Guy Needham and a number of photographers worldwide have joined together to raise funds for UNICEF Ukraine via Portugal's Incubator Gallery. < Back Photographers for Ukraine 9 Mar 2023 Guy Needham and a number of photographers worldwide have joined together to raise funds for UNICEF Ukraine via Portugal's Incubator Gallery. Sales from the images donated , like this one of a Hadzabe leader, will go towards life-saving support for children and their families who are suffering as a result of the Russian invasion. Images will be on show in Lisbon for all of March plus available online to purchase at < Previous Next >

A monochromatic portrait of Aman Ipai, one of the Mentawai of Indonesia, has been selected for the Vienna International Photo Awards. < Back Aman Ipai honoured in Vienna 11 Sept 2022 A monochromatic portrait of Aman Ipai, one of the Mentawai of Indonesia, has been selected for the Vienna International Photo Awards. The image, which captures his unique body art and trusting presence, has been awarded an Honorary Mention in the People & Portrait Photography category. Playing on contrast in a wider sense, it was taken in his uma (longhouse) using only natural light to frame his generous pose. < Previous Next >

Lokop Mabel, one of the elders of the Dani tribe in Papua's Anemoigi village, features in NZ Camera 2023. < Back NZ Camera 2023 10 Nov 2023 Lokop Mabel, one of the elders of the Dani tribe in Papua's Anemoigi village, features in NZ Camera 2023. The intimate, relaxed portrait of him has been selected for New Zealand Camera 2023 - a collection of outstanding photographic images from all genres . The hard cover, full colour coffee table book is the Photographic Society of New Zealand's flagship publication and you can purchase a copy here . < Previous Next >

