Where is the producer?

In many creative roles, artists often have a sounding-board, another person who is able to look at the work they are creating and help them make sense of it, or perhaps help them iron out the rough edges.

If I were a novelist, then I would have a book editor to tell me where the story was weak, or needed more focus. if I were a song writer, I would have a producer to tell me where the song needed more structure, or perhaps to go straight to the chorus at the beginning of the song.

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I remember listening to Nile Rodgers talking about working with David Bowie on the song ‘Let’s Dance’. He said to Bowie (I paraphrase) - “the song should start by going straight into the chorus. No verse, no intro - straight into the chorus”. He was right of course, but the thing was - Bowie needed someone else to tell him that. He was too close to his own work.

So as a photographer, who do you have as your sounding board? Who helps you make sense of what you create? or helps you iron out the difficult bits?

Or even more importantly: help you iron out the bits you didn’t know needed ironing out?

I think being a sole photographer can be a difficult role. Because you have to be the judge of your own work. That, is something that is extremely difficult to do. It’s why musicians have producers, and it’s why authors have editors.

I’ve often written on this blog that I need to distance myself from my own work in order to get some kind of objectivity to it. One way I do this is by leaving any recently made images for several weeks before I review and edit them. This is because it allows me to reduce any attachment or emotional bond that I created at the time of capture. I need to be able to look at the work honestly, and being too attached to it isn’t going to give me that view. As the saying goes ‘love is blind’.

But even this is not 100% effective. The moment I begin working on anything, an emotional bond starts to form. It’s a skilled artist who can be ‘outside of their work’ while still maintain a passion and connection to it.

So you really need to have someone else to talk to, to get reviews from. Or you need to be clever enough to listen to many views of your work and decide what is valid input and what isn’t. Amateurs tend to not have enough experience to know when any advice is any good, and are often easily swayed by other’s opinions. More experienced artists tend to know what they like and want, and so tend to be better at receiving advice and knowing which parts of it ‘resonate’ for them. To me, the key to good advice is this: if you feel you have some kind of epiphany, then that is often an indication of good advice. But it’s not so clear cut, and trying to figure out where you begin and end, and where someone else’s opinion is marring your own judgement takes experience.

But let’s step back a bit again. We all need a producer, someone who is able to mentor you, without trying to enforce their own aesthetics or values upon you.

And of course mentors vary in ability, and you may also find that an amazing mentor might not suit you at all. This is quite common in the music recording world. I have read many accounts of a famous band hiring in some mega-producer, only to find out that the relationship was counter-productive. Some artists have had albums that have been delayed for years because they went through a raft of different producers until they found the right one.

Needless to say, being a photographic artist is one of the lonelier artistic endeavours. Book writers have editors, musicians often have producers. Actors have directors. We in some way, only have ourselves.

If you can find someone who you feel helps you grow at what you’re doing, then that’s great. But it can be a difficult and long road not just to find that person, but to also have the insight and maturity to look at your work with honesty.

Image Proofing.....

I’ve got the sequencing of the images completed for my next book, and the text is mostly written. We’re just working out the paper and cloth materials for the publication. Book projects always take longer than anyone would ever realise.

Here are some image proofs. I print everything to make sure it’s right before it goes for print. Often noticing things in the print that I didn’t see on screen, it’s a great sanity check. When I do notice something in the print, it’s often interesting to me to note that I can now see it on screen. But never the other way round.

When what is outside frame influences what is inside the frame

This little area of Hokkaido is rather special to me. There are many rolling hills with bunches of copse together. When I am here, I am always striving to isolate groups of the copse with maybe a few single trees around them, but it’s so hard because there are often more complex, less attractive aspects of the landscape trying to creep into the shot.

As simple as this shot may appear, it took quite some effort to do, because I was constrained by a large forest just outside the bottom area of the frame. I found I had to go higher and higher up a hill to get enough clearance, and even then, in order to completely remove the unwanted forest, I had to settle on this composition:

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Due to the large forest (just outside the bottom part of the frame) being so close to the little trees, I couldn’t give the trees enough space below them. This forced me to push the two little trees towards the edge of the frame.

