There is nothing you can say about advertising that is always true. There is also nothing you can say about advertising that is never true.
This leads to big problems, lots of wasted money, and a very large quantity of disoriented, confused clients.
It makes it possible for a certain type of agency person — who is articulate but often wrong — to convince the impressionable and the naive to follow him.
David Morse, a member of the Indybay Collective (a collective of independent media organizations and hundreds of journalists offering grassroots, non-corporate coverage) was arrested on December 11, 2009 during protests at the UC Berkeley Chancellor’s house.
He wore a press badge, and repeatedly identified himself as a reporter to University of California police officers when they detained him. Nonetheless, campus police seized his camera and arrested him, initially charging him with several felonies. (source)
According to the First Amendment Project who represented David in court pro bono:
Prior to his release on bail the next day, the UCPD obtained a search warrant to look at the photographs Morse had taken. In obtaining the search warrant, the UCPD did not inform the judge of Morse’s claims that he was a journalist. The charges against Morse, which included rioting and vandalism, were dropped soon thereafter.
California Penal Code section 1524(g) provides that “no search warrant shall issue” for unpublished information gathered by a journalist during the course of newsgathering. The law was enacted in response to a U.S. Supreme Court decision which held that the First Amendment did not bar search warrants from being issued against newsrooms. Thus any protections journalists had in such circumstances must come from the legislature.
Judge Northridge issued her order over UC’s argument that section 1524(g) should not apply when the journalist was suspected of having committed or observed a crime. Judge Northridge also rejected UC’s argument that even if the search warrant was improper, UC should be permitted to keep copies of Morse’s photographs for use in its internal disciplinary investigations.
This seems like a good development for the photography biz:
Starting today in the Flickrverse, Flickr members and visitors can work with each other through a new program with Getty Images called “Request to License”. We’ve built this program on the success of our launch of the Flickr Collection on Getty Images just over one year ago.
So, how does it work? Under the Additional Information heading on your public photo pages you’ll see a “Want to license” link. Only you see this link. Visitors to your photos won’t.
Clicking the link will take you to your settings page where you can decide if you’d like to join the “Request to License” program. Choose the option that best suits your needs and “Save” to remove the “Want to license” notice from your page. If you join, visitors to your public photo pages will see a Request to License link.
I suppose, if you are holding out hope for some kind of resurgence in the stock photography business it looks like they’ve opened the floodgates for everyone, but the reality is one click licensing for content (license stream, picscout) already exists and is considered a holy grail for companies that can leverage millions of small sales into large profits for them. Giving people the option to buy instead of steal or CC license images is a good thing. It’s only a bad thing if you’re a Flickr photographer who thinks selling images to Getty actually leads somewhere (see BBC Story).
Now when companies go trolling for images on Flickr there’s the possibility that they will run into a real license for something they want to use. For most major advertising companies the liability is too great to dip into the found photo pool so this is not a huge chunk of the pro business we’re talking about.
“Another drink-related shot I’m afraid. I love this corner. It stands on the boundary between the street market of Brick Lane and London’s financial district. The corner gets good light, a wide range of people passing by and it also happens to have a quirky pub on the corner which lets you take your drinks outside and watch the world go by. One busy Sunday afternoon I was standing there pint of Guinness in one hand, camera in the other, not really expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen. Well obviously something did and I just happened to be standing next to the man who ended up falling on the tarmac. I don’t think anyone who has seen this shot has correctly guessed the chain of events and yes I have several shots of the drama as it unfolded so I could show you the whole narrative, but where’s the fun in that? I’m loathe to say precisely what happened other than to confirm that the lampost did not fall down of it owns volition. I like this shot so much because of its ambiguity. Much street photography can be very explicit but I like people to spend as much time as possible trying to work out of a very human puzzle. I was obviously thrilled that the guy’s girlfirend in a pretty blue dress came to his aid and that too red-clad cyclists were lurking ominously in the background. Needless to say, I have a hard job convincing anyone that this was set-up. Pure mindless reaction and getting my glass out of my hand so I could focus properly was the key here.”
More of these fantastic stories behind the image over on B (here).
Photographer Jonathan Blaustein who recently told us about Review Santa Fe attended LOOKbetween photo festival next:
I set out for the LOOKbetween photo festival from Taos, New Mexico last Wednesday. As some of you know, I participated in Review Santa Fe the week before. It took 13 hours to get to New York, where I was planning to catch a bus that LOOK had chartered. I spent Thursday running around the City in meetings, and going to some openings in Chelsea as well. (Jesse Burke’s show at Clampart is killer, BTW.)
Friday, the bus embarked from Penn Station just after 9am, and didn’t arrive at the Deep Rock farm outside Charlottesville, Virginia until 6:30 pm. I tell you this at the outset for a very important reason: I was practically a zombie by the time the festival began. The rest of this piece ought to be read with that perspective in mind. If you want a more structured account of the who’s and what’s, I’ve seen some good reports filed by PDN on their blog.
