Guy Needham was recently interviewed by D:Photo Magazine. < Back Splendid Isolation in D-Photo magazine 27 May 2014 Guy Needham was recently interviewed by D:Photo Magazine. Freelance photographer Guy Needham travels to the little seen parts of the globe to document unique cultures, and for this year’s Auckland Festival of Photography he turns his lens of Papua New Guinea’s indigenous Huli. < Previous Next >

Guy Needham's The Hadzabe of Tanzania has been selected for the Core programme of this year's Auckland Festival of Photography. < Back Auckland Festival of Photography 23 Feb 2019 Guy Needham's The Hadzabe of Tanzania has been selected for the Core programme of this year's Auckland Festival of Photography. The festival takes place within Auckland's major galleries, project spaces, non-gallery venues and public sites, featuring a mix of emerging and established artists. The Hadzabe of Tanzania will be on show at The Grey Place from 28 May - 8 June. < Previous Next >

“Is this the square?” “Si.” The couple sitting next to me were taking in Piazza San Giovanni, picturing James Bond in his DB5, machine guns blazing as his steely blue resolve and bullet-proof glass got him out of another sticky situation... < Back From Shame to Bond New Zealand Herald 17 Sept 2026 “Is this the square?” “Si.” The couple sitting next to me were taking in Piazza San Giovanni, picturing James Bond in his DB5, machine guns blazing as his steely blue resolve and bullet-proof glass got him out of another sticky situation... Being a location for the most recent Bond movie has brought a new fandom to Matera, but long before then this southern Italian town had a very different and somewhat embarrassing past. Considered the oldest inhabited settlement in Europe, Matera’s history dates back to cave dwellers 7,500 years ago. After being constantly attacked, the troglodytes shifted across the valley to take up defensive positions on the stassi (stone mountains). It is here where they carved their homes into rock, dotting caves along the cliff faces. Their descendants lived the same way for thousands of years until la vergogna nazionale d'Italia. “We were called the shame of Italy,” rued my guide, Renato Favilli. He explained that in 1952 the Prime Minister of Italy visited Matera and was shocked by what he saw – extreme poverty, widespread disease, no electricity, human waste in the streets, and animals living with people in caves. Passing a law that forcibly evacuated the 17,000 residents to the adjacent ‘new town’, the stassi were left abandoned and decaying. Things began to change in 1993 when Matera was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site, and tourists started coming to this ancient town in the arch of Italy’s boot. “When we were named European Capital of Culture in 2019,” Renato continued, “we became even more popular!” That popularity was now heading our way, as multiple tour groups jostled for shade from the 30degree heat on the narrow cobblestone streets. Unlike the day-trippers from nearby Bari, I had made Matera casa mia for the next few nights. “ Ciao! ” bounced the effervescent Domenica, manager of Il Casale di Maria, a boutique hotel cut into the limestone of Stasso Barisano. Before she even showed me my room, she was scribbling on a tear-off map pad. “Your Google maps will not work well here. Too many streets close together’. She circled restaurants. Underlined churches. Arrowed piazzas. “ Prego! ” First up was what Matera is known for, its chiese rupestri or rock churches. Santa Maria de Idris is the most prominent, carved into a rocky outcrop overlooking the gravina far below. I put €4.50 into the ticket machine, took two steps to the right and before me was a faded fresco of Christ Pantocrator painted 900 years ago. The fact that these delicate works even exist today is astounding. Not content with one rock church I made my way to Convento di Sant'Agostino, built by Augustine monks in 1592. Domenica had underlined a church that lay hidden beneath the convent – but I needed to seek permission to see it. Poking my sweaty head into the sacrestia , I surprised a priest who kindly directed me to the left of the altar. Unlocking an unassuming door, he waved me through a carved-out tunnel, and I stepped into the small subterranean 15th-century crypt of San Guglielmo da Vercelli. Sitting in a niche was a fresco of the Holy Trinity; beside it was Madonna col Bambino (Madonna with Child), dating to 1603. Back outside my squinting eyes slowly adjusted to the low Basilicata sun, only to gaze upon what is arguably the best view in Matera. If I had prompted ChatGPT to create an ancient mountain town, with cliff-hugging roads, stone alleyways, twinkling lights at dusk, jigsaw-like houses, and topped with a cathedral, it would have created the view from Belvedere Emilio Colombo. As the moon slowly rose, I found myself on Vico Santa Cesarea in front of one of Domenica’s circled restaurants. Carved into rock with a patio out front, Ristorante Baccus offers more traditional fare than its counterparts in Stassi Caveoso. Conjuring up my best Italian I ordered Polpo alla griglia con crema di patate al profumo di rosmarino. The octopus was stunning. After mopping up the sauce with the unique and strangely shaped Pane di Matera bread, I looked longingly at the dessert menu… but settled on an espresso. The next morning I didn’t have to go far to find a local artisan at work. Concentrating hard outside his workshop-cum-shop, Pasquale was chipping away at a small block of limestone tuff. Everything inside he had carved himself and he told me he preferred to sell it directly. After browsing the uneven shelves, I purchased a small carved figurine of two cats together (who seemed to get on better than mine do). Cats are a common sight in Matera. Throughout the streets are signs announcing, ‘Here lives a Protected Feral Cat Colony’ and it is forbidden to mistreat them . For the most part the felines were just lying on the road in the sun, oblivious to any passers-by. The streets of Matera also host a surprising number of artworks, including Salvador Dali’s original bronze “Dalinian Dancer” sculpture – its blue hues matching the Materan sky – and the more contemporary The Drop, which I spent far too much time questioning if it really belonged in Matera. There was one more arrow on Domenica’s map to visit: Palombaro Lungo (long deep well). A man-made cavity dating back to the 1500s, it was one of five cisterns that was used to collect rainwater for the town. I crossed the boardwalks suspended over the colourfully lit water, in awe at a cave that had once held 5million litres of water. Making my way back to the hotel I ticked off the items on Domenica’s map, taking care not to obstruct the wheezing three-wheeled Piaggios full of tourists opting for wheels over heels. Much as they were handy for navigating the stassi, something tells me they wouldn’t have been 007’s first choice of vehicle for the ancient streets of Matera. Tips & tricks Wear comfortable shoes. You’ll be doing a lot of walking on uneven, and slippery at times, cobblestones Get a printed map to supplement your phone map – it simply won’t work at times Carry water with you, even though it is freely available Plan ahead: https://www.materawelcome.it/en/ Original publication: New Zealand Herald < Previous Next >