At the time of capture, I remember thinking ‘this is a little unusual’, as everything in the frame of interest is really bunched down at the bottom of the frame. Can I live with it?’.

I think all you can do is make the shot, and leave the pondering for another time. And indeed, as I’ve lived with this image over the past two years I’ve grown to really enjoy it. To me, those little trees are so keen to be part of the copse. But they’re almost being pushed out of the scene.

So sometimes it’s ok to put subjects at the very edge of the frame. Sometimes it’s ok to create tension. I just think that it has to look like it was intentional. Otherwise most viewers will assume it’s a bad composition.

I don’t like to constantly look at my work and prefer to ‘let it go’ and move on to other things, but when I have some project to do (such as preparing images for inclusion in a book), then I feel this is the perfect invitation to return and review older work. I often find I feel quite differently about the images, and I must say that this particular image has grown on me over time.

Colour Temperature

I’ve been trying out a few printer papers this week. The paper on the left is a warm paper. While the paper on the right is a cool paper.

Do you notice the border around the actual images has a different colour temperature? I think the border on the left is more obvious, but the border on the right is less so. The right hand image’s border is cooler (more bluish).

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There are really always two versions of an image when you print it: what you see on your monitor without any paper profile being previewed (I’d say this is what you had originally intended while editing the work). The second version is the printed version.

With the second version, the paper we choose to print on contributes (read that as affects) the final result. If our aim is to have the paper reproduce exactly what we saw on our monitor while editing then you may set yourself up for a lot of angst and madness. We have a few reasons why our images won’t look exactly the same, but it is possible to get them close, if you’re willing to spend time on accurate colour management, good monitor profiling, and also working through loads of different papers to get one that is closest to what you intended.

I think the better option is to think of the paper choice as an artistic one. Accept that each paper brings its own character to your work, and choose a paper that allows you to bring something out in the work in a way that you like.

In my example above, the original image without paper profiling is somewhere in the middle between the warm and cooler versions shown above. I think it’s hard to make a cold image remain cold if you print it on warmer paper and you will find that some of the cooler tones are ‘smothered’ by the character of the paper. But that may be a good thing if you find that printing a cold image on a cold paper makes it look ‘too cold’.

Then there is the effort of trying to tune the original image to be more cold on a warm paper, or less warm on a cooler paper. To me, that is really a defeating point. If you want your image to be cold, chose a cold paper. Why print it on a warm paper? The warm paper is going to do everything in its power to add warmth to the image and you will have a thankless task ahead of you. You will indeed be fighting upstream against the current.

So the best approach in my view, is to choose a paper that brings along its own artistic contribution. This may mean having to demo the same image on different papers (this is where paper proofing can help), but there’s no real substitute for actually printing it to see how it comes out.

I just love printing. It is always very satisfying for me to see my work become a tangible object. Looking at my work in print form often teaches me a lot about the actual image. I often see things differently, notice something in print that isn’t so obvious on the monitor, and yet when I review the monitor version can now see it. Printing is like removing a veil from the work. To finally see what the image really is, and whether it’s as strong as you thought it was. But it’s also a highly personal and artistic part of photography. And one that everyone who calls themselves a photographer should do.

Video Mini-Workshops

This summer I put together two on-line mini-workshops. As much as they may appear to be quite short - only 4 hours! They have quite a lot of information in them, because there is no ‘chatter’. Each time something is said, a point is being made.

You may find the content rather dense, but that’s ok - I didn't intend for the viewers to sit right through a solid hour. Instead, I chose to record these because it will give you the chance to pause, go back, repeat, let a point sink in.

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I also chose a 4 x 1-hour video format, because there’s a lot to take in. I would suggest that each 1-hour video can do with a few repeats or pauses through a whole week, before moving on to the other videos.

I’ve had so much great feedback from the participants who joined this summer. I’m hoping to do a few more next year, but I’m taking some time away from making some more, because they were a heck of a lot of work in terms of planning the content as well as actually recording them. I’m hoping next year to do a ‘Fast Track to Photoshop’ with ‘Advanced Photoshop Techniques’ later. If I can think of a decent way to explain printing and colour management, then that will follow too.