That said, I had a fantastic experience at the farm, and spent a concentrated period of time that likely won’t be duplicated. The setting for LOOKbetween was like something out of a Southern Romance novel; rolling green hills, crystalline ponds, braying donkeys, ribbitting frogs, strumming banjos, and a humidity level that would induce a full sweat in seconds. I didn’t have any sweet tea over the weekend, but short of that, the South represented for sure.
As we arrived, we were directed to set up our tents on a lush field overlooking the rest of the farm. I didn’t count, but there must have been 60 or 70 tents filled with photographers from different backgrounds and countries. We were provided with all the tasty food, cold water, and nourishing booze that anyone could want, all weekend long. And outdoor showers and washing stations were conveniently located as well.
After we struck camp, a cocktail hour and dinner buffet were served, which provided people the opportunity to meet, greet, and get a solid meal before the evening’s activities. A short orientation gave us the lay of the land, and then after dinner the evening’s program was a slate of 3 minute multi-media slideshows (or short films) that each attending photographer made just for the event. Prior to the projector rolling, a spokesman from the medical supply company BD gave a presentation on how his company uses photojournalism to deliver its message on Global Health in the Third World. Unlike Review Santa Fe, where the photographer’s tuition pays for the event, LOOKbetween had corporate sponsorship from BD, as well as Leica, National Geographic and a few others. The messaging was appropriate and understated, but made for a slightly different atmosphere.
Sitting on a green hill, watching the stars emerge as one smart project after another rolled along; it was brilliant. Story after story provided a glimpse into a different issue or part of the world. I went with a more experimental style and vision, and had to accept that my project did not really stand out. C’est la vie. Overall, the most successful pieces were the one’s that used either HD video or voice-over narration to engage the viewer. Christopher Capozziello‘s project on his twin brother’s cerebral palsy was visceral due to the narration; Erika Larsen‘s HD short film of reindeer culture in Scandinavia was riveting. Dima Gavrysh’s photos taken while embedded in Afghanistan were probably the best I saw in a more traditional slideshow format.
After 40 pieces or so, we broke for the night and headed back to camp for a huge bonfire and some serious drinking and talking. My friend Susan Worsham, (whom I know primarily through FB,) and I talked about our art process and motivation for almost 3 hours. It was inspiring, motivating, and unique. Deep conversations, as opposed to token schmoozing, were the highlight of LOOKbetween for me. I trekked across the country for dialogue, and the festival delivered. Sleep was tough to find, given that many of the younger photographers were yelling and screaming outside the tents until dawn. I would have been annoyed, but I was quite the lout in my college years, and karma is a bitch sometimes.
Saturday, after breakfast, LOOKbetween organized some specific round table discussions and a full-panel-talk after lunch. This was definitely the weak spot of the weekend for me. Certainly, my tired brain made me less inclined to share, but many of my art colleagues concurred that the structure was geared almost exclusively towards the editorial and journalistic photographers. After trying initially to participate, I became more disengaged by the minute. Several of my colleagues actually skipped out on the afternoon activities, and I stuck around in body only. The efforts to create conversation around serious issues were sincere, but no attempt was made to bridge the gap between how fine artists use photography relative to commissioned work. In fairness, I did find the dialogue about collective and collaborative action by Luceo to be beneficial, and the photographers who embraced rather than resented video found themselves talking a lot. And people were listening.
Saturday night was another slate of projections, and again the ones that used video wisely were well appreciated. The evening’s work was heavy on Third World photojournalism, which began to seem highly repetitive. And repetitive. It was a sticking point for me between the worlds of art and journalism, in that art photographers are trained to try to make original images and many journalists seem to stick to a template. I’m not suggesting the art model is superior, as it often produces meaningless self-indulgence, while journalists seem driven by a sense of mission and obligation. But the gap existed nonetheless.
My favorite of the night, and overall for that matter, was by the aforementioned Virginia photographer Susan Worsham. While I tried something new and improvisational, and perhaps failed, Susan made her first video just for the occasion and crushed it. She’s known for her sharp, lyrical portraits and still lives from her project “Some Fox Trails in Virginia.” She was the only photographer to split the screen, using two parallel square boxes with white, negative space surrounding. Susan paired photos on one side with video on the other, and narration over the top. It was magical.
The end of the evening was another bonfire, this time with fire-dancers and music. Kind of hippie, yes, but as I live in Taos, I can dig it. I spent another few hours talking about art and exploitation with the witty, naughty, and highly intelligent British photographers Ben Roberts and Hin Chua. They were frustrated by the work they saw that seemed to USE subjects in order to advance a message. I won’t name names here, but I enjoyed the chance to talk seriously about where boundaries ought to be respected, as opposed to broken. (I’d discussed a similar theme on the bus ride down about Nina Berman’s photographs from the Whitney Biennial.)