When you're in Morocco colour is inescapable. The contrasts, hues and shades that make up this North African country are evident from the moment you land. Travelling through the country is an unbelievably vivid experience, an intoxicating blend of colours, photo opportunities mixed with spicy smells and the strange sounds of a foreign land. < Back Morocco in Focus New Zealand Herald 14 Apr 2009 When you're in Morocco colour is inescapable. The contrasts, hues and shades that make up this North African country are evident from the moment you land. Travelling through the country is an unbelievably vivid experience, an intoxicating blend of colours, photo opportunities mixed with spicy smells and the strange sounds of a foreign land. No photograph can ever capture the chorus of mosques in evening prayer. And even when the camera does freeze some spectacular scene it risks looking unreal. At the edge of the Sahara, the sight of the mighty Erg Chebbi dunes looming over an ancient desert fort, reflected in the mirror of a tranquil oasis, seems too perfect to be true. Similarly, like an elusive mirage on a sea of yellow, the Auberge Yasmina looks impossibly beautiful. Round every corner the images continue. One day I am standing in the stark whiteness of Midelt, feeding nuts to snow-covered Barbary Apes. The next, my eye is caught by a red jellaba framed against the intricate Moorish architecture of Fez. Like an elusive mirage on a sea of yellow, the Auberge Yasmina looked impossibly beautiful. Then there are Essaouira's blue-hued fishing boats, rainbow-coloured rows of shoes, multi-hued piles of spices, pink babouches and palm-fringed Kasbahs all demanding attention. But, above all, it is the people who leave an indelible image. From the curious Berber boy with pre-aged hands to the wary guardian of the medersa, every "Salam a Lakum" opens the door to another room in culture that is best described as proud. Each Moroccan I met knew that they lived in a beautiful part of the world... and who could disagree. Details See visitmorocco.org. Original publication: New Zealand Herald < Previous Next >

