‘The James Bond of photography’: William (Bill) Lindberg (1929-2026)

Friday, 24 April 2026

The All Stars had arrived late to Hamilton. The band was hungry, their bass player was drunk and a crowd of around 300 outside the Founders Theatre had to be negotiated before they could set up.

Their leader was ever the affable entertainer in public. Louis Armstrong betrayed neither the strain of the moment nor his 62 years, maintaining his trademark beaming smile even when caught in a mild tussle between local radio personality Laurie Borck and the All Stars' no-nonsense road manager, Ira Mangel.

It was fortunate that Hamilton's best image maker was at hand to capture the interaction. Soon afterwards, as Armstrong strode onto the Founders' stage, Bill Lindberg followed at a discreet distance. When the jazz icon reached the stage door he turned around suddenly, looked the photographer square in the eye and intoned playfully, with one of the distinctive voices of the 20th century, 'where do you want me, boy?'

Bill took the shot. Louis Armstrong in Hamilton was immortalised, the image reflecting the subject's warmth and legendary humanity. Fifty years later it would grace a poster advertising a celebration of the 1963 Armstrong concerts. Bill's photograph of the musician outside the theatre would become the centre piece of a special plaque unveiled that day. Bill himself again served as an official photographer, covering the 2013 event.

A Hamilton photographer for well over 60 years, recognised nationally, Bill Lindberg's skills extended from weddings and portraits to commercial, industrial and advertising work, architectural studies and beyond. Aside from Armstrong, he catalogued other famous visitors to the city: Dame Vera Lynn, the sex symbol sensation Sabrina and then incumbent Prime Minister Keith Holyoake and his wife.

It was a miracle that Bill had made it to Hamilton in the first place. Enduring a youth of tragedy and near constant danger, he renamed - and remade - himself three times over, eventually adopting the persona of the handsome, charming yet unobtrusive professional, amongst the best New Zealand photographers of his generation.

Villis Zelmars Eglitis was born 14 November, 1929, in Lubana, Latvia, the son of Oskars Eglitis and Anna Eglitis. In an era when Latvia enjoyed independence and a measure of agriculturally based economic success, young Villis' home village, three hours’ drive east of Riga, was prosperous. His first decade, if blighted by the separation of his parents, was a happy time. He fondly remembered his stint in the Boy Scouts.

The Soviet invasion of Latvia in June, 1940 and the country's subsequent incorporation into the USSR had dire consequences for Oskars Eglitis, a police chief. Having a formal association with the independent government was sufficient grounds for deportation to Siberia. Villis never saw his birth father again.

A year later came the Nazi invasion and further hostilities. By the end of July, 1941, Latvia was part of the Third Reich and Villis had become William Lindenberg, adopting a new name to reflect his mother's second marriage. Fridriks (Fred) Lindenberg, his stepfather, was of both Latvian and German descent and with the future of the war uncertain, a decision was taken to flee to safety in Germany itself.

Life as refugees in a totalitarian state was far from pleasant. Briefly living in a castle, the Lindenbergs settled in Magdeburg, then Allenstein, then Koenigsberg, as Fred chased employment possibilities. An ill-advised aside questioning some pronouncement by Hitler saw him reported on, resulting in a nocturnal visit from a pair of SS officers. Let off with a warning, Fred devised a set of rules regarding public behaviour for the family. Meanwhile, Bill, who spoke no German, was being bullied by the Hitler Youth at school. On one occasion, at a railway station, he witnessed a Jewish woman shot in the head, having dared to protest her husband's treatment in the overcrowded train carriage they were being kept in, en route to a death camp.

Bill's language skills were to improve but the family's situation worsened under the threat of the Soviet advance. A boat trip through mine infested waters to Swinemuende was followed by times being caught in Allied bombing raids. In Peenemunde, separated from his parents, asked to do what he could for his young sister Waltraud, who was in hospital with scarlet fever, the now teenage Bill was fortunate to survive a particularly intensive night of further bombing, taking shelter in a crater. After Waltraud's tragic death he himself came close to being shot as a looter, only dissuading the soldier who was levelling a luger at him by feigning loyalty to the regime, screaming out 'seig heil' repeatedly.