In one swift motion the taxi driver heaved my suitcase into the boot. “Do not worry, I am strong!” she laughed, flexing her biceps. Sabrina was my unofficial welcomer to Isola di Procida, a 4km2 speck of land in the Gulf of Naples. < Back Salve Procida Herald on Sunday 2 Aug 2026 In one swift motion the taxi driver heaved my suitcase into the boot. “Do not worry, I am strong!” she laughed, flexing her biceps. Sabrina was my unofficial welcomer to Isola di Procida, a 4km2 speck of land in the Gulf of Naples. The only female tassista on the island, she had taken over the taxi business from her father. “Uh-uh,” she warned jokingly when I reached for my seatbelt, “We are friendly drivers here – no need for that”. Often overshadowed by its flashier neighbours of Capri and Ischia, Procida (pron. PRO-chee-dah) is where Italians come to relax. “You come for holiday? It is very quiet here, no boom-boom-boom like Ischia. You like the quiet, no?” A traditional fishing village since the 17th century Procida is so beautiful that images of it adorn Naples Airport. Named Italy’s Capital of Culture in 2022, the island dotted with beaches and bays has two main towns: Marina Grande, where the ferries arrive from Naples, and the stunning fishing village Marina Corricella, where I was staying. “Salve!” beamed Vincenzo, the welcoming host of Callia Rooms B&B. A Procida local who has travelled extensively, Vincenzo enthusiastically explained what was nearby, where to eat, and what to see. Waiting in my room was a complimentary bottle of prosecco and much appreciated water. A few hours later and keen to explore the island I Whatsapped my new best friend, Sabrina. “Andiamo!” (let’s go) she beckoned, waving me over as she stubbed out a cigarette. Winding through the narrow streets – side mirrors folded in – we started at the highest point on the island, the fortified Terra Murata. The view from the top was jaw dropping; a picture-perfect postcard of Marina Corricella’s kaleidoscope of colour, looking out to the boat-filled bay framed by the Mediterranean Sea. Sabrina nodded with pride, explaining that the pastel-coloured houses were originally painted that way so fishermen could recognise their homes when returning from sea. Passing where the daily fish markets are held at Marina Grande, we drove east to Spiaggia di Pozzo Vecchio, nicknamed Postman’s Beach after the 1994 film Il Postino . Small and pebbled, it is less popular than the nearby black sanded Ciracciello Beach with its choreographed sun umbrellas and overhanging cocktail bars. At the southern end of Ciracciello lies the nature reserve of Isola di Vivara, an island connected by a causeway but with restricted access due to its protected status. Travelling across the island, gated villas and hidden groves began to appear, before the stone roads descended to compact houses once again. “Ciao, ciao!” called out Sabrina to two women chatting across balconies, their washing lightly flapping in the wind. Most Procidani , especially those born here, know each other and there is a palpable sense of community. “When we go to Naples, we are easy to pick out because we have a different dialect.” Following closely behind a couple of Vespas we made our way back to Marina Corricella, where Sabrina dropped me off with a cheery “A rrivederci!” . I made my way down one of the four steep stairways to a restaurant Vincenzo had recommended, Il Pescatore. Before arriving in Italy my food research consisted of watching one episode of Stanley Tucci’s Tucci in Italy , when he visited Procida for its… lemons. Unlike the mouth-puckering citrus we know, limone pane are grander, more bulbous, with the tart flavour replaced by a subtle sweetness. The waiter brought out insalata di limoni procidana (lemon salad) before masterly tossing the chilli flakes into the limon, as if it were a scene from The Talented Mr Ripley. Of course, I had to finish the evening in that most Italian way, pistachio gelato from the waterfront’s Chiaro di Luna . The next morning it was time to see the island from a different perspective. “New Zealand! I was in Auckland three times when I was second engineer for P&O,” announced our boat captain, Christian. With two other passengers on board, we circumnavigated the island over a couple of hours as Christian pointed out the caves, cliff formations and ruins that were only visible from the water. Back on land the sun was punishing. It probably wasn’t the best hour to walk up to Procida’s landmark abbey, Abbazia di San Michele Arcangelo. I was nearly tempted to have a break - “Free limoncello shot if you dance your way to the truck” the sign said. Originally built as a Benedictine Monastery, the 1000-year-old building was deserted by monks in the 15 th century due to constant pirate attacks. Later dedicated to Saint Michael the Archangel, over the centuries it has had ecclesiastical works of art, an intricate wooden box and gold ceiling, and numerous frescoes added to it. By pure coincidence the abbey was playing an even bigger role this evening - the starting point for Catholic Processione del Corpus Domini through the streets of Procida. Luckily for me the procession was to pass by Vincenzo’s Callia Rooms. School children led the way, holding up a banner for world peace, followed by clergy in yellow, red and aqua blue vestments, before the Archbishop of Benevento (who was once a pastor on Procida) came into view, walking under a four-poster canopy. Local dignitaries were next, but it was the Procida musical band, playing amongst the hundreds of faithful that received the loudest applause. As the procession stopped at various waypoints, remarks were celebrated with fireworks, colourful flashes in the night sky, sparks fading back to earth. And then there were the explosions, one after another after another wowing the procession. It turns out the Sabrina was only partly right - Procida does have some boom-boom-boom after all. Tips & tricks Procida is a 40minute SNAV hydrofoil boat trip from Naples The island, while compact, has many steep steps so be prepared and wear good shoes Sundays are still traditional, shops are closed and locals treat it as a day of rest If hiring a scooter or motorbike to travel the island, make sure your insurance covers it Plan ahead: https://www.visitprocida.com/en/ Originally published in Herald on Sunday < Previous Next >

On the back of its first showing in Athens, Six Tribes opens in Barcelona tomorrow night in the historic Raval area. < Back Six Tribes opens in Barcelona 19 Sept 2019 On the back of its first showing in Athens, Six Tribes opens in Barcelona tomorrow night in the historic Raval area. The exhibition is on show for a week at L'Atelier De Pilar Güell and features tribes from Papua New Guinea to Ecuador to Kenya, with 20 images and accompanying stories in catalan, Spanish and English. < Previous Next >

