By Ivana Damnjanovic
If I could choose any cultural event to photograph, I’d pick the Hay Festival in Hay-on-Wye. This small town on the edge of Wales transforms every year into a place where books, ideas, and people come together. I’ve never been, but I’ve read about how the town, with its dozens of bookshops and peaceful countryside, fills with writers, readers, artists, and curious minds from all over the world. It’s not a loud, colorful event like a carnival or parade. It’s quieter, more thoughtful. But that’s exactly what makes it interesting to me as a storytelling challenge.
Photographing a literary festival like this would push me to think differently. Since books and ideas are usually experienced in private and silence, I’d have to look deeper to find the visual story. My approach would be patient and observational. I wouldn’t rush from tent to tent trying to catch the big moments. Instead, I’d wander and wait. I’d keep my camera ready for the small things: someone’s face lighting up during a reading, a writer nervously flipping through their notes before a panel, or a child curled up on a bench, lost in a book.
I’d also be drawn to the details. Photography isn’t just about faces. It’s about textures, light, and mood. I’d try to capture the weathered spines of books on a market table, steam rising from a paper cup in someone’s hand, or the way sunlight filters through the fabric of a festival tent. I think those kinds of images can say as much about the atmosphere as any wide shot of a crowd. And of course, I’d look for contrasts: crowds buzzing with conversation vs. silent corners where someone reads alone. These small visual opposites would help build a layered narrative.
The story I’d want my images to tell is one of curiosity and connection. Hay Festival may center on books, but at its heart, it’s about people coming together to share stories, ideas, and questions. I’d aim to show that quiet intensity, the way literature sparks something in people. My photos wouldn’t be loud or overly dramatic; they’d be warm, human, and full of quiet energy. I’d want someone looking at the photo series to feel like they’re walking through the festival, soaking up the thoughtful mood of the place.
What draws me to the Hay Festival in particular is the mix of settingand subject. It’s a festival that celebrates creativity and thought, but it’s not set in a big city or shiny convention center. It takes place in a small, book-loving town surrounded by green hills and rivers. That contrast between the local and the global, the quiet town and the big ideas feels special to me. I love the idea that for ten days, this little town becomes a meeting point for some of the world’s best storytellers and thinkers. It feels like the perfect space to explore how place and purpose come together in a unique way.
From a photography point of view, I know there would be both challenges and rewards. Lighting could be tough because many events happen inside tents or under cover, which might mean low light or uneven shadows. Some moments, like author talks or readings, can feel static from the outside, even if they’re emotionally powerful. So I’d need to be creative with angles, focus on expressions, and be sensitive to the quiet nature of the event. At the same time, that’s what makes it interesting. There’s beauty in subtlety.
In the end, photographing Hay wouldn’t just be about documenting an event. It would be about capturing the spirit of curiosity that brings people together there. I might not be a professional photographer yet, but I think with the right eye, and the right questions, you can still tell a powerful story through images. And that’s exactly what I would hope to do in Hay-on-Wye.
This article is part of the practical work carried out by students on the Master’s Degree in Travel Journalism at the School of Travel Journalism.