Simon Hill on Passion, Perseverance, and the Future of Photography
Simon Hill HonFRPS is a British editorial and documentary photographer, currently serving as President and Chair of Trustees of the Royal Photographic Society. A lifelong member of the RPS, he earned his Fellowship in 1991 and was awarded an Honorary Fellowship in 2021. His work spans portraiture, heritage, and photojournalism, with publications in National Geographic, The Observer, and The Sunday Times Magazine. Hill is also Managing Director of VIDAR Media Group, designing exhibitions for museums globally. He holds degrees in photography and design, and is a Fellow of both the Royal Geographical Society and Royal Society of Arts.
HM: Tell us about your early connection to photography.
SH: Sure. I was born in Shirebrook, Derbyshire, in the North Midlands of England in 1964 so, yes, that makes me 60 now. My father was a passionate amateur photographer and some of my earliest memories are of watching him taking photographs. This was when the photography ‘bug’ really bit me. I was about three years old when I realized I wanted to take photographs myself. Of course, it would have been too much to expect my Dad to just hand over his camera - it was a 21st birthday gift from his parents. But he did allow me to use it while he watched over me, which felt magical at that age. I learnt so much from my dad … about exposure, viewpoint, composition, narrative … In fact I am sure it was from him that I developed my all-consuming love for making photographs that I still have to this day.
HM: That sounds like a formative experience. When did you get your own camera?
SH: My dad - a teacher by profession - realised just how keen I was to take photographs and my parents gave me my own camera some time after my third birthday. It was a very simple film camera; there were no settings to adjust … I just had to point, shoot, and hope I captured something worthwhile. There wasn’t even a focus ring! A couple of years later, when I was around five, I got my first real camera. I say a “real” camera because this one had actual settings on it - the first was the focus - it was near or far - and the second control was the exposure - again just two options, “sunny” or “cloudy.”
HM: It sounds like photography took hold of you early on.
SH: Absolutely. From that moment on, photography was my passion - I lived and breathed it - and that passion has not dwindled at all over the years; it is as intense and all-consuming today as it was back then. A huge turning point for me was when my dad took me along to a local photographic society, Bolsover Camera Club. It was (and still is) such a vibrant community of talented and dedicated enthusiast photographers, and each of them was so incredibly generous with their time and knowledge.
There I was, a young schoolboy, stepping into a group of incredibly skilled enthusiast photographers. But instead of brushing me off, they took me under their wing. They mentored me, shared their expertise, and nurtured my early enthusiasm. I genuinely owe so much of my photographic foundation to those early experiences with that group.
Some of my earliest work (aged 8 years)
(Pages from my photo album, 1972)
HM: How did those early lessons shape the photographer you are today?
SH: Those early days built on the fundamentals of photography that my father had taught me but, above all, it showed me that dedication and patience was required to make truly great photographs. But more than that, the members of the camera club instilled in me a real sense of community. Photography, at its best, is about connections: between the photographer and the subject, but also between the photographer and other artists. Our work as photographers, in common with other art forms, benefits so much from sharing skills, knowledge, the art and craft of photography. That’s something I’ve carried with me throughout my career and so many of my friendships have been made through photography.
The Cattle Market, Newark on Trent, Nottinghamshire, England
(Taken for my Photography A-level portfolio while in high school, 1983)
HM: It sounds like your passion for photography was truly self-driven. Did you ever formally study photography in school?
SH: No, actually - I didn’t. Photography wasn’t on the school curriculum back then, so I had to teach myself. It was taught at art college so, while at school, I studied independently and prepared for the exam, went to the local college to sit the exam, and passed it on my own. That self-discipline shaped a lot of my approach to the craft. But perhaps the most significant step forward for my engagement with photography came when I was about 16. One of the members of that local camera club gave a presentation of his work. I remember it to this day … he showed a series of grainy and fairly high contrast black and white prints - and they were all so beautifully printed. His work made such an impression on me that I asked him so many questions. He was so generous with his answers and with his encouragement for me. I also noticed that he had four letters after his name - FRPS - and he explained that this meant he was a Fellow of the Royal Photographic Society (the RPS). His name was Philip Elliott FRPS and until this meeting, I had never heard of the RPS.
