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< Back Shades of Otara to show at Studio One 14 Nov 2014 Studio One in Ponsonby has confirmed that Shades of Otara - a documentary series three years in the making - will be exhibited from 25 May next year. The monochromatic work is designed to draw on themes of identity and place, balancing quiet moments of contemplation next to entrepreneurialism. < Previous Next >

< Back The Mentawai in D-Photo Magazine 19 Jul 2017 In an exclusive interview with D-Photo magazine Guy Needham talks about the lengths he went to to get the shots for his upcoming exhibition, The Mentawai of Indonesia. The article reveals what it's really like as a photographer where a contrast in culture is the least of your worries. Read journalist Adrian Hatwell's article here . < Previous Next >

< Back Warriors with wi-fi 25 Feb 2018 The lead travel story in today's Sunday Star-Times is my experience of meeting the Waorani tribe in the Ecuadorian Amazon - and what I did not expect. From fishing for piranha to going hunting with blowguns, it was the transition the tribe is going through that made the trip so fascinating. Read the full article here. < Previous Next >

< Back Viva La Fiesta! 9 May 2018 The featured 'Postcard' in the latest Lonely Planet Traveller is a shot taken by Guy Needham at Colombia's Carnaval of The Blacks and Whites. The image captures a solo performer looking up amongst a sea of colour and noise, as if he was a Colombian version of Where's Wally. < Previous Next >

< Back A Different Aspect of Reality 16 Apr 2018 Two of the images from The Mentawai will be shown in Athens, Greece this month as part of an international group Portraits exhibition. Curated by Blank Wall Gallery, the show is designed to "express a different aspect of reality" and features a select number of images from around the world. It will be on display from April 20th though to May 3rd. < Previous Next >

< Back Lubango Local chosen for Athens 19 Aug 2025 An image of a just-emptied train carriage at a railway station on the outskirts of Lubango, Angola, has been selected for a global travel exhibition in Athens, Greece. The image of bright blue seats and piercing sunlight under an array of diminishing ventilation fans, is one of Guy Needham's two photographs that will be exhibited at Blank Wall Gallery in Athens from late September. Part of a travel series taken in Angola for The Post, the image captures the stripped back utilitariuanism of public transport. < Previous Next >

< Back Kamamutico meets Winter Solstice 22 Oct 2025 A portrait of Kamamutico of the Vatwa tribe of Angola will be on going on display in the US for the first time, as part of the Griffin Museum of Photography's Winter Solstice exhibition. The Vatwa are based around the municipality of Oncocua, a village in the remote south western province of Cunene and are one of the lesser-known tribes, who imitate the dress and language of another tribe: the Himba. T he portrait of Kamamutico looking out of his hut, will be on show in the Boston gallery from December 5. < Previous Next >

< Back Der Letzte Schliff geht nach Berlin 17 Apr 2019 Final Touches, from The Huli of Papua New Guinea series, is making an appearance at Berlin's Jarvis Dooney gallery throughout April. It is part of the gallery's innovative and interactive Postcard Salon, challenging both expectations of the exhibition space and giving audiences a new way to engage with art and discover new artists. < Previous Next >

< Back Presentation on the Huli 20 May 2014 On Tuesday 3rd June at 6pm Guy Needham, will be talking at the opening of his latest exhibition, The Huli of Papua New Guinea. Part of the Auckland Festival of Photography, Guy will be sharing his experiences with the Huli tribe - the last traditional tribe in the Southern Highlands of Papua New Guinea. < Previous Next >

< Back Colour Nature opens 14 Jul 2014 Guy Needham's next exhibition, Colour // Nature will be hosted by Auckland's Grand Rendezvous Hotel. Colour // Nature is a play on man's need to categorise, numerise and systemise what is naturally found on this planet. This is an exhibition of digitised beauty - scenic landscapes and close up flora are given references rather than titles. < Previous Next >

< Back There are always flowers 3 Apr 2020 "There are always flowers (for those who want to see them) - Henri Matisse" is a series designed to bring light to the dark days of Coronavirus. The images, each taken at the Botanical Gardens in Auckland New Zealand with only natural light, are a microcosm of hope and the future, of growth and life. They will be published online regularly 'in the Time of Coronavirus' . < Previous Next >