Sunday was breakfast and coffee, and then back on the bus. 8 ½ hours up I-95 was a tough slog. (I cheated and jumped off in Jersey.) But given that bonds had already developed, I was able to talk about art and business practice with super-savvy New York photographer Justine Reyes, and Syracuse MFA student Rose Marie Cromwell. So even rubbernecking traffic provided a chance to learn and laugh. (Road giddy is a particular kind of thing.)
Was it worth the hassle of getting from Taos to Virginia via NYC? Absolutely. Would I go back again if invited? Unquestionably. Do I think that the organizers will pay a bit more attention next time to synthesizing the different communities? I do. Was it strange to see cliques develop like high school? Surely. Did it matter in the end that I didn’t get to meet that many people? No, because I haven’t had the chance to mix it up with talented peers since I got out of graduate school in 2004. So thank you, LOOKbetween. I appreciate your hospitality, generosity, and good intentions.
Former Art Buyers and current photography consultants Amanda Sosa Stone and Suzanne Sease have agreed to take anonymous questions from photographers and not only give their expert advice but put it out to a wide range of photographers, reps and art buyers to gather a variety of opinions. The goal with this column is to solicit honest questions and answers through anonymity.
QUESTION:
I wanted to ask you about a common thing I have been asked by my larger clients. They are asking for buyouts on many images, which can be good, however I am not sure what to charge that is fair and still keep them as a client.
I know it’s a delicate balance, I can say that they are large corporations, and some are smaller companies that have a license on different products. I think I lost work because some clients can only afford to pay for photography and retouching fees, yet they want a bunch of end uses: internet, Direct Mailers, Promotional items and in store imagery.
I have no idea how to keep them as a client, and get paid fairly, yet not have them totally take advantage of me.
It is a constant effort to educate my clients about image usage, some are great about it and ask permission while others I find out that they run my images in ads when I find them in magazines. Then I have to have a dialogue, invoice them. Kinda awkward but they still send me work.
If it helps I am in NYC. I do not have a rep, I am solo freelance still life/editorial studio.
Amanda and Suzanne: There is not ONE equation you can apply for every client – but we hope you can find YOUR equation that works for you. If you can be guided by the answers below, evaluate the project as a whole that is being requested to estimate and find your comfort zone to estimate the request confidently. If our community can feel comfortable doing this, we know it will raise the bar for everyone.
ANSWERS:
ART PRODUCER #1
This a always a hot topic for discussion in my world. Most of my clients want this buyout option. However, in hoping that I don’t seem like a word/usage snob, I like to educate my clients that what this means to them really is an exclusive, unlimited in perpetuity buy. The photographer is never going to completely give up their rights to any images and should be able to use this on their website or for any promotional use. I will also say that I’ve had to refer clients to our signed estimate and what the usage terms really mean when I’ve gotten calls from clients asking me to call the photographer and request that their image be removed from their website/promo material. Yes, this really has happened. Usage terms can really be a huge deal, especially when national exposure is involved. It’s hard to give a specific number to use as a guide for this sort of buy just because for me, it’s usually evaluated on an individual basis. Just keep in mind that not giving this use away for free (or a lower than market value dollar amount) may cost you business, but it also may cost you future business from other clients. So think about this when negotiating costs for this extended use. I want to know for whom a photographer has shot (and will research this) before getting them involved in a project (so that I don’t walk into any surprises with my creative team or client), and may not think of them as an option if they have shot a campaign for a competitor. I can combat this if the campaign images are no longer active.
It’s all kind of crazy in my mind though and I know I’m preaching to the choir when I say that I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone use an image for more than 5 years. (And that’s stretching it.) Even with an image library, it would most likely be re-done after 5 years so existing work doesn’t look dated. We all know that 2 years is probably plenty. Whenever I’m asked to work off a “buyout” or exclusive, unlimited in perpetuity buy, I always get two additional usage options (outside of the unlimited use, if the photographer will even sell those rights) that are closer to what the client is actually going to use them for. One usually spot on with the proposed media/campaign element plan and another a little larger to allow the client some flexibility so that they don’t feel so boxed in.
ART PRODUCER #2
Sadly, we’ve lost years of client education with the reduction in the number of seasoned art buyers. Art buyers were often the first to go in the layoffs. Now people doing the art buying are folks that haven’t got a clue about the ins and outs of fair compensation.
Don’t shoot the messenger, but from what I’ve heard from local photographers, the clients they are working with that even ask about a “buyout” don’t want to pay anything additionally for them. Despite the “renting not owning” argument, with pinched budgets, clients have a hard time understanding that they paid for all the inputs but do not have all rights to do what they wish with the images. These photographers have tried everything to educate the clients, but with the market the way it is, the client will have no problem finding someone to shoot it without charging additional usage.
That said, I urge photographers as a group to consider what now constitutes “ownership” now that 100% of the time, images are retouched/enhanced/completely recreated by digital artists. Who truly “owns” the final work? I would hope that the art director also had input into the creation of the image with their layout and with their direction. Isn’t it more of a collaboration now than ever before?