The above mini-workshops come as zip files and the content of each mini-workshop takes up around 6 to 8 gb of free disk space.

Kiss the ground

I watched the Netflix movie ‘Kiss the ground’ last night, and it left me feeling that there’s hope for climate change.

In the film, it’s explained that tilling the fields causes soil erosion and since the 70’s we’ve lost 1/3rd of the earth’s soil this way. It eventually turns good land into desert. Analysts think we are 60 years away from losing all of it. That is 60 harvests.

It seems that soil has a way of absorbing carbon. But each year when we till it, we release carbon back into the air and also loosen the earth that the top soil can easily be washed or blown away. By not tilling it, there is a natural process at play where the land absorbs carbon and soil erosion doesn’t happen.

It is definitely worth watching this movie. Because I had been under the impression that carbon emissions could only be reduced by reducing our use of fossil fuels etc.

Man on Mars

I was just digging through my old emails this evening, and found these images.

They made me very nostalgic. In one swoop I saw the passing of my life, and also the extreme privilege I’ve had of visiting some very special places, often more than once over the past decade. I am spoilt for sure, no doubt.

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But these images also left me with a logging. I don’t just go to photograph places for the sake of making good photos. I go because I fall in love with the places. The photos are almost secondary, and right now, I’m thinking ‘when will I ever be back in my beloved Bolivia again?’.

Sorry for the bluntness, but: screw social media. Screw facebook likes. Screw Youtube channels and stars full of vacuous content. Why would you want to spend your valuable free time watching someone else tell you what they’ve experienced when you could be out there experiencing it for yourself?

Give me real life experiences any day. Let us all go out there and experience. Let us all have the joy of being out there.

I hope the virus is over soon.

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Hálendi Limited Edition Prints

Printing a book is a lot of work. Each time I go through the process of putting a new book together, there is a lot of unseen work that goes on in the background. Usually it takes about a year, in-between other work commitments to get a book ready.

Last week I spent a few days alone printing 390 limited edition prints. There are often errors and problems. Paper isn’t always perfect and I have to discard some images due to some paper malfunction or blemishes. Then there is the cropping and individual evaluation of each image to make sure there’s nothing wrong with it. And then of course, trying to make sure that when I sign / title them, I don’t screw up.

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So today has been a day of doing reprints to make up for the loss of certain prints that didn’t fit the grade. Either because they were at the tail end of a roll of paper and got damaged in some way, or perhaps there is some ‘pepper’ grain marks on the source paper.

I haven’t signed them yet. And I have to brace myself for this as it needs to be done slowly and carefully. No rushing, because that introduces errors, and that means having to go back to printing some more, and cropping all over again.

But one thing that i love about printing is seeing the work laid out on a table. AS you can see in this photograph, nine of the images are laid out in stacks, and I’m often reminded that photographs don’t come from casual days out. They happen because you need to put the work in. Some of these images go back seven years, while others were made this year. Accumulation, the act of slowly adding to one’s portfolio is the only way to build upon your own efforts.

Good work, let alone great work isn’t created causally, or in a day. It is often the result of many years of trial and error. Of cutting out the images that didn’t work, and going back many times to a place to get what you want, or to keep on exploring.

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Book production - knowing your market size

I’ve been very fortunate to have a few folks who follow me, and are very kind enough to buy my books. I am now working on book no.6. Something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Getting book no.1 off the ground always felt like a momentous thing to achieve. A dream.

There are a few things we have learned over the years of designing and printing books. I think this post today is really to cover one question I get asked a lot: “will there be a reprint, as I missed out on the last book?”. The answer is always no, and there are very strong reasons for no reprints. So I’d like to go over them. But first we need to go back to the first book I printed and discuss some of the things we learned upon first print.

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No.1 Over-personalising it

There is this common understanding in house buying that folks who buy a second home to rent out, tend to over-personalise it. They tend to get carried away and before you know it, they’ve spent so much money on the 2nd home that it almost negates the purpose of buying the 2nd home as an investment to make some additional income each month by renting it out.

