Celebrating Women in Photography – Lizzie Mayson

 

In 2025, Lizzie Mayson won The Claire Aho Award for Women Photographers. This category, introduced in 2021, aims to encourage and celebrate women photographers and is in memory of Claire Aho, Finland’s greatest women photographer.

For our latest blog, in celebration of International Women’s Day, we caught up with Lizzie to learn the story of that captivating winning photograph as well as her words of wisdom for women in photography.

 

1. Winning the Claire Aho Award for Women Photographers is a significant recognition. What did receiving this award mean to you personally and professionally?

It meant a great deal to me, a milestone in not only my career but my life too. Photography isn’t only a career for me, it also feels like a lifestyle at times. As a photographer, even when you’re working in teams on shoots, you can still somehow feel like a lone ranger, you’re making thousands of decisions quietly, in your own head, and you don’t always stop to clock what you’ve built.

Receiving recognition in a room full of peers was really affirming. It was one of those rare moments where you’re forced to pause and actually take it in, and let yourself feel proud. Personally, it felt like a deep exhale. A moment of self-reflection and adoration, and a reminder that the way I see the world does translate to other people.

Professionally, it gave me confidence to keep leaning into the kind of work I’m drawn to: human stories, warmth, and real life. It also felt meaningful that it’s a women’s award, not because I want to be “put in a box”, but because visibility matters. I want younger women looking at this industry to see that there’s space for them, and that you don’t have to be the loudest person in the room to make strong work.

Lizzie being awarded the Claire Aho Award for Women Photographers with Master of Ceremonies, Yotam Ottolenghi, and Fiona Shields, Judge and Head of Photography at The Guardian.

 

2. Your winning image of Delfina was from your Pasta Grannies project. What drew you to this project and what was Delfina’s particular story?

We have so much to learn from our elders, so a project involving delving into the kitchens of many Nonna’s felt like an honour. There’s something incredibly grounding about being in someone’s home where they’ve made the same recipes for decades. It’s not a set, it’s a life. And with Pasta Grannies it’s never just pasta. It’s heritage, love, survival, ritual, and family.

Delfina really stayed with me. She spends so much time looking after others. She makes so much pasta every week that a local church cooks for homeless people. That alone says everything about her. Her story offers a lot we could all learn from. Selflessness, generosity, belief, and empathy are words that come to mind, and also stamina, honestly. She has this quiet strength that isn’t performative at all. It’s just who she is.

I’m very grateful for that moment and experience. Capturing that kind of truth is why I photograph. And being awarded for sharing Pasta Grannies’ stories is rewarding in itself. I’m grateful to have shared her story, and I hope the image carries even a fraction of what it felt like to be there with her.

Lizze’s photograph of Delfina from her Past Grannies project won the Claire Aho Award for Women Photographers in 2025.

 

3. The women you photograph for Pasta Grannies are often working within private, personal spaces. How do you build trust and create an atmosphere where such authentic moments can unfold naturally?

This project is a testament to collaboration, teamwork, and capturing the moment. I can’t take full credit, Livia De Giovanni translated Italian for me, and that changes everything because it means you’re not guessing. You’re genuinely connecting. When someone feels understood, they relax. You’re also being respectful in a very practical way. You’re in someone’s home, in their personal space, and you have to treat that with care.

I also think older generations often aren’t as self-aware as younger generations. They’re not constantly monitoring how they look or how they’re coming across, so they act naturally without consciously trying. There’s a purity to that. They’re busy doing.

But I never rely on that alone. I try to enter gently. Small crew, calm energy, minimal fuss. I’m always watching for the moment someone seems unsure, and then I slow right down. Outside of this project, I normally converse with a subject before taking out the camera. I try to connect with them, put them at ease, smile, and make them feel fantastic. I want people to feel like themselves, not like they’re being shot. Often the trust comes from letting them lead. Letting them show you how they do it, letting them be proud of their hands, their kitchen, their way.

 

4. Food photography can sometimes feel highly styled or commercial, yet your work feels deeply human and grounded. How do you balance aesthetics with authenticity in your storytelling?

There is absolutely a place for highly stylised photography, and I love it when it’s done brilliantly. But I have always naturally been drawn to recreating more believable scenes. Images that still feel elevated, but could genuinely exist.

Balancing aesthetics and authenticity can be tricky. For me it comes down to intention. I’ll always ask myself whether this item should be there and why. Is it part of the person’s real world, or is it being placed because it looks nice? If it’s the second one, it usually goes. I want the styling to feel like it belongs to the story, not like it’s competing with it.

I’ll still shape the frame. Light, composition, small adjustments, maybe moving something slightly so it reads better. But I try not to polish the life out of it. The best images, in my opinion, hold both. They’re visually satisfying, but they still have breath in them. You can feel a person behind the food, not just a product.

 

5. On International Women’s Day, conversations often turn to visibility and opportunity. What barriers have you encountered as a woman in photography, and what changes would you still like to see in the industry?

Honestly, I am lucky to have been championed by men very early in my career and by women later on. I have always felt empowered to do anything without my sex causing restrictions or difficulties. My strong father, Charles, instilled this message among us three women in our household and he continues to do so with the grandchildren; going so far as to publish a women’s empowerment book to further instill this message.

That upbringing created a second nature in me that doesn’t let my sex detract from my professional path, or make me question my abilities in any facet of my life. I know that’s not everyone’s experience, so I never take it for granted. Even when I haven’t personally felt blocked, I’m very aware the industry can still be uneven. Who gets offered what, who gets paid what, whose leadership is assumed, who is expected to be easy, who is expected to be grateful. I’d love to see more transparency, more equal access, and more women in positions of commissioning power, not just being commissioned.

I really encourage young women to lean into self-empowerment and self-belief. I try to do the same for the younger generations by supporting, encouraging developing ideas, lending equipment, and most recently collaborating with universities to encourage and develop the new wave of talent coming into the industry. If we want change, we have to actively make space and pass things forward.

 

6. What advice would you give to women who want to pursue a career in photography?

Assist! Assist! Assist!, until you can’t do it anymore or when you really feel you have learnt all you can. Assisting teaches you how shoots actually run. The pace, the politics, the lighting, the client dynamic, the problem-solving. It also teaches you what kind of photographer you want to be, and what kind you don’t.

Collaborate too. Find others at similar stages, experiment, try to make work that stands out, be provocative with your work, and push the envelope. Don’t be disheartened when you don’t like the outcome.

"Throw your hat over the wall and keep scrambling after it."  (My father Charles Mayson's classic phrase would always ring out in my mind when taking risks)

The bad shoots are still data. You’re building taste and resilience, and both matter.

And a practical one. Take yourself seriously early. Protect your energy, learn to price properly, put boundaries around your time, and don’t wait for permission to start making the work you want to be hired for. Make your personal projects, and make them with heart, because the work that changes your career usually starts with you, not with a brief.

 

Enjoy here a browse of all the previous finalists of the Claire Aho Award for Women Photographers