KEY POINTS:
Tudor Collins was a noted photographer, particularly in Northland - a familiar name to many in the decades to 1970. Now, almost 40 years after his death, here is a remarkable book evidencing the true ability of a man who once said he "never used a light meter in my life".
Rather he judged an exposure by "if it was sunny by the feel of the sun on the back of my neck - and if it was dull by the light on my eyes. I won't say I always got it perfect, but usually I wasn't far out."
By way of introduction, Collins is described not just as a cameraman but also, at various times, a sailor, bushman, businessman, entrepreneur, traveller and farmer. And, when there was time, a bon vivant, adds author Paul Campbell.
The singular point about this publication is that for many of us who thought they knew something of the man, it demonstrates that his achievement and significance have hitherto been underrated.
The evidence is here in masterful, compelling photographs of kauri bush and all aspects of the industry that came to surround it.
Kauri Cameraman is a view of an important piece of our history and a depiction of this part of Collins' life and work in earlier times in Northland, Auckland and the Coromandel during the felling, harvesting, transport and milling of untold numbers of giant kauri trees.
Before the intensive commercial harvesting of kauri forests began in the mid-1800s there were stands of kauri covering about 1.2 million hectares. Over some 100 years this area was reduced by 90 per cent.
The photographs in this book are not the work of a man who wandered into the bush with a camera in his spare time. Collins lived and worked this hard physical life with his workmates and friends. You can read their acceptance in the faces and poses of the people in his pictures.
For him there was nothing he was unfamiliar with and he photographed it all, to the point where his mates may sometimes have wished he would put his camera away and get back to working a bit faster with his axe.
He knew how to fell the trees, or climb them to collect gum. And the hauling of the logs with bullocks through the mud or along bush railways. And how the bushmen built the dams holding back the water, which could then be released to carry the massive logs down to where they could be better handled and transported.
Collins also covered how these hard, fit men of the bush lived, cooked, ate and dealt with their brief periods of spare time.
His photographs are much more than a record of work in a dangerous industry. They also bear the imprint of Collins' clear admiration for the forest and its trees.
That may sound strange today when so little remains, thanks to the depredations of the kauri industry, but maybe that was an era we now don't understand well.
Kauri timber used to be a fact of New Zealand life. It meant jobs, income and timber for building and countless other uses. And kauri was a major factor in the economy of a young country that did not have much going for it.
It is no surprise that Kauri Cameraman bears the stamp of the Kauri Museum at Matakohe in lower Northland - one of the best small museums in New Zealand. A Tudor Collins wing opened there in 1967.
The photographs in the book come from his bequeathed collection of more then 2000 kauri pictures he took, as well as some from the family.
Thousands of words have previously been written about the kauri industry. Paul Campbell's neat economy of words accompanying the pictures of this outstanding book are informative, complementary and fit well. After all, in this case Collins' photographs speak volumes on their own, not least about himself.
* Kauri Cameraman ($69, plus $10 p&p if required) available at the Kauri Museum at www.kaurimuseum.com or (09) 431-7417. Or at Whitcoulls.
