Lecture Tour and Workshops for the Photographic Society of New Zealand

17th May 2025

Earlier this year I travelled to New Zealand to lecture and run workshops for the Photographic Society of New Zealand at their annual convention in Nelson, on the northern tip of the South Island. I’ve always had a great fondness for the country and have been lucky enough to visit several times, but I hadn’t been back to the South Island for about 35 years. Going all that way for a four-day conference seemed a tad extreme, so I arrived ten days early to give myself time to roam, take some photographs and call in on old friends I hadn’t seen for decades.

Getting There and Getting Lost

Travelling alone is both liberating and faintly daunting. You’re free to go wherever you want, do whatever you want — and at the same time feel a self-imposed pressure to come back with decent images. I tend to spend more time fretting about the pictures I’m not finding than I do looking properly at what’s right in front of me. I never suffer from FOMO socially, but with photography it lurks constantly — an idiotic state of mind, but a persistent one

A damp highland cow by the roadside on a damp day in NZ

Fundamentally little seems to have changed in New Zealand. The main west road south is now tarmac (a definite improvement), but the feel of the place remains blissfully the same — a relatively untouched wilderness where protection of endemic species still matters, and even tourism’s footprint feels lighter and better managed. The weather wasn’t ideal for photography, but I loved meandering south down the coast.

Wanaka in Autumn

I stopped briefly at Lake Matheson, more for nostalgia than anything else — I’d visited with a girlfriend back in the late ’80s — expecting crowds but finding the opposite. The reflections of Mount Cook were as perfect as ever, though I was more taken by the tiny blue mushrooms hiding in the forest. They reminded me of a childhood book about fairies — something with a character called Pookie, if memory serves.

Werewere Kōkako or blue pinkgill mushroom in New Zealand

By the time I reached Wanaka, my turning point back north, the skies had cleared and autumn had fully exploded — blazing trees, clear light, and a hint of New England about it. I went to see the tree (you have to really), and it was as comical as expected: tourists in droves, most photographing themselves, a few bristling with lenses trying to make the same tired picture everyone makes. Naturally, I took one too. But the real entertainment was people-watching.

That tree AGAIN!

I’d been staying in youth hostels (the irony isn’t lost on me) because they have a much better vibe than hotels, which I find rather boring and sanitised, and eating less than average food, so I treated myself to what turned out to be the best steak I think I’ve ever had. If you’re ever in Wanaka, then I highly recommend the Tititea Steak House, which is considerably better than it sounds.

Turning 62 Under the Stars

I woke the next morning on my 62nd birthday, though the number still feels like it belongs to someone else. I’ve travelled to more than sixty countries with a camera, and my head is full of film-strip memories of them all — and in each I feel the same age. Much as I value the perspective that comes with being in my sixties, I wouldn’t mind occasionally feeling twenty again. Maybe AGI will sort that out one day.

The shores of Lake Pukaki in New Zealand

The great thing about social media is it’s perfect for crowd control. All you need is for there to be an iconic image of a place on-line, and like bees to a honey pot tourist will swarm to try to re-create the image. This church was ringed with crowds, but all I had to do was walk off into the dark landscape, and within minutes be entirely on my own lying in silence in the prickly grass staring up at the vast star-studded sky. Nothing quite beats staring into the depths of space contemplating the complete and utter insignificance of yourself.

The night sky at Pukaki

Sadly the observatory was closed, so I couldn’t get a closer peek at the cosmos, but personally I find that lying back and looking at the whole panoply spread out before you it a giddier experience than zooming in to check out Saturn’s rings.

Pukaki Observatory, closed for business.

Time to head back up to Nelson and the conference, via a quick stop via a bored seal to visit friends I hadn’t seen for twenty years. My final drive up the east coast was very flat and grey, but what a coastline! One to return to one day to shoot in better weather.

Bored seal

Lectures, Workshops and 250 Photographers

Back in Nelson for the Photographic Society of New Zealand convention, I delivered two lectures — one on A Show of Hands and another titled Looking for Less, which nods to my fondness for minimalism and the way I try to approach photography. Between talks I ran a couple of workshops focused on looking rather than just seeing.

I’m not a great fan of standing at the front talking at people — I prefer getting everyone shooting, wandering between them, chatting through their niggles with cameras, spotting bad habits, and nudging them toward what they do best. The sessions were lively and full of laughter — and there’s nothing I enjoy more than getting 250 photographers laughing together.

Photographers are an odd tribe. It’s such a solitary passion, wildly subjective, and yet when you steer conversation away from camera gear (always a challenge) you find a room full of people quietly obsessed with seeing.

One of many gas tanks!

In the afternoons I roamed Nelson’s port with my camera, photographing industrial ladders and gas tanks — not glamorous, but oddly satisfying — before heading home via Auckland and a catch-up lunch with an old friend.

A Journey Worth Repeating

My time with the Photographic Society of New Zealand reminded me why I love sharing this craft — not just for the photographs, but for the people who see the world differently. I’ll be back, hopefully with better weather and fewer mushrooms to distract me.

Cactus snapped during workshop wander.