< Back Off-grid Ocean Journey 5 Feb 2015 “When the alarm goes you grab this,” Officer Cadet Dusan said as he pointed to my lifejacket. “And this.” An orange survival suit. “We muster on C Deck, starboard side.” I didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing that my welcome was bringing up Titanic-like thoughts. I had just boarded the ANL Bindaree, a Liberian-flagged freighter that was slowly pulling out into the Hauraki Gulf laden with 30,000 tones of freight, 24 crew and 1 other passenger. I was following a little-known tradition of passengers on cargo ships, harking back to the days when cabins were set aside for owners and VIPs. Today they’re taken by people looking for a slow alternative to air travel, who are independent, have time to spare, and who – like me – just want to do something a little different. I’d chosen a rather circuitous route as was pointed out by Adrian, the bemused Chief Engineer. “OK, so you’re leaving here to come back here to go nowhere?” “Uh huh,” I replied. From Auckland around Cape Reinga across the Tasman to Melbourne, up the Australian Coast to Sydney and then into the South Pacific to disembark at Tauranga. The journey would take two weeks. “You are very strange,” he chuckled. Adrian was one of the Bindaree’s band of officers from Croatia, Romania, and Montenegro; the crew were all Filipino. As is maritime tradition there was strict segregation between the officers and the crew including socialising, eating and sleeping. This irked my fellow passenger, Naomi, a Canadian environmental educator, who was telling me so when we were interrupted. “Attention all crew. Attention all crew,” boomed the PA system. “Clocks go back one hour tonight. One hour.” That marked us entering international waters and that meant the Slop Chest was open. The Slop Chest (official name: Bonded Store) was a duty free treasure trove of alcohol, treats and cigarettes. You pick what you want from the checklist, hand a slip to the officer, it gets delivered to your door, and you pay in $US before disembarking. I made the landlubber’s mistake of thinking I was paying US$18 for a dozen Becks beer. 24 bottles turned up. No matter, there was more than enough room in my quarters. Officially the “Owner’s cabin”, I had a dayroom (two couches, table, writing desk and chair, fridge, LG mini-system, DVD player and TV) as well as a bedroom plus shower and toilet. My porthole (ticket note: “View may be restricted by containers”) looked all the way to the bow. As the days went by the low rumble of the engines was occasionally punctuated by the creaking of container lashes. I spent as much time as possible on the Bridge. Being allowed in the Wheelhouse is one of the perks of being a passenger on a merchant ship, but it definitely wasn’t what I expected. Sure, I’d done my research – if watching Captain Phillips counts – but I hadn’t reckoned on was how automated it all was. There is no grand wheel any more; this one was the size of a PlayStation racing control. “Surprised huh?” Third Officer Paul called out with a grin on his face. “Everything is automatic now, see”. He pointed to the navigation console. “Of course, we still do things manually. Every two hours we plot our exact position on the charts behind you. Don’t want anything to go wrong,” he said understatedly, still smiling. As Officer on Watch he wasn’t actually steering the ship; he was checking it was on track. Just to humour me though he opened a small hatch on the bulkhead – out popped a Morse code machine. The following day I joined Chief Officer Aleksandar on the outer Bridge – him with cigarette and coffee in hand, me with sunglasses, both of us looking out to the horizon. “People don’t understand,” he said passionately. “We are the life blood of the world economy!” He jokingly jabbed his finger to his forearm. “No planes, no trains, ever carry as much as economically as us. This is why shipping will never die.” I nodded in agreement. We were heading west at a majestic 14 knots. He opened a small hatch on the bulkhead – out popped a Morse code machine. Seven decks below the powerhouse of the ship thundered on. In the engine room nine turbines pumped out 720RPM of raw power. “140°” said the engineer, “That’s how hot these pipes are. Don’t touch them.” I didn’t need to be told twice. As awesome as all that power was it was a relief to be topside again. My favourite place was at the bow with 250m of container ship behind me, the hypnotic sound of the swell and the gentle rocking of a massive ship. The mornings were fresh and tingly; the afternoon’s hot and tan-worthy. It wasn’t until Day 6 that we saw land again – Australia. The mood on the Bridge noticeably changed and focus replaced humour. It was as if the ship had been given a talking to at half time and came out with guns blazing. In Melbourne I saw first-hand the life-blood of the world economy. Every container was positioned on the deck according to its declared weight, need for power, displacement of cargo and final destination. Massive cranes, hoists and lights worked 24 hours to keep the infrastructure pumping. After ‘shore leave’ I was back up the gangway in time for dinner. Meals were at set times (7-8am, Noon-1pm, 5-6pm) and eating in the Officers’ Mess was a chance to get to know the men onboard. On freighters the meals are dependent on how good a cook you have and ours was good. Chef Leonardo and Messman Rodel invited me into the galley to proudly show off their honey-glazed chicken, Thai-inspired beef and ice-cream sundaes. Evenings were spent chilling. There was time to read, watch DVDs, work out in the gym or just stare out to sea. More than once I caught up with the ship’s Master, Danko Grgurevic, a typically friendly Croatian who was usually dressed in shorts, a company t-shirt and tennis shoes. We arrived in Botany Bay under a full moon. By then I’d learnt that you’re not supposed to take your passport off the vessel when entering another country (oops) and you have to sit at your allocated place at the dining table even when you’re the only person there (oops again). But despite all those idiosyncrasies there was one great benefit: being “off the grid”. No cellphone, no Facebook, no hashtags, no selfies. After another five days we arrived in Tauranga. I left the crew with a few magazines and beers, and descended the gangway one last time. It had been a privileged insight into a rarefied ecosystem, one with rules and norms that could be daunting to the uninitiated. Luckily, I had the best hosts I could have asked for. And I was rather pleased that I never had to put on that orange survival suit. < Previous Next >