Children playing in the forest near Hội An, south of Đà Nẵng, Vietnam
(Personal photograph taken while working on a National Geographic project, Vietnam, 1997)
HM: What was it about Philip’s photography that made such a lasting impression?
SH: Philip’s photographs had a unique style, his ‘signature’ style if you like, with a depth and emotional punch that I had never seen before; and in every image he demonstrated the power of photography to tell a story, to create an emotional response from the viewer. I was sure those letters after his name, FRPS, were an indicator of his creative achievement. I didn’t really know what being a ‘Fellow’ of the RPS actually meant but I had this gut feeling that it signified something very important. I thought, “If I can earn those letters, maybe someday I’ll be as good as Philip.” So, I finally worked up the courage to ask him how they were earned.
THE JOURNEY TO FELLOWSHIP
HM: And how did he respond?
SH: He told me that a Fellowship of the Royal Photographic Society is the highest of three awards - Licentiate, Associate, Fellowship - awarded to photographers whose work has been assessed by their peers - other Fellows - and is considered to be of such a high standard that the Fellowship can be awarded. It was the way Philip took my question seriously, treating my curiosity with kindness and respect that I decided, that day, that earning my FRPS was going to be my goal.
HM: It sounds like Philip’s mentorship left a profound mark. How did that ambition shape your journey moving forward?
SH: Philip’s mentorship gave me focus and drive. Up until then, photography had been a passion and a joy - but now, it became something more structured, something I could aim for. The FRPS wasn’t just an award; it represented - then, as it does today - the highest recognition from one of the oldest and most respected photographic institutions in the world and, somehow, I knew the journey to gaining my Fellowship would be a journey through which I could engage more fully with photography.
Balloon seller, Central Pier, Blackpool, Lancashire, England
(From ’The North Revisited’ photo documentary project, 2024)
HM: That’s a powerful motivation. Did achieving the FRPS live up to what you had imagined back then?
SH: Without a doubt; but it was the journey to gaining a Fellowship - rather than the award itself - that provided the real benefit. That journey taught me about how to use photography to create meaningful and powerful bodies of work; it taught me also about patience, commitment, and the importance of the wider photographic and art community. Every mentor, every critique session, every print I made, was part of a bigger exploration of photography and, when I was awarded my Fellowship in 1991 (aged 27) it felt like a tribute to those early influences: especially to my father, for his introduction of photography; to Philip, who encouraged and inspired my ambition to gain a Fellowship; and to all the photographers, mentors and critics who had helped me on that journey.
HM: That must have been a huge boost, especially for someone so young. Did that qualification influence your next steps?
SH: Definitely. Even before I earned the first of the three RPS distinctions - Licentiate (LRPS) - I had already decided that I wanted photography to be my profession and that I wanted to study photography at art college. So, when the time came to speak with my school careers advisor, I was clear about my ambition.
I remember sitting down and confidently saying, “I want to be a photographer.” But the response I was given was not really encouraging! “That’s a nice hobby, but what about a real job?” I stood my ground and repeated, “No, I want to be a photographer and that’s what I am going to be.” We ended up agreeing to disagree, but that moment stuck with me - it was one of those early reminders that you really have to fight for your creative ambitions.
Café, Middlesex Street, London
(From ’This is London’, published 2013)
HM: It sounds like you were determined to follow your passion, despite the skepticism.
SH: Absolutely. I applied to several art colleges to study photography. When I went for interviews, the admissions tutors were impressed. They said, “Oh, you’ve got your LRPS. You don’t need to show us your A Levels then.” That was a bit dangerous for me to hear! I went back to school thinking, “Great, I’ve already secured my place at art college; I don’t need to focus on my A Levels anymore.” Unsurprisingly, my A-level results were dreadful. But at that point, it didn’t really matter because I had a clear path forward.
HM: And that path led you to Blackpool College?
SH: Yes, exactly. I went to Blackpool College of Art, which at the time was one of the top three photography colleges in the UK - especially for commercial and advertising photography. Its reputation was second to none in that field, and it was the perfect place for me to develop my skills in a more professional and specialized environment. I threw myself into the program and graduated with distinction, which was incredibly rewarding. After that, I went straight into advertising photography.
Gathering rhubarb at the farm of E. Oldroyd & Sons, Rothwell, West Yorkshire, England
(From ’The North Revisited’ photo documentary project, 2025)
HM: What was your experience like working in advertising?