Today's Sunday Star-Times features my latest travel article, this one on Asia's youngest country. From fish on a stick to preparing to the Pope, read about what makes this country between Indonesia and Australia so special. < Back More in Timor-Leste 4 Aug 2024 Today's Sunday Star-Times features my latest travel article, this one on Asia's youngest country. From fish on a stick to preparing to the Pope, read about what makes this country between Indonesia and Australia so special. While the suffering of the past is never far from the country’s collective memory, these days Timor-Leste is on friendly terms with its neighbours, is eager to prosper, and keen to show the world what it has to offer. You can read the article here or pick up a copy today. < Previous Next >

Two of Guy Needham's images from his Mentawai tribal series will be part of the inaugural Chania International Photography festival in Crete. < Back Chania International Photography Festival 25 Jun 2018 Two of Guy Needham's images from his Mentawai tribal series will be part of the inaugural Chania International Photography festival in Crete. The two images, Aman Teutagougou and Iman Ipai, were taken in 2017 in the rainforests of Indonesia. They'll be on show from 28 August to 5th September at the Grand Arsenali in the old town of Chania. < Previous Next >

Goroka Boy, an image taken in the central Highlands of Papua New Guinea, has been selected for Praxis Gallery's international juried Portraits exhibition. < Back Goroka Boy goes to the United States 14 Apr 2020 Goroka Boy, an image taken in the central Highlands of Papua New Guinea, has been selected for Praxis Gallery's international juried Portraits exhibition. The exhibition "celebrates the aesthetic and conceptual considerations involved in the creation of the portrait: revealing personal narratives or new anthologies through the artistic representation of the subject" and will run from 22 May - 15 June in Minneapolis. < Previous Next >

In today's New Zealand Herald travel section, Guy Needham heads to Matera — Europe's oldest inhabited settlement, once branded "the shame of Italy" for the poverty that festered in its cave dwellings, now drawing crowds for a very different reason: a recent turn as a James Bond filming location. < Back From Shame to Bond 15 Sept 2026 In today's New Zealand Herald travel section, Guy Needham heads to Matera — Europe's oldest inhabited settlement, once branded "the shame of Italy" for the poverty that festered in its cave dwellings, now drawing crowds for a very different reason: a recent turn as a James Bond filming location. From a hotel manager who personalises a tear-off map because Google Maps can't cope with the maze of streets, to a 500-year-old cistern that once held 5 million litres of water, there's a lot more to Matera than 007's car chase. You can read it online here < Previous Next >

“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. < 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 >

TRAVEL Timor-Leste Dili, Timor-Leste The history of Timor-Leste (pron. less-tay) is a long and bloody one. After 400 years as a Portuguese colony, a coup in Lisbon encouraged the East Timorese to declare independence in 1975. While the suffering of the past is never far from the country’s collective memory, these days Timor-Leste is on friendly terms with its neighbours, is eager to prosper, and keen to show the world what it has to offer. Previous Next

The Vatwa will be popping up in Rome at the Galleria Arte Roma Design in early January 2026. < Back Ciao Vatwa 15 Oct 2025 The Vatwa will be popping up in Rome at the Galleria Arte Roma Design in early January 2026. The Galleria Arte Roma Design will play host to a select number of Vatwa portaits as part of a pop-up exhibition in early January 2026. Coordinated by Blank Wall Gallery, the exhibition will feature both print and digital artworks from a range of international artists for a limited time, on show in Rome's central Piramide district. < Previous Next >

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