Bill's reunion with Fred and the pregnant Anna saw him receive the news that his sister Gerda had also perished. The family only achieved a measure of security when they escaped into Denmark in the dying days of the war. Destroying evidence of their connection to either Germany or Latvia, the Lindenbergs again shaped their identity to their environment, avoiding deportation.

Bill found work and accommodation at the Palace Hotel in Copenhagen. It was here that he encountered a New Zealand delegation keen to encourage post-war immigration. So it was that the entire family, including Bill's sister Edite and brother Armin, arrived in Wellington in the spring of 1950. In his 21st year, Bill could speak not a single word of English.

The Lindenbergs would settle in Christchurch, where Bill was employed briefly as a street sweeper. As his command of the local tongue improved he worked as a bar tender at the Clarendon Hotel then a store clerk. Making the acquaintance of an established professional photographer, Charlie Waters, he assisted on a few rugby assignments and found his vocation.

Bill's initial attempt to establish a photography business in Christchurch was unsuccessful. With next to no money and comparatively little experience, he elected to follow his then girlfriend north, arriving in Hamilton in August, 1957.

He would make one significant change to his image. Bill Lindenberg would henceforth become Bill Lindberg, founder of Lindberg Photography. Erasing all connection to his horrendous past, he presented himself as a polite, professional gentleman and became known as much for his friendly demeanour as his fine eye, artistic flair and grasp of the latest technology. One industry colleague christened him 'the James Bond of photography'.

His first studio was located behind the Garden Place Pharmacy. Initial business was drummed up from cold calling and involved a disproportionate amount of children's portraits, not necessarily Bill's forte. Happily, an assignment to photograph Hamilton's new Mormon temple led to a two decade relationship with the Latter-Day Saints church. Later clients of significance included the New Zealand Dairy Company, Plastic Products, Trigon Plastics, the Hamilton Operatic Society and the Wānanga Kaiwhakairo Carving School in Te Awamutu.

Bill met Joy Walker on a water skiing outing. They were to marry on 8 March, 1964 and have two children, Mark and Julia. Joy also became a vital part of Lindberg Photography as larger premises were secured in 1987 in the Victoria St Railway Building and, later still, a custom built studio on Rostrevor St. In the opinion of the couple's close friend and colleague, Gerald Wilson, the business constituted 'the Waikato's leading portrait, wedding and industrial studio…a household name for many years'.

Also in 1987, Bill won the Champion Print Award at the New Zealand Institute of Professional Photography Awards, its most prestigious annual accolade, the 'Photographer of the Year'. The NZIPP would later confer upon him its life membership, a recognition not only of his talent and decades of achievement, 'documenting decades of growth in the Waikato and beyond' but his willingness to mentor and encourage others within the profession.

When Joy died in 1996 Bill was 67 years old. Belying family expectation that he would retire, he instead invested in an expensive computer system, taught himself Photoshop and became an expert in digital photography and photo restoration.

In the fullness of time his long friendship with Yvonne Foreman would blossom into romance, a relationship that continued across several different dwellings, the two sustaining their respective professional careers in shared, dedicated office-studios.

In 2016 Bill and Yvonne shifted into the Highfield Country Estate in Te Awamutu, making many new friends. A diagnosis of dementia in 2020, coupled with physical decline in his early to mid 90s was understandably frustrating for a man of independence and high achievement.

Bill Lindberg brought a sense of good fortune to his adult life, withholding or drip feeding the darker secrets of his youth from his children when they themselves were young. A profoundly loving father and partner, his character was marked by positivity, hard work, humour and charm. As a visual chronicler of Hamilton in the second half of the 20th century there was none to match him.

William Lindberg died 30 March, 2026 in Te Awamutu. He is survived by his partner Yvonne Foreman, children Mark and Julia, their respective spouses Fiona and Philip and grandchildren Chase, Tom, Harry and Olivia, Aiden and Abbie.