A portrait of Kanamutico of the Vatwa tribe will be on display in the US for the first time, as part of the Griffin Museum of Photography's Winter Solstice exhibition. < Back Kanamutico meets Boston 29 Oct 2025 A portrait of Kanamutico of the Vatwa tribe will be on display in the US for the first time, as part of the Griffin Museum of Photography's Winter Solstice exhibition. T he portrait of Kanamutico looking out of his hut will be on show in the Boston gallery from December 5. One of the Vatwa tribe located in the Angolan municipality of Oncocua, he follows in the footsteps of the older men in the village who spend their days tending to crops and goats in the nearby fields of this semi-nomadic tribe. < Previous Next >

PROJECTS Colour Nature Manurewa, New Zealand During the dark days of the Coronavirus pandemic this series echoed Henri Matisse, "There are always flowers for those who want to see them". The images, each taken at the Auckland Botanic Gardens with only natural light, are a microcosm of hope and the future, of growth and life. The collection is a digitisation of beauty, not beauty itself, highlighting the power of a singular image at its most pared back simplicity. Previous Next

In the semi-arid East African wilderness just above the Equator live a tribe of nomadic pastoralists called the Samburu. A proud, welcoming people, the Samburu migrated from Sudan in the 16th century, settling north of Mount Kenya in the Rift Valley. TRIBES The Samburu Samburu County, Kenya In the semi-arid East African wilderness just above the Equator live a tribe of nomadic pastoralists called the Samburu. A proud, welcoming people, the Samburu migrated from Sudan in the 16th century, settling north of Mount Kenya in the Rift Valley. < Previous Next >

One of the most defining images of the Shades of Otara series is spotlit in this month's Royal Photographic Society's Journal. < Back Otara in the Royal Photographic Society Journal 9 Mar 2018 One of the most defining images of the Shades of Otara series is spotlit in this month's Royal Photographic Society's Journal. The image of a young man resting on a pile of crates he has just unloaded. There is something balanced about his physical exhaustion and the girl in the background, licking an ice-cream as if it was her reward for his hard work. < Previous Next >