ART PRODUCER #3
First, if you’re finding your images somewhere they shouldn’t be, there is no awkward situation- they need to pay you and they know it. If it happens on a regular basis, after educating them, they are not as good a client as you think.
Now, you’re right, most clients don’t know the difference between buyout and 3 months internet use. They only see photography of their product. And with today’s economy, they want to get as much mileage as possible out of that image. The main question you have to ask yourself is, “will I be able to use this image for any other client/purpose?” If it’s a specific product and/or client specific image, the fee should be easy to swallow for your client considering the outside use will be limited. As the image gets more ambiguous, you need to determine what other realistic possible uses there are for it. Like the blue book value of a car, the more options you add, the more expensive the car. It should also be handled per client. Larger corporations would pay more then mom and pop shops. But standardize it for each client (a still life image on silo is $xxx.xx, a still life in the environment is $xxxx.xx, a lifestyle is $xxxxx.xx)
PHOTOGRAPHER:
For my larger national clients that make it a requirement to “own” the images, I have this in my contract:
“unlimited time and usage for Worldwide distribution. Photographer retains promotional rights with permission and copyright. No third party rights granted.”
To Summarize: A term we like to use is “Unlimited Use in Perpetuity” if they request a BUYOUT…and be sure to add as noted above “Photographer retains promotional rights with permission and copyright. No third party rights granted.” The simple equation is: what are they asking for + what is the industry standard usage they are asking for – what is their realistic budget = what are you willing to shoot this for without walking away from this project and losing this client.
Call To Action: Figure out what you are comfortable with asking for and if you can’t find that comfort zone, ask your peers for support on forming this structure for yourself and your business.
If you want more insight from Amanda and Suzanne you can contact them directly (here and here) or tune in once a week or so for more of “Ask Anything.” Amanda and Suzanne review your comments for 2 days, and then they are off researching next week’s question.
I missed the premiere of this new Bravo show on photographers Markus Klinko and Indrani last night but if this review and these cringe worthy clips are any indication I don’t think I’ll be watching any of it.
Markus Klinko, the celebrity photographer who is one of its two stars, comes across as so genuinely appalling that he becomes appealing. The best actor would have a hard time faking such consistent neediness and narcissism. His partner and former girlfriend, Indrani, wins us over by exhibiting superhuman amounts of patience in dealing with him.
As long as viewers don’t ask themselves if they have anything better to do, they should have fun watching.
Markus is a skinny, very blond child-man who defers all adult decisions to Indrani and then second-guesses her choices. Though he’s extraordinarily fussy, he’s less a control freak than an out-of-control freak.
Indrani occasionally fights back but generally lets him get away with murder. Since she’s a former model, her equanimity is astonishing.
after losing 21% of their print ad revenue last year, U.S. consumer magazines will see print ad revenue dip 7% this year, 3.5% next year and 1.1% in 2012 before increasing 0.6% in 2013
via MediaWorks.
I was wondering if you might do a bit on collecting from publishers and agencies that aren’t paying. I’m having this problem now and it’s looking like diplomacy is failing. What are the options for photographers when it comes to collections and legal action?
This seems like a timely question from one of my readers. I know things have changed drastically in the accounts payable department at magazines and advertising agencies, so I will let my readers answer this one. I will only say that legal action was fine by me because it gave me something to give to the CFO that would instantly expedite payment. Not sure if that’s still the case.
I recall tackling this subject several years ago and a photographer left a comment about a nice simple procedure for sending overdue invoices to collections. Lets hear what you got.
David Schwimmer: This was my first cover for EW. I inherited the shoot from the previous regime. There were a lot of color choices and then this one, and since it was my first week, I figured I might as well cash in my honeymoon voucher for one free cover that would never run if it wasn’t my first week. Everyone looked at me and said, “Black and white period picture? Well, I guess he knows what he’s doing.” Worst selling cover of the year. So what. I thought it was cool. Still do.
Cameron Diaz and Ewan McGregor: If you ever wanted a recipe for a cover that won’t sell, this is it. A movie you’ve never heard of, an unrecognizable Ewan McGregor and Cameron Diaz acting out some sort of bondage fantasy in what appears to be a men’s room shower stall, AND the death of John Denver. It practically sells itself!
–EW’s third design director, John Korpics
via SPD.ORG – Grids.
I like this guest post over on The Photoletariat by music photographer Jacob Blickenstaff.
Shooting Coldplay or Jay-Z means you are a big deal, right?
The guitar jumpshot. The close up of a singer wailing into a microphone. The moody back-lit guitar shot filled colored light and smoke machine fog. This is what makes good music images, right?
Music Photographer = Music Fan + Camera?
These questions and more answered (here).
Jen Bekman is selling the Sam Abell cowboy picture, that was originally shot for Marlboro cigarette advertisements, as part of her 20 x 200 project (here). Compared to the prices Richard Prince’s prints fetch (millions) these seem quite reasonable at $20 for the small and $1000 for the large. And, hey none of these snobby art world small editions either, there’s 730 total available in all the different sizes. Incidentally the photographer/artist on this run is Greg Allen. He’s got a post up (here) explaining his actions where he states:
I have no claim on the image, or the idea, or the technical skill of making them, and yet I feel incredibly proud of these prints, which are these beautiful, physical things.