SH: Hmmm. I suppose the short answer to that is that it was a bit of a mistake. I didn’t really get any personal fulfillment from creating images simply to sell a product to a consumer. I just felt I wanted to use my art of photography for a ‘higher’ purpose. Of course, I have great respect for the work produced by advertising photographers and my brief time in that sector proved immensely valuable in some ways. I stayed in the advertising sector for about two years, and it taught me the importance of precision, deadlines, and working within a tight creative brief; these are skills that have stayed with me throughout my career. But, I realized that the commercial side of photography wasn’t fulfilling my creative instincts. It was technically challenging, sure, but it lacked the emotional depth and narrative that had first drawn me to photography as a child.
The final stage of the UCI World Cycling Championships (Elite Men) 2019
(Taken for syndication through GAMMA Photos, 2019)
OUT OF ADVERTISING AND INTO ARCHAEOLOGY
HM: So what happened next?
SH: Honestly, I just didn’t enjoy advertising photography and found myself thinking, ”I’ve got to get out of this somehow.” And then, completely by chance, I came across a job opportunity in a local archaeological unit. It wasn’t something I had planned - at all, ever - but I thought, ”Why not?”
So, I took a massive salary cut, lost my company perks, and thought, ”I’ll do this for a year or two and see what happens.”
Beaver skull in Eller Beck, North York Moors, England
(Taken for York Archaeological Trust; application for FRPS, 1991)
HM: During your career in archaeological and editorial photography, you earned the FRPS. Can you tell us more about that?
SH: Yes, that was in 1991. I’d gained my LRPS at school, my ARPS at art college, and my Fellowship in 1991. So, if I do the maths, 1991 minus 1964 means I must have been 27 years old … [Laughs]... so it had taken me from the age of 16 to the age of 27 - 11 years - to go from enthusiastic schoolboy photographer to Fellow of the RPS. I remember the feeling when I received the letter confirming my election as a Fellow - I was ‘over the moon’ - it was such a significant personal milestone for me.
My Fellowship portfolio comprised a mix of editorial photographs - some from my work at the archaeological unit, some from my freelance work for government bodies (like the Ordnance Survey and British Museum), and some from my magazine work (National Geographic, Sunday Times and the Observer). This was a really busy time in my life; I had my full time job in archaeology but was also pushing hard at establishing my own editorial photography business. Gaining my Fellowship really propelled me on that journey.
HM: So, you joined the archaeological unit in York, as a photographer, and you were finishing your own freelance work, but you quickly got swept up in some fascinating work. Could you tell us a bit about that experience?
SH: Sure. When I joined the York Archaeological Trust, I intended to stay for no more than a couple of years. The Trust was really forward-thinking - not just the traditional “dig a hole in the ground and see what you can find” type of archaeology. They had a core focus on public engagement and innovative methods of cultural interpretation, along with the usual excavation and research activities.
One of their major interpretation projects was the creation of the JORVIK Viking Center in York; essentially a recreated Viking village on the actual site of an excavated Viking site which, because of the centuries of build-up of waste and earth, is now underground. JORVIK is an underground Viking themed but archaeologically accurate visitor attraction.
The Anglo-Saxon helmet from Coppergate, York, England
(Courtesy of York Archaeological Trust and the British Museum, 2000)
HM: So as a photographer with the archaeological trust and building your own editorial photography business, how did you come to establish a design company; how did that evolve?
SH: Well, being involved in the Viking Center redevelopment at the York Archaeological Trust triggered the idea. I was already doing photography and was also drawn to the idea of designing and building museums, taking what we dug up and turning it into an immersive experience for visitors. We formed a company for that purpose within the trust, which was ultimately sold on. But I realized I didn’t want to be on the “sold” side of things. I liked York, I liked the heritage work, and I loved working with the amazing team at the archaeological trust, so I decided to set up my own museum design company. No sooner had I set it up, the trust hired my new company to design and build its new exhibitions! It turned out to be a great move. The demand for museum exhibitions, interactive displays, and immersive historical experiences was growing, so the company really took off.
HM: And then there was this opportunity to buy the original Viking Center exhibition. Could you talk about how that came about?