The same can be true about printing your first book. Looking back, I went for the grandest format I could. It was large, it was hardback, and at first I tried to go for the best paper quality available. I even went overboard on the dust jacket which was double layered. Over the months that I worked with the printer in China, the cost of the book escalated, and before I knew it, I was wondering how I was going to break even printing it. Printing a hard back quality coffee table book is very costly. We’re talking about over 20K depending on the specification.

Since that first book, both myself and my friend Darren - who is the main designer behind the books I print, have tried to get as economical as we can. A fine balance between value for money and print quality / presentation, without there being a detriment to one or the other. It’s a hard balancing act, but we’ve learned that it’s all too easy to get obsessed with your book - particularly your first one - and go overboard on it.

No.2 Volume

When I originally began talking to a printer about my first book, I had thought that 3,000 copies would be a reasonable size of print run. My friend Neil Mclwraith who owns Beyond Words book shop assured me that ‘whatever print run you go for, you are usually left with about half of it rotting in a basement’. He was not wrong.

Even though I had revised the print run down to 1,000 copies, I found the order arrived on three full pallets and it took a whole day to move off the street and into a climate controlled room in the office I shared with friends. It took about 5 to 6 years to sell all the books. This is related to the initial question ‘will there be a reprint?’.

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No.3 Storing of books

Storing books is difficult. They need to be kept somewhere that is dry, and at a constant temperature each year. They are also bulky and very heavy. Garage will not work. The books will get damp. Attic is just as bad due to the temperature fluctuations that will happen over the years you are storing them. You need a climate controlled, damp free room, which for most people printing a book will mean some spare room in their house. And for 1,000 books, that’s an awful lot of space.

No.4 Postage costs / weight

Printing a large book can make it almost cost-prohibitive to buy, if you intend to post it. There is a 2KG limit here in the UK where prices rise considerably once you hit that limit. Most hard backs can easily be around 1.5 kg without a slipcase, and then over 2kg with the slipcase and packaging included.

This is why my book ‘Colourchrome’ was small. We had a bad reaction to the unwieldy size of the first book that we figured a small book would be easier to ship, and less troublesome too in terms of handling (book boxes are extremely heavy).

Print Run / Re-evaluating

After storing old stock for such a long time, and the problems encountered with this, plus the problems of paying for stock that you cannot sell for many years, your motivation turns from ‘over-personalised-grand-project-with-no-expense-spared’ to ‘simple-elegant-economical-small-print-size-small-production-run’, and the print run is reduced for this single reason:

Book Sales over time

Book Sales over time

The first six weeks is when most folks will buy a copy of your book upon promoting it. If you’re lucky to have a following at all, then you might sell a lot of copies in that first six weeks. But once the book has been out for more than that, interest drops off quite dramatically.

For my first book ‘Art of Adventure’, we found that by the 2nd month, there were almost no sales at all. Perhaps one or two books would sell a month, but if you consider that you sold 300 copies in the first month, and almost nothing in the 2nd month, you soon realise that it’s going to take a long time to sell the remaining 900 copies that you just stock piled in your spare room.

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What’s your market size?

So the question soon comes down to - how many people follow you, and more importantly, how many of them are willing to buy your book? That, in my view only comes over producing a number of titles. Which is where I am today.

I have discovered that I tend to have enough interest in the first month to sell around 300 copies. After that month, interest is almost zero, and sure, I will keep selling copies of the book over the coming year or two, but very very slowly.

So it soon became apparent to me that looking for a print run of 300 copies was my ‘sweet spot’. And this has been backed up by Neil who told me that most independent photographers should really opt for a print run of around 500 copies max for any book they want to get printed.

So back to the original question: will I be doing a reprint?

As you can probably see from my detailed explanation above, trying to sell an edition of a book is pretty hard to begin with if you print more than the initial interest for the first six weeks or so. So the chances of even doing a reprint of the book is very highly unlikely.



Book No.6 is now work in progress

I’ve just begun work on my next book about Hokkaido. The image sequencing and selection is now complete, and so too is the text for the book. I am hoping to have it published sometime next year.

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