and the mythic figure who once wore it. The project invites viewers to either navigate the objects freely, or take a guided journey around and through each relic while being carried along by each writer's reflections. This experience is intended for people without easy access to the Library itself, and is something the team hopes will be viewed around the world.

The second project will take the form of an on-site touchscreen experience fueled by Unreal Engine, offering even higher quality viewing than is possible through a web browser. Situated near the physical display of the armour, it will focus on the objects themselves, and allow up-close exploration of the models alongside their physical counterparts. 

The third and perhaps most innovative project involves creating 3D prints of the artefacts through a co-design process with people who are blind or have low vision. This initiative hopes to offer a tactile experience for those who would otherwise have limited chance of engaging with the glass-protected armour. The project, in partnership with RMIT's Advanced Manufacturing Precinct, has already produced a 1:1 scale model of the helmet with exceptionally realistic surface finish, via a six-day printing process, with more to come.

With these developments, the project expands beyond technical achievement into its fundamental focus on granting access to important cultural artefacts. Mike highlights that here, access encompasses many meanings. First, he highlights access in terms of physical proximity - these digital models allow someone 'in the States, Europe, China, wherever, to actually see these things' without needing a pricey plane ticket. It's also about enabling full participation for people of all abilities; so in this case, actively collaborating with people who are blind. And perhaps most subtly, he aspires to open access 'in terms of being able to get closer and observe the details of these objects - to literally look around the other side'.

The impact of this enhanced availability was apparent when the team previewed some of their work at an SLV LAB launch event. As Cathy recalls: 'A lot of people were blown away.' Just seeing the digitised versions of Ned’s armour ignited excitement about this technology’s ability to bring cultural artefacts to life and attract new audiences to the Library.

From pixels to preservation

Not only are these high-resolution scans currently being showcased for the global public — they're also becoming permanent additions to the Library's collection, expanding the cultural preservation of these objects.

As Mike explains, 'all the original photographs from the photogrammetry process, the project files, and the master assets will be preserved. So in theory, someone could download these assets and create their own project with them'.

Such approaches represent a significant evolution in how cultural institutions approach their mission. The scans transform a collection item from a singular entry with limited accessibility into a rich data resource that can be studied, shared, and experienced through multiple platforms. Sharing collections is no longer just about showcasing the physical artefact - it's about capturing and distributing its digital essence.

Overall, this project serves as a case study for how creative use of digital technologies can amplify our experience of physical artefacts. The original armour remains irreplaceable in its historical significance and material authenticity, yet its digital counterpart reveals hidden details and welcomes in people across the globe. This balanced approach, respecting the physical while embracing the digital, offers a blueprint for cultural institutions worldwide. By digitally capturing these objects, the Library ensures that Ned Kelly's complex legacy will be accessible for ever-wider audiences now and for generations to come.