Catching light "begins with a digital capture and the image forms in my heart".
An acclaimed photographer writes about finding his whakapapa in the Hokianga and where the journey has taken him artistically and spiritually. Words and images by Fujifilm X-Photographer Tony Bridge.
I was born in Ranfurly, Central Otago. My mother is Pākehā, from Invercargill. My father however, was born in the Hokianga, as were his parents. So, one from the Deep South, and one from the Far North.
I have come to realise that all landscape photography is a record of a conversation between the photographer and the land. So, every day when I am out photographing the land, I am facing myself.
I grew up believing I was Pākehā, and it was only when I was 18 that Dad happened to mention over the dinner table that we were Māori. When I questioned him, he quickly dropped the subject and would say no more.
My mum was a writer and my dad was keen on photography so they both gifted me taonga. It has taken a long time to realise my artistic path is to somehow weave these two things together.
I have done a number of books in the last few years. My book Ara Wairua, an evocation of my response to Hokianga, is the sum of those two strands of my creative heritage.
I was always interested in photography, but it was when I was 30 that the light really went on. I realised this is what I wanted to do and, as there was no one to teach me, I taught myself. At the time I was a secondary teacher in Christchurch, where I have spent most of my adult life.
I began teaching photography, and this helped me to grow as a photographer.
It was in 2006, when my first marriage broke up, that I had the opportunity to either stay in a safe career, or to take a wild risk and see if I could make it as a professional photographer. So, I left that world for a new one.
Needing to eat certainly focuses the mind, and I needed that time alone to move my work to a new level. However, while the mentors who appeared taught me much, and part-time work as a wedding photographer (I shot about 1000 of them!) sharpened my skills, I realised my journey lay in a conversation with the land.
Probably the most seminal photograph for me is Ansel Adams' Winter Storm Clearing, Yosemite — a deceptively simple work and yet one that weaves a congruent whole of complex material.
I can a happily shoot wedding, documentary, studio portraiture, commercial and street (somehow, I have become known for the latter, although I don't do it as much these days). However, the land is where my focus and best expression lies. I have come to realise that all "landscape" photography is really a record of a conversation between the photographer and the land. So, every day when I am out photographing the land, I am facing myself.
In 2014, the time had come to go to the Hokianga. to follow the wairua.
My matakite Māori friends were all telling me to do so.
"Go home, Tony," they said. "Then you will know who you are."
So, I packed up, put my stuff in storage, and headed off to Hokianga, not knowing anybody or even where I would live.
There I found my whakapapa. I found that I am Te Rarawa, that my hapu is Whanopani, and my whānau is Paiha. I am a Boyce from Rangi Point, descended from the chief, Paepae. I learned the name of my original ancestor, Tiirairaka (local dialect for fantail), who arrived with Kupe on Matawahorua. Ko Matawhorua te waka.
Deep connection
And much more, I found a deep connection to Hokianga. Then my art changed radically.
It took a little time, but I realised that not only was I following my genetic whakapapa line, but also an artistic one, namely following in the footsteps of all the artists who have been to Hokianga before me.
My work has been described as Turner-esque, and I am comfortable with that. Thus, the work I make in Hokianga marks the intersection of these two strands. Hokianga is the wellspring, home to Te Puna I Te Ao Marama, the Spring of The Age of Light — its source is located on the harbour's north side.
Perhaps that is why people are drawn to Hokianga, the Place of Returning, for at a deep level they sense they are coming back to the source, a place of renewal.
In a way that overlays Matariki, which is about endings and beginnings.
[Side note: Matariki is what the eastern tribes celebrate. Western tribes (Ngāpuhi, Taranaki, Ngati Rangi) celebrate Puanga, which is a different star appearing at a different time. Some also celebrate Takarua (Sirius). Just saying.]
After being in Hokianga, a number of my friends commented that I was Māori, for being Māori is not determined by the colour of your skin; it's a state of the heart. Having whanaunga around me really helped for everyone in Hokianga is connected to everyone else. The question is how.
As for my work, it begins with a digital capture and the image forms in my heart. Then I use a lot of post-processing to clear away the outer layers and reveal the core truth.
Over time I have developed a range of custom techniques to enable this to happen. The tools are the same ones others can use, but it is in the order and manner of their use that the secret lies. Always the work is talking to and directing me to bring it out as it intends to become.
My process is simple to me, but somehow complex to others. Not sure why.
Hokianga light has a quality of compassion, a softness that somehow envelopes and yet informs.
There is another aspect to my hikoi which weaves into who I am and what I do. For the last 28 years I have been in training (on and off) with a tohunga from Ngāi Tuhoe. [The end result of that journey can be seen on my website, www.ketemarama.com.]
And my best kind of working day? Any day that I'm doing what I love is the best kind of working day. Whether I'm strapped into a helicopter, leaning perilously out the door to snap the beautiful Ngāi Tahu tribal area (with Richie McCaw at the helm I might add!) or photographing people on the streets and capturing the essence of a place with my camera.
And any day that ends with a glass of merlot and gazing out at the stars to think about how lucky I am must be a good day, right?
In the three years I was in Rawene, I learned much. However, the ara wairua is now calling me to move into a deeper layer of my whakapapa. In the end, all life is about whakapapa. We are the sum of all those who have gone before us.