SH: It was a bit of an unbelievable stroke of luck. The York Archaeological Trust wanted to refurbish and modernize JORVIK, which they owned and operated. Naturally, they needed to remove the old exhibition to make way for the new. But removing an entire exhibition is expensive—you have labour costs and potential landfill fees, plus the environmental and PR concerns of just throwing it all away.
So I approached them and said, “I’ll take it off your hands for free.” But for legal reasons, they had to sell it rather than just give it away. My immediate reaction was, “Oh no, I can’t afford to buy this outright.” But they explained they had to conduct a proper transaction, and they ended up selling it to me for one British pound. I’ll never forget that moment—I handed over a single pound coin to the archaeological trust finance director, and that was it, the whole exhibition was officially mine!
HM: That must have been thrilling—and maybe a bit daunting. How did you physically move an entire Viking exhibition?
SH: Exactly, it was thrilling in the moment, but once I had the signed paperwork, I realized I had no plan to deal with all this stuff. I’d just become the proud owner of a huge exhibit made up of Viking village reconstruction, signage, props, dozens of life size mannequins … the whole lot!
I recruited the biggest guys I could find from my judo club and my rugby club, promising them pizza and beer if they’d help me pack the exhibit into 40-foot shipping containers. Over the course of four days, working through the days and the nights, we painstakingly dismantled the old JORVIK and loaded everything into the containers. I ended up with three containers’ worth of exhibit materials.
Only then did it hit me: What am I actually going to do with all of this? I put the containers into storage and started brainstorming ideas.
HM: So you suddenly had three full containers of a dismantled Viking village. Where did you take it from there?
SH: The turning point came when I went on a trip around Iceland with some friends to celebrate my 40th birthday. We rented a car in Reykjavík and drove the “ring road” that circles the island. We stopped at every museum and I tried to sell them the old JORVIK - quite literally pitching the idea as we wandered around. Everyone was kind but noncommittal. I think they suspected these random Brits were making an oddball offer they couldn’t verify. Finally, at a museum in a place called Hafnarfjörður (between Keflavík and Reykjavík), the staff showed genuine interest. However, they didn’t want to purchase the exhibit. They offered to rent it instead, and for the exact same price I’d been quoting for the sale. I remember saying, “Wait, so you want to pay me the same amount you’d pay to buy it, but just rent it for a year, and at the end of the year, you’ll return it to me?” They said yes. And obviously, that sounded like a win-win situation to me, so I agreed.
Öxarárfoss, Þingvellir National Park, Iceland
(Personal photograph taken while working in Iceland, 2012)
HM: That’s incredible. So you shipped your containers over to Iceland?
SH: Yup. I flew my judo and rugby friends out to Iceland, and we rebuilt JORVIK in Hafnarfjörður. They displayed it for a year and, when the year ended, they asked to renew for another twelve months—again, at the same rate. So effectively, they paid me twice for something I had only spent a pound to acquire. That must have been the best deal I ever struck! After the second year, they decided they’d had their fill of Vikings, so it was time for us to pack up again. We took everything down, loaded it back into the containers, and shipped it out of Iceland.
HM: So that was the end of the Iceland adventure. What happened next?
SH: By that point, I’d realized this exhibit had some serious life left in it, and I could still profit from it but a Swedish theatre company made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, so they bought it outright. So, in total, I got paid three times for the same exhibit; the initial year’s rental, the second year’s rental, and then the final sale. Not bad considering it cost me a single pound and a bit of sweat from my judo and rugby buddies.
HM: That’s quite a remarkable story. A museum exhibit that traveled from York to Reykjavík and then presumably found a new home in Sweden—all thanks to your initiative. Looking back, what do you think made this venture so successful?
SH: I’d say it was partly seizing the opportunity when it arose - seeing the value in something others were about to discard. Another big factor was the willingness of my friends to help. Had I needed professional removal teams, the costs might have made me hesitate. And of course, there was the global appeal of Viking history. Tourists love the lore, the artefacts, and the immersive experience of cultural interpretation.
Finally, I guess it helped that I was both bold and a bit naïve. If I’d worried too much about every logistical detail, I might have talked myself out of it. Instead, I dove in and figured it out as I went. It taught me that sometimes, the best opportunities require a leap of faith - and a lot of heavy lifting!