Of course I’m writing this all tongue-in-cheek because it seems sort of absurd and dangerous for someone who sells photography for a living (Jen) to endorse printing and selling jpg’s you found on the internet (say, the 20×200 website). Then again I’ve heard a few photographers comment that they’d like to get back at Prince by reselling what he’s selling. So, there you have it.
Here’s Sam talking about Richard Prince from a PDN interview:
If you bought your kid legos hoping he/she would choose engineering over photography this is where you go oh, crap.
Originals here, via Kottke.org
Fine Art Photographer Jonathan Blaustein, a participant in this year’s Review Santa Fe gives us his take on the event:
I’ve found that many people who’ve never attended a Portfolio Review are a bit skeptical about paying money for access, while most photographers who’ve been to one are fans of the process. I used to be in the former category, and am now squarely in the latter, having attended Review Santa Fe for the first time in 2009. I was invited back this year when my project “The Value of a Dollar,” was chosen for Honorable Mention in the 2010 CENTER Project Competition. (CENTER is the organization that runs RSF.)
I’ve heard great things about photolucida in Portland, FotoFest in Houston, and Photo Nola in New Orleans, but I can definitely say that Review Santa Fe has it all figured out. Laura Pressley, the Executive Director, runs a tight ship, and works hard to create a seamless event structure for the photographers and reviewers. The schedule is packed, yet things run smoothly, and her entire staff is laid-back and diligent.
The event began Thursday afternoon at the Hilton Hotel with a brief photographer’s orientation, followed by an opening night party. This year, the shindig was held at the Zane Bennett Gallery in Santa Fe’s trendy Railyard District. Both photographers and reviewers mingled together over wine and snacks, and I think it helped break the ice quickly. Most reviewers were happy to talk to photographers in social settings throughout the event.
Friday, each photographer had three 20-minute meetings scheduled over the course of the morning and afternoon. That left six for Saturday, totaling nine in all. I found all but one of my reviewers to be supportive and engaging. RSF employs a web-based lottery system to determine a photographer’s schedule, and I received seven of my top eight choices. (Together, my slate contained a cross-section of dealers, curators, publishers, and photo editors.) I was particularly impressed with publisher Dewi Lewis, gallerist Debra Klomp Ching, and photo editor Josh Haner, as each was very positive about my work, but also managed to give highly specific, expert criticism about how to move it forward. (Jamie Wellford from Newsweek was the most friendly and approachable.)
For Friday night, CENTER scheduled a Portfolio Walk open to the public that was hot, crowded, and very tiring. Few photographers ever get a chance to talk one-on-one with their audience, though, so it was worthwhile. Most reviewers were gracious enough to walk around the room for hours, chatting up photographers who weren’t on their schedule. I had in-depth conversations with Kevin Miller from the Southeast Museum of Photography, Ann Pallesen from PCNW in Seattle, George Thompson from the Center for American Places in Chicago, and Amani Olu from the Humble Arts Foundation in NYC.
Saturday night, after the official reviews were done, CENTER hosted a packed party with a cash bar & some light snacks. They also offered a raffle for limited edition prints from the contest winners, and other gifts as well. (It got a little rowdy.) Along with fostering community, collecting each other’s work seemed to be a theme for this year’s event, as a print trade between the photographers was also offered. After CENTER’s party wound down, David Bram of Fraction Magazine and über-consultant Mary Virginia Swanson both held after-parties for the out-of-towners, open to all.
By that point, things were more casual, the beer was flowing, and it didn’t feel like work for a few hours. I had a few pints and laughed my ass off well into the night. (Speaking of which, someone needs to follow photographer Hollis Bennett around the world with a 5D Mark II. Seriously. Sundance will beckon.)
Sunday morning, RSF wound down with a complimentary brunch at the New Mexico Museum of Art. Katherine Ware and Laura Addison, two curators from the Museum, were working behind the catering table, serving bagels and cream cheese on an 87˚day. It was a bit surreal, but then again I was barely functional by that point. I think my vocabulary had shrunk by half.
Overall, the event is both grueling and exhilarating. It is hard to talk about oneself for days on end without getting sick of the sound of one’s own voice. So listening to others becomes a vital strategy. Pitching gets old fast, but as this year’s festival was the most international to date, it was easy to engage with smart, talented people from around the planet. In fact, I think it’s the key to success at RSF, and reviews in general. If you go to meet people, build relationships, community and a network, you can’t go wrong. And looking at what everyone else is working on is inspiring.
As such, RSF had a dedicated room for the photographers to peruse each other’s portfolios. I saw a lot of amazing work across a broad spectrum. I was particularly taken with David Rochkind’s project on the Drug War in Mexico, Alix Smith’s hyper-real “States of Union” series, journalist Daniel Beltra’s aerial photos of Global Warming disasters, and Jody Ake‘s wet-plate collodion portraits.