“Why Albania?” “Why not?” “What have they done to us?” “What have they done for us?” “Nothing….” “See, they keep to themselves. Shifty. Untrustable.” < Back Why Albania 4 Jun 2015 “Why Albania?” “Why not?” “What have they done to us?” “What have they done for us?” “Nothing….” “See, they keep to themselves. Shifty. Untrustable.” No, not a weird conversation about where to holiday but a scene from Wag The Dog, where Robert De Niro and Dustin Hoffman are deciding who America should go to war with. Thankfully it never happened, but if it had you can bet Albania would have been ready. Dotted along its coastline are thousands of concrete bunkers to protect it from invasion - the paranoid legacy of communist dictator Enver Hoxha. It had been 20 years since communism had died and I was in Albania to see how much the country had changed. To the outside world Albania is still a mystery; a former Socialist People’s Republic “somewhere near Greece where everyone is poor and backward and ride donkeys and the women have moustaches” (they don’t). Sure, it’s not the most advanced country in the world but that’s what makes it so unique. Where else would you see grass being cut on the main square with a scythe? Or a foreign street named after George W Bush? My quest to discover today’s Albania began in its capital, Tirana. In the 1990s the former mayor - himself an artist - came up with the idea of painting the ubiquitous apartment blocks different colours, to brighten up residents’ lives. As a result the city’s a lot more attractive these days, but it’s never going to win a beauty pageant. No matter, what Tirana lacks in looks it makes up for in character. From the never-ending cacophony of horns as three-wheeled trucks fight with motorbikes navigating Skanderbeg Square, to elderly men warily drinking tea to pass the time of day, the capital of Albania is truly a mish-mash of east meets west with a victor yet to be decided. As the capital, all roads lead to Tirana and you certainly know when you’re on them. “Pot-holed” is an understatement but bouncing up and down in the back of a furgon taxi adds to the sense of adventure. In typical Balkan fashion these shared taxis have no set schedule (nor departure point for that matter); as soon as they’re full, they’re off. I managed to catch an early morning one and only had to wait 15 minutes before the chugging Mercedes starting making its way to my next destination, Berat. After two hours of Albanian viba-train I was relieved to finally arrive. “Somewhere near Greece where everyone is poor and backward and ride donkeys and the women have moustaches” Berat is a charming 2400 year old Ottoman town with houses built one on top of another, earning itself the moniker ‘Town of a Thousand Windows’. I was excitedly met by my host and taken to his ‘welcome room’ for a shot of rakija (a fermented alcoholic drink that’s probably illegal elsewhere). The room itself was magic: traditional curved brick walls, pigeons cooing on the sill, strings of onions hanging from rafters, and the waft of slowly cooking lamb. Another rakija was poured. “Are you going to the Xhiro tonight?” he asked. “It’s Monday so it should be good.” He pointed down to the town. The Xhiro (pronounced ‘giro’), as it turns out, is one of the most curious rituals I have come across. At a time when we might be watching primetime TV the inhabitants of Berat are walking back and forth down a closed off boulevard, dressed to the nines like its 1987. Furtive glances are exchanged as Europop seeps from the cafes. This is dating, Albania-style. In a country where pre-marriage relations are frowned upon and the Western version of ‘going out’ is non-existent, the nightly Xhiro is the one opportunity to size up potential partners. Like someone? Your relatives can talk to their relatives. We joined in – the walking, not the dating – and amongst the fried sweetcorn hawkers and popped collars you could sense the locals enjoying themselves. Berat was also where I saw another sign that times have changed. Mount Shpirag, behind the entrance to the township, once had the name “Enver” (after the former dictator) spelt out in huge letters on the mountainside. Today they’ve been rearranged to spell “N.E.V.E.R” – a very large, defiant statement not to repeat the past. Of course not all of the past was bad. My guide, a Tirana native who had spent much of his life in construction openly opined, “Under communism, we always had a job. No matter how small. Now look around you.” He waved his arm across the square. Men of working age were sitting around doing not much. It was 2:30pm on a weekday. He did admit though that since ‘freedom’ he now had enough money to send his daughter to Germany to study which he would never have been able to do “in the old days”. The final stop on my journey was Shkodra, a town bordering Montenegro. With a castle above and lake below it prides itself as being a little more Balkan-esque than the rest of Albania. Certainly, it has its fair share of al fresco restaurants, tourist-oriented ‘lodges’ and fresh food stalls; Shkodra was a cosmopolitan surprise. One of my favourite moments happened just as I was leaving town and looking to spend the last of my LEK on some meaningful souvenirs. An old woman at the bus stop dangled some woollen socks in my face in the hope that this foreigner would buy them - despite me sweltering in the 35 degree heat. I followed her back to her knitting, and after much hand gesticulation I gave her cash, she gave me some socks, and topped it off with an Albanian ‘smile’. As the bus pulled out I gave her a wee nod, and thought about all the changes she’d seen. After 20 years, capitalism had replaced communism and pester-power had replaced paranoia. The Albania of old was no longer there and yet, as the country was finding itself – with infrastructure and systems still to come – I felt lucky to have seen the Albania of today, knowing that it’s special quality would change again 20 years from now. < Previous Next >

A photo taken at sunrise at New Zealand's Lake Tekapo has been selected for the upcoming The Golden Hour exhibition at the Auburn Art Gallery in Los Angeles. < Back Lake Tekapo X Los Angeles 4 Jul 2020 A photo taken at sunrise at New Zealand's Lake Tekapo has been selected for the upcoming The Golden Hour exhibition at the Auburn Art Gallery in Los Angeles. The photo, known as Di's End, is one Guy Needham's landscape collection that includes lakes of Croatia, vineyards of Napa, mountains of Patagonia and seascapes of Tuvalu. < Previous Next >

Numbering no more than 3,000, the Waorani live on the edge of the Amazon basin. Like many indigenous peoples they are a tribe in transition - hunting with blowguns and poisonous darts is giving way to nightly wi-fi and televised football. TRIBES The Waorani Territorio Waorani, Ecuador Numbering no more than 3,000, the Waorani live on the edge of the Amazon basin. Like many indigenous peoples they are a tribe in transition - hunting with blowguns and poisonous darts is giving way to nightly wi-fi and televised football. < Previous Next >