Oliver Clarke and Robert Harris, groundsmen, York Cemetery, City of York, England
(From ’The English in Particular’, 2017)
Winner of International Art Portrait Photographer of the Year, 2019
HM: It sounds like heritage-related work was a major driver for you. After Iceland, you moved to Ireland. What prompted that change?
SH: Yes, there was a tremendous amount of heritage work happening in Ireland. We found ourselves winning one job after another - museum projects, cultural projects, interpretive signage. My children were grown, so we were more mobile. My dog could come along too, so we thought, “Why not?” My wife and I moved to Ireland to seize those opportunities.
HM: Then Brexit happened. How did that affect you professionally and personally?
SH: It was a massive shift. When the UK decided to leave the EU, suddenly we weren’t part of the world’s largest trading bloc. It really hit home because, while I was still a UK tax resident, I was doing most of my work in Ireland - which remained in the EU. For my Irish clients, it was much simpler to work with someone who was based fully within the EU; they didn’t have the added complications of employing a non-EU contractor. I think many felt Britain had “done the dirty” on Ireland, which is understandable. You could sense that they preferred working with suppliers still in the EU. So, we ultimately decided to move back to the UK in 2019. Ironically, my wife has dual English-Irish citizenship so I was definitely the odd man out!
Stonehenge, Wiltshire, UK (constructed 3000BC-2000BC)
(Courtesy of the Crown Estate and English Heritage, 2019)
ENGAGING MORE WITH THE RPS
HM: Around this time, you became more engaged with the work of the Royal Photographic Society. Could you walk us through that journey?
SH: Sure. Once I was back in the UK, I saw that the RPS - an organization of which I’d been a member for over 40 years - had put out a call for new trustees. I’d always had a strong affinity with and great respect for the RPS; it had been good to me throughout my photography career. So I applied and in 2019 the members elected me a trustee.
By November of that same year, the then-President of the RPS resigned prematurely, and the President Elect took over. That left the President Elect position vacant and the Board unanimously voted me in as the new President Elect. I thought, “Okay, here I am, a brand-new trustee, and suddenly I’m President Elect - this is all happening pretty fast!” Well, soon after that, things took a turn that none of us expected.
In January 2021, the new President also resigned. So, having only joined the board in September 2019, some 16 months later I found myself as President and Chair of the Council (Board of Trustees) of the Royal Photographic Society. It was such an unexpected turn of events but I embraced it and, with my colleagues on the Board, I started work on a strategy to turn the Society around and make it more ‘fit for purpose’ in the twenty-first century.
In 2023 I was re-elected for a second term and, apparently, this makes me the longest-serving President since James Glaisher (the celebrated Victorian astronomer and meteorologist) in the late 1800s. As if that wasn’t enough, two years later in April 2025, I was re-elected for a third term and this will make me the third longest-serving President in RPS history, after Sir Frederick Pollock (the second President, 1855-1869) and James Glaisher (the third and fifth President, 1869-74 and 1875-92).
Sir James Bellingham Graham, 11th Baronet of Norton Conyers
(Commissioned by the Trustees of the Norton Conyers Estate, 2018)
Winner of the BIPP Professional Photographer of the Year 2019
A NEW VISION FOR THE RPS
HM: That’s a remarkable trajectory! Given your swift rise to President, what vision or mission did you bring to the RPS?
SH: The first question I asked was, “What does the RPS do today, and why does it matter?” It’s one of the oldest photographic societies in the world - steeped in history and connected to legends like William Henry Fox Talbot and Julia Margaret Cameron. Yet I sensed it wasn’t resonating with contemporary photographers the way it could.
Once I became President, I worked with my colleagues on the Board, our Executive staff, and our members, to reassess the purpose of the Society. Through extensive consultations, we quickly realized we needed to widen our reach so, in 2021, we launched a five-year strategy called “Photography for Everyone”. The essence of this strategy was to broaden our demographic beyond the traditional older, higher-income enthusiast photographer. We’re aiming to make the RPS relevant to younger photographers, phone camera enthusiasts, experimental digital artists, professional photographers, and everyone in between. After all, photography is everywhere and practiced by almost everyone.
‘Kill the Bill’ demonstration, outside Buckingham Palace, London
(Taken for syndication through GAMMA Photos, 2021)
Winner of a FIAP Medal for Photojournalism, 2021
BRINGING IN NEW VOICES
HM: How are you going about bringing fresh perspectives to an organization with such a long heritage?