As CENTER is a non-profit, the $695/$745 fee (member/non-member) goes directly towards putting on the event. So ultimately, it’s necessary just for the Review to exist. But it ends up seeming like a small price to pay for all you get, as the 20-minute review sessions are just one part of a much larger experience.
To be blunt, I don’t think I’d recommend Review Santa Fe to anyone who isn’t confident in his or her work, and strong of mind. It’s difficult to stay sharp in such an intense environment, as criticism becomes harder to take when you’re worn down. So the event isn’t designed for beginners, which is probably why it’s juried. But for photographic artists, editorial photographers & photojournalists who are further established in the profession and comfortable working under pressure, it’s a potentially career-altering event.
“He knew everything there was to know about literature, except how to enjoy it.”
-“Catch-22” by Joseph Heller via Ad Aged
“Photographers have to accept their responsibilities. You can’t put your images on Twitter and not expect them to be taken up by others,”
-Jean-François Leroy, co-founder of the world’s largest photojournalism festival
Here’s another entry from my series on photographers talking about how they made the break to go pro. I thought you might enjoy hearing about Kevin Arnold because his transition was from writer to photographer so he’s got an interesting perspective on the whole thing. I met Kevin when I was working at Men’s Journal where despite the fact that I rarely allowed writers to shoot stories I made an exception for him because he totally got it.
I asked Kevin to take us down his path as a writer and talk about where photographer entered the picture then how he found his groove and what steps made this a viable career for him. Here’s the story:
My interest in photography began when I was studying philosophy at the University of British Columbia. At the time, I was heavily involved in climbing and was going on a lot of mountaineering expeditions to South America, the North Cascades, and the Canadian Rockies. For me, these trips were as much about the beautiful places we would travel through to get to the climbing, as the climbing itself. In Peru, for example, we hiked for days to get to remote mountain ranges. The people and landscapes we passed through on the way were stunning and unusual because there was no real reason to go there unless you were on your way somewhere else. At the time, I was reading a lot of outdoor and climbing publications, and I was inspired by the imagery and stories. I was inspired to bring back my own images and words, so I weaseled my way into getting a few stories and photos published. Luckily, there was a local magazine in Vancouver called Coast that was desperate for content. I used them to hone my craft and gather tear sheets, and eventually started writing for larger national publications in Canada.
I had absolutely no training in photography, but people seemed to respond to my images and they were good enough to convince a few editors to hire me as a writer and shooter. I did this fairly extensively for the travel section of the Globe and Mail, Canada’s national newspaper. My focus, though was on creating a career as a writer and editor. To be honest, I had no exposure to professional photographers and I never really considered it as a career option. When I think back, I’m not even sure why. I obviously had a general awareness that people shot for Nat Geo and for the climbing magazines that I read, but it just never occurred to that it would be a viable career option. I suppose I was good at writing and had some training in it, and therefore it was the obvious path. Anyway, I eventually became the editor of Coast when it expanded to become a national magazine, and I went on to at-large editing positions at other magazines, including Explore and Adbusters.
At some point, I was offered an editing position at a large national magazine in the US. This should have been the pinnacle for someone looking for a career in outdoor publishing. But it wasn’t. It was then that I realized that I didn’t get into the field to sit at a desk while all the freelancers reported back to me on the amazing trips they were assigned to do. So I broke free and began freelancing full time. I started to get sent on better trips for bigger magazines in Canada and the US. I still had a keen interest in photography, but was focusing my career on the written word.
When I did travel on assignment, I almost always traveled with photographers and I started to meet a lot of pro shooters. This is when the door opened for me to photography. I wanted to do what these guys were doing. It was more compelling for me. Plus, to be honest, their job paid better and seemed a lot more fun. During the trip, they were able to be physically more active because they were out getting images, rather than doing interviews. And after the trip, they would head home, edit the images, send them off, and then start on the next project. Meanwhile, I would have weeks of writing work ahead of me when I got home. I’m a decent writer and I believe strongly in the power of the (well) written word, but writing itself never came easy for me. Writing on deadline was torturous for me. Shooting, on the other hand, was pure joy. I’m a very visual person and shooting came very naturally to me, unlike writing. I was always shooting on my trips when I had spare time – which in retrospect I can imagine only drove photographers nuts. But eventually a couple of guys, Tyler Stableford and Steve Casimiro, looked at what I was shooting and encouraged me to pursue it. Traveling with these guys also made me realize how much I wanted to be doing their job rather than mine
This was 2004, and I decided to develop a plan to make a transition from writing to shooting. I knew I couldn’t just jump into photography and abandon writing, because I had to still pay the bills. More importantly, I knew that my writing and editing gigs open a lot of doors for me that would help fast-track my photography career. At this point, I had a lot of great contacts in various editorial departments, and I was also invited on a lot of press trips to test various outdoor gear (this is one of the things I wrote about). Between assignments and these trips, I was able to travel to unusual places like Iceland, New Zealand and the Canary Island on someone else’s dime. Places I would have never been able to afford on my own. I would always make sure I had a few extra days to focus on shooting once I finished my assignment, and in this way I developed a portfolio of travel and outdoor images. When I was home, I started taking night classes to learn about lighting and some of the technical sides of shooting. Eventually, I managed to start getting assignments from national magazines to write and shoot stories (e.g. Men’s Journal, etc).
