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Photographer of the Year 2011

Congratulations to all the winners of the New Zealand Geographic Photographer of the Year 2011. Twenty-two finalists were selected from nearly 3000 entries, but there could be only one Photographer of the Year.

Congratulations to all the winners of the New Zealand Geographic Photographer of the Year 2011. Twenty-two finalists were selected from nearly 3000 entries, but there could be only one Photographer of the Year.

Exhaustion and grief are written across the face of a Samoan man carrying the body of his grandchild to a waiting hearse outside Moto’otua Hospital, Apia, where it will be transported to the morgue. There were so many dead as a result of the tsunami, that bodies were stored in the hospital’s chapel awaiting identification. This image, entered in the Photo Story category, demonstrated Phibbs’ nerve and skill—gaining trust, stepping into difficult personal circumstances and creating images in extremely low light without the aid (or intrusion) of a flash. The subsequent year he would bring the same skills to bear on home soil, photographing the Canterbury earthquake.
The lower Cascade River in South Westland takes a meandering course to the sea. I have tried to photograph it several times, but with little success, until I decided to try at first light. We arrived by helicopter before dawn. There was fog rolling across the flats and we couldn’t see the river, so we flew backwards and forwards for about half an hour as it gradually cleared, until there was a sheen of reflected sky light off the surface. It involved quite a bit of manoeuvring to get the highlights reflecting off the curves the way I wanted them—a few metres up and the reflected light died, a few metres down and the sensuous curves did not flow through the composition in a way that I liked.
Like good theatre, good photography relies on drama, humour and import. Brett Phibbs’ portfolio was rich in all. Visitors to Narrowneck Beach on the North Shore watch a display of lightning behind Rangitoto under the glow of sodium street lamps.
I often photograph in Hagley Park—with the changing conditions and seasons, it always provides something different. I’d been planning a sunrise shot over Lake Victoria for quite some time, and on this particular morning, conditions looked superb, with low fog. But instead of a lake, I found a giant mud pit—the earthquakes, aftershocks and heavy snows had caused major damage to the park’s water features and trees. Luckily the pinetum is still standing—a collection of some 170 pines—so I waited for the sun to rise further into this copse and timed the shot so as to capture cyclists and walkers at the key points, bathed in glowing morning light.
Like a battle scene from Star Wars, Snares crested penguins hunt for their daily portion of squid, fish and krill at speeds in excess of 20 km/h. Being of similar size to the penguins’ natural predators made it incredibly hard for me to get close enough to photograph. I was forced to shoot in strong backlit conditions that pushed the dynamic range of my camera to the limit but highlighted trails of bubbles left in their wakes and suspended particles in the water and made the surface luminous.
Saleapaga, on the south coast of Samoa’s main island, was one of the villages worst affected by the 2009 tsunami, which tore through the seaside fales and claimed 186 lives. A year on, a new village had been constructed five kilometres inland. I spent a comparatively long time in this makeshift village, gained the trust of the locals and could move around almost unnoticed. Eventually, I found three-year-old Aloali’i sitting among husked coconuts being dried for market. She had an unusual solitude. The light was low, but perfect. I positioned myself above her with a wide-angle lens, and as she glanced up, I released the shutter. Her eyes have everything.
Numerous mass whale strandings have occurred in New Zealand since records began in 1840, and Farewell Spit is one of the most frequent locations for those involving long-finned pilot whales. On the first evening, I initially photographed, and then joined, teams of volunteers cooling and hydrating 84 whales and preparing them for the fast-rising midnight tide. DOC cleared the beach at dusk as it was too dangerous to stay in the shallows. I slept in the car, and before dawn went back to find just 14 whales left on the sand. Most of the other whales had self-rescued, a rare occurrence. The light on that second day was extraordinarily hazy, filtering through dark cloud and fine drizzle. Later that morning, dozens of people waded chest-deep into the sea at Pakawau to stop a small group of the surviving whales trying to beach again. DOC staff would spend another two days shadowing the fragmented pod, refloating them three more times before the whales moved to the safety of deep water. For several hundred committed, caring people, February 4, 2011 will be remembered as the day they saved the whales.
Numerous mass whale strandings have occurred in New Zealand since records began in 1840, and Farewell Spit is one of the most frequent locations for those involving long-finned pilot whales. On the first evening, I initially photographed, and then joined, teams of volunteers cooling and hydrating 84 whales and preparing them for the fast-rising midnight tide. DOC cleared the beach at dusk as it was too dangerous to stay in the shallows. I slept in the car, and before dawn went back to find just 14 whales left on the sand. Most of the other whales had self-rescued, a rare occurrence. The light on that second day was extraordinarily hazy, filtering through dark cloud and fine drizzle. Later that morning, dozens of people waded chest-deep into the sea at Pakawau to stop a small group of the surviving whales trying to beach again. DOC staff would spend another two days shadowing the fragmented pod, refloating them three more times before the whales moved to the safety of deep water. For several hundred committed, caring people, February 4, 2011 will be remembered as the day they saved the whales.

There were nearly 3,000 entries received this year across the four categories. These were submitted by seasoned professionals, weekend shutterbugs and seven- year-olds. But, as always, no matter who shot it and on what equipment, it was the content that made the photograph.

From all of these entries, one photographer stood apart for his attention to detail, consistency of approach and photographic vision. New Zealand Geographic would like to congratulate Brett Phibbs, supreme winner at the 2011 Photographer of the Year awards.

PHOTOGRAPHER OF THE YEAR 2011: BRETT PHIBBS

“A hallmark of Phibbs’ approach is his fearless dedication to capturing human emotion. He will stand inches from his subject with his widest lens and shoot, point blank. He is a deserving winner in a competition that puts greatest value on real photographs of real life.” – James Frankham, Editor, New Zealand Geographic.

ALL AWARDS:

Issue 198

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Issue 198 Mar - Apr 2026

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