SH: We’re focusing on outreach and education. For instance, I teach photography part-time in a secondary school. I see immense talent and creativity in teenagers. Yet the RPS is nowhere on their radar, they have no reason to join. If these young photographers aren’t attracted to the Society, we’re missing a massive opportunity. We have to show them we’re not just an “old boys’ club” but a vibrant, supportive community that can open doors, offer mentoring, host events, exhibit work, and celebrate new photography styles.
So, the strategy involves everything from social media engagement and online exhibitions to partnerships with schools, colleges, and community groups. We want the RPS to feel like a place for all photographers - whether they shoot on an iPhone or the latest medium-format digital camera.
Performers before the event, ‘Illuminate Oldham’, Oldham, Lancashire, England
(From ’The North Revisited’ photo documentary project, 2025)
HM: In your opinion, where is photography headed - especially with the rapid rise of AI and new technologies?
SH: Photography is definitely in flux. Artificial Intelligence (AI), for example, will change how we do commercial photography. If a brand like Nike wants product shots in different environments, a designer could use AI to create those images without ever hiring a photographer or shooting on location. This worries some professionals, because it could eat into their bread-and-butter commercial work.
But it’s not all doom and gloom. There’s a trend back toward authenticity - real moments, unfiltered life, and storytelling with integrity. There’s also a push for more diverse voices, inclusive representation, and environmental or socially conscious themes. Technology - like drones, 3D, and VR - offer new creative frontiers for experienced image makers. Meanwhile, smartphone cameras continue to evolve, putting ever-more-capable tools in everyone’s pocket.
I think the key for photographers is to adapt: to embrace new technologies while staying true to their craft, whether that means capturing genuine human stories or exploring new realms like AI-enhanced imaging. Ultimately, photography’s future is full of potential, so long as we remain open to innovation and true to the integrity of photography … not passing off an AI-manipulated image as a genuine unadulterated photograph. It is a world full of potential but we shouldn’t kid ourselves that it is without considerable danger to truth and authenticity.
Toy bear, a childhood keepsake of John Hajdu MBE, holocaust survivor
(For ‘Jewish News’, taken on the 80th anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp)
HM: Finally, what are your priorities now, both for yourself and for the RPS, as you continue in your role as President?
SH: We surged forward with the “Photography for Everyone” strategy - broadening the membership to what will soon be the highest membership base in RPS history, bringing in younger photographers, and strengthening partnerships with educational institutions. My Trustee colleagues are now creating the next five year strategic plan, for 2026-2030. At the same time, we’re preserving the historical and scholarly aspects that make the RPS special.
Closing one of the biospheres, Boulby Underground Laboratory (1.1km underground), Boulby, North Yorkshire, England
(From ’The North Revisited’ photo documentary project, 2025)
HM: And what about your own photography; where is this heading?
SH: On a personal level, I’m continuing to teach photography and to make new photographic work. Photography is my passion; now I am winding-down my design work, I am finding more time to pursue my ‘first love’: documentary photography. I have just started a huge project - The North Revisited - which aims to build on the 1960s work of John Bulmer (another Fellow of the Royal Photographic Society). It is a year-long project to document the changing face of the post-industrial north of England and is generously funded by Arts Council England, MPB, HARMAN Technology and Hahnemuhle. Separately to this, I’m also working with the University of Durham to document the declining inshore fishing industry of Holy Island. I’m having a great time; every day brings new photographic opportunities, whether that is teaching young and aspiring photographers, or pursuing my own documentary endeavours.
George Kyle, fisherman, Holy Island, Northumberland, England
(From ’The Last Fishermen of Holy Island’ portrait photography series, 2025)
Dick Patterson, former fisherman, Holy Island, Northumberland, England
(From ’The Last Fishermen of Holy Island’ portrait photography series, 2025)
HM: Thank you so much, Simon. It’s been fascinating to hear about your journey from archaeological photography to leading the Royal Photographic Society. Best of luck with the ongoing expansion and modernization, and with your northern documentary project!
SH: Thank you - it’s been a pleasure chatting with you. I greatly appreciate your interest and support for the RPS and I hope this interview might encourage more photographers, from all walks of life, to look at the Royal Photographic Society as a route to improving their enjoyment and understanding of photography.