It’s funny because once I got to this level, my background as a writer actually started to work against me. One of the most challenging things for young photographers is figuring out the business side of things. How to get your images in front of the right people. How to bring back the right mix of images that a magazine editor needs to run the story. These are hard lessons to figure out, and being on the inside as a writer and editor gave me a huge lead. I was traveling a lot and meeting a lot of photo editors. But on the flip side, I was also pigeonholed. Photo editors don’t like hire writers to shoot and vice versa. It’s very territorial. I found that people assumed that if I could write, then I couldn’t also be a good photographer. To be fair, it is very difficult to do both well on the same trip, and it is also rare to find people who do both well. Writers and photographers are also paid differently – photogs in general make quite a bit more – and I found that the different departments, especially photo departments, needed to justify this. So, while I was assuming the would be happy to save money by having the same person do both, this wasn’t always the case. I think a lot of photo editors didn’t want to go down that road because they didn’t want their publishers to then start pressuring them to hire writer/photographers for the precise reason that there aren’t very many who are good.
Overall, it was frustrating for me to come against that wall after such a great start. I eventually started separating the two crafts, pitching stories as a writer or as a photographer. I also started to focus my shooting more on commercial photography. I did this for a couple of reasons: the more I learned about the business of photography, the more I realized that the money is better in commercial work and there is greater freedom to go with those budgets. I still really enjoyed editorial photography, but I figured that if I could make more from commercial work, then I could pick and choose my editorial projects based on interest rather than financial need.
I believe strongly in the value of personal projects. As a commercial photographer, I get to do some great work on assignment, but the fact is that a lot of that work ends up getting watered down in terms of creativity. Even clients who appreciate good imagery have to cover their basis. They are usually spending a lot of money and need to make sure they tick off all the boxes – having the right product used by the right demographic in the right environment. In the end, the imagery can be good, but it is rarely something the pushes your creative boundaries. I find that clients will hire you to do the work you love, but they need to see it first. Convincing a potential client to shoot in a particular style or to shoot particular subjects is hard. But if they see the work and it is good, they respond.
This was certainly the case with the ski patrol project I did last year. I’d been wanting to shoot a project like that for a couple of years, but it took some time to find the right subjects and to make everything happen logistically. Eventually, I shot the project on Whistler-Blackcomb Mountain focusing on the avalanche patrollers on Blackcomb Mountain. I know a few of the guys personally, so this helped me get in the door with the people in charge. Safety is the primary concern here, and these guys aren’t exactly keen to have a photographer tagging along while they travel over dangerous avalanche-prone terrain throwing explosives. One of the things I love about this project, and one of the things that makes the imagery unique I believe, is that shooting it took a variety of skills, both technical and physical. As a photographer, of course, I had to have the technical skills to capture the images as I imaged them. But equally as important in this case were my physical abilities as a skier. Without the ability to ski and travel safely with these guys in the mountains, I just wouldn’t have been welcome. I had to actually prove my skiing and avalanche safety skills in order to get the green light from the team leaders.
A year after starting the process of getting official and unofficial permission, I ended up shooting the project just by luck during some incredible storm weather. During my first day of shooting, it has snowed heavily overnight and was still dumping furiously in the morning as the team headed out. I quickly abandoned the idea of changing lenses – doing so without getting snow in the camera was impossible. Because of the deep snow, the going was tough, so I quickly also realized that I had to travel as light as possible if I was going to keep up and be allowed back to shoot more days. I ended up doing the whole project with one lens and one camera, which was an enlightening experience after years of packing tons of gear around. Within an hour, my autofocus quit working as well, so I had to focus manually on the fly through a fogged up viewfinder. At the end of the day, I quite honestly had no idea if I had anything good. There hadn’t been time to even glance at the back of the camera for exposure, let alone content. In the end, some of the best images were from that day. I shot two more days after that, and was lucky to nail some heavy avalanche conditions both days, which meant the patrollers were working hard and doing stuff that sometimes only happens a few times a year (e.g. Heli-bombing).
In terms of marketing, that project has been a revelation. Clients and potential clients have responded incredibly well the imagery. The fact is that no one would have hired me to shoot something so raw and un-produced. Yet, almost everyone comments on how much they like the reality, the raw editorial feel of the imagery. Some clients have gone so far as to actually reference the material in designing their own upcoming shoots. It’s amazing how many times in the last six months I’ve heard people say something like, “this is exactly the type of imagery we’ve been talking about creating for our upcoming project,” or “ this is exactly the style we’ve been talking about moving towards.” It’s funny because I didn’t think about any of this when I envisioned the project. I just went out and shot it how I wanted to shoot it. Somehow that has ended up matching up with the direction that a lot of people are looking to take their outdoor imagery. I don’t know if this is just lucky timing, or if the project itself has created some of this momentum. But it is certainly interesting. In some ways, it makes planning my current personal project harder. Because once you’ve had such a strong reaction to a project, it’s hard not to let expectations come into play as you plan the next one. It’s hard to just focus on creating what I want to create again, while completely ignoring the commercial potential for the work.
If you want to speak in terms of direct results. And to be clear, I don’t think a personal project has to or even should garner any concrete results for it to be worth doing. For me, though, this project opened a lot of doors. Creatively, it is a culmination of where I’ve been taking my imagery, both commercial and personal, in that it is embodies a certain unstaged reality that I love. I think it added a uniqueness to my portfolio that wasn’t necessarily quite there yet. I’ve just signed with a rep in New York (Robert Bacall Representatives), and if you ask him, I think he would say that this project contributed to him signing me. As I mentioned, it has also garnered a lot of interest from potential clients, some of which is starting to turn into actual work. And even more directly, I ended up licensing some of the images to two companies for ad campaigns, The North Face and Gore-Tex. Both company’s products are used by the patrollers and are therefore all over the images. I certainly didn’t plan this when shooting the project (in fact, when I began planning the project a year in advance, they were wearing different uniforms). But I did show these companies the images once they started to receive a lot of attention. The fact is, the cost to license these images, while good for my business, is far lower than what it would cost to plan and produce a shoot like this. And even if you did spend the money, it would be hard, if not impossible, to create the kind of authenticity I was able to capture in this real-life scenario.
Once I started down the commercial photography road, I quickly realized that I wasn’t satisfied to just settle for local clients. A lot of Canadian photographers (I’ve worked out of Vancouver in the past and now in Whistler), tend to focus on the local market. The problem with this as I see it, and this was the same when I worked in editorial as a writer, is that our market is incredibly small compared to the US market. As a result, I’ve always focused on the larger North American market. The way I see it is that just because I live here, I don’t have to work here. Obviously, this is different for a studio photographer. I like to shoot on location, and while my back yard is beautiful – after all, this is why I live here – I get inspired by new locations. When I was writing, I actively marketed myself to North American and global publications and had good success. When I decided to focus on commercial photographer, I took the same no-borders approach. I had been shooting for a while and getting good editorial work, but I realized that to have success in the commercial photography world would require a lot more knowledge and experience than I had at the time. Knowing this I decided two things: to find a business mentor who had that experience, and to work with the same photography consultants as more established shooters.
That was two and a half years ago, and both of these things have been invaluable in getting my career to where it is today. I’d say that the most valuable “big idea” that helped me along the way was the idea that one needed a vision as a photographer. When I started to work with consultants, I had a lot of good images in my portfolio, but there was no clear vision that differentiated my work from the next outdoor shooter. Selina Maitreya, in particular, was key in helping me find my vision in the work I’d already shot. I think that one of hardest thing as a commercial photographer is to choose what images you are going to show the world. Heck, this is true even for fine art shooters. If you show everyone everything, even if all of the images are amazing, no one knows who you are or what makes your vision unique. Through many stages of editing and much talk of what inspired me, Selina really helped me hone in on what made my work unique. This not only helped me in creating a portfolio that left an impression on potential clients, but perhaps more importantly helped cement that vision in my head so that I could focus my own projects on what I wanted to be shooting. It’s a bit of a cliché, but you really do have to show people what you want to shoot, not necessarily what you have shot or can shoot (the patrol project only solidified this for me).
Since then, I have relied on my own vision to further hone my portfolio (and now my reps input also). I guess a good analogy was that at the beginning of the process I was in a round-a-bout with all kinds of avenues open to me – all kinds of avenues that interested me. Working with an outside person helped me to pick a road and say, “this is the road that is for me. The road I’m going to go down with my brand of imagery.” This isn’t to say that I don’t shoot unrelated projects, but I don’t necessarily show them to the same audience. At first, I was pretty strict about this. My commercial portfolio online was restricted to just that imagery. Now that more people know my style, I find that adding some outside projects helps keep them interested and doesn’t necessarily water down my portfolio. But to be honest, this isn’t something that I’ve methodically researched. Just a gut feeling and a reaction to various comments.
On the business side, having a mentor was equally important during that junction in my career. It’s one thing to develop a good portfolio and the production skills required for large-scale shoots, but you have to also learn how to run a business. I had to learn what financial risks were worth taking (when money is well spent on gear or marketing, and when it’s not, for example), how to quote fairly, how to price stock, and how to bring in consistent income. If you don’t nail this part, you can’t stay in business long enough to keep shooting. In the short time I’ve been doing this I’ve seen a number of photographers quit the business or fail to stay in business. And these were people who I considered well-established, people I looked up to when I started my own career.
