Mr. Meredith was the English teacher everyone loved to hate. Nerdy to the core, a little out of date, and painfully meticulous, he was the one who taught AP English in my freshman year of high school. What a way to start. His weapon of choice? The comma fault. One comma fault got you a “gift D,” as he would say. Of course referring to a D as a gift was the surest way to foster universal disdain in a class full of people hoping to make their way into top-tier schools. But he was acutely aware of that.
A month into the class, nearly everyone was failing, and if there was a way out of that hell, I’m sure we’d all have taken the ride. But there wasn’t, because back in those days, parents didn’t intervene. Then, something interesting started to happen. Right around that time, we all stopped failing. All of us, without exception. We started to get it. We could see language. We could understand sentence structure. We got punctuation.
It took me awhile to appreciate it, but now more than ever, I consider this a remarkable feat. Because I can only imagine how hard it must be to teach punctuation year in and year out to a bunch of teenagers who saw the entire pursuit as nothing more than an irritation and a barrier. Yes, his method was draconian, but in my life there are only two teachers, maybe three, to whom I feel eternally indebted, and he was one of them. And I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. He still isn’t my favorite teacher. But he was one of the most essential.
Now here’s really the thing of it. Mr. Meredith would never survive in this day and age. If parents got wind of it by way of a bunch of self-entitled students that they were failing and this prick of a teacher was the sole obstacle between them and the Ivy Leagues, he’d be sent packing. But it’s not just the kids. In fact, it’s not just the parents. It’s not even just the system. It’s that we’re so used to wanting everything easy, we forget the real value of hard. We’re so used to caring about the result, we forget the value of the process. Feeling good is more valuable than being good.
And this isn’t just about punctuation. It’s about everything. We want the portfolio and not the vision. We want the cash and not the skills. We forget the real point of it all. To learn. To be broader. To be better simply for ourselves and not what it gets us. Mr. Meredith understood something that daily living tells us to forget. It’s not about getting to the next thing. It’s about being equipped to handle the right now – today, tomorrow, and always.
I’ll fess up that I’ve hopped onto all too many a trend without thinking enough about it. I’ve been distracted. I’ve focused on the ends instead of the means. I’ve run in circles, chasing my own tail, because it was easier than looking down the road. Change is hard. Growth is harder. But whatever you do, don’t run from the hurt. Don’t avoid the pain. Don’t chase the reward. Let them come when they are due. If you keep at it, they will. We judge our own images by our best and others by their worst. It might be less fun, but you’ll get more out of it if you do it the other way around.
I’ll also fess up to the fact that there’s been some attrition. I have my comma faults. I have my run-on sentences. Sometimes, for sheer laziness. Others, because I failed to notice. But for all that, more times than not, I still hear him in my head giving me my “gift D” time and time again. And what a gift it is. Understanding something in such a simple and immediate way I can recall it without thought or pause. It’s always just there for me. That’s what learning is about.
Haven’t had as much time to post as I’d like with the season kicking in, but there are some great things coming down the pipe, so stay tuned! What do I have in store? Here are some sneak peeks for what you can expect to see. But first, don’t forget to check out my latest article on The Photo Life: The Truth about the Rockstar Economy. It’s a good one!
Coming Soon
The new Ground Glass site: Improved look. Improved interface. A better way to stay tuned
The critiques: I’ve been working on write-ups, and I’m moving along. Thanks for everyone who responded.
The Ground Glass journal: A print piece dedicated to featuring the work of talented photographers around the world.
Websites, websites, websites: After launching my own new site, I’ve discovered some great insights I’m looking forward to sharing. The results have been way beyond what I expected, and they’re principles anyone can apply.
Also, here’s a fun piece I just shot from a recent wedding. I was tickled to get to shoot it in my own neighborhood and have people I know wave at me as I walked around.
I hate the post office. I hate the hours, I hate the response time, I hate the entire thing. And if there’s one thing worse than the post office, there’s the post office in New York. It’s amazing how much of a difference one small letter can make.
“Your package is shipping by UPS.” OK. That’s fine. I can live with it. I’ve had the random incident here and there, but for the most part, they get the job done.
“Your package is shipping by USPS.” What a difference an “S” makes. I suppress the fear welling up in the pit of my stomach. I tell myself it will be alright. But the sweat beads and my skin grows cold. It’s a $1,000 order. That matters. Especially when it’s an order I’m looking forward to. I curse under my breath, and I brace myself. This is what I expect to happen:
1. The item will show up late
2. I will have no sense of control over this process
3. It will be delivered during an off hour, leaving me with a sticker on the door and forcing me to have to take a trip to actually pick the item up, which, based on prior experience, means going to the station, ringing on a bell at an unattended desk, waiting for them to find it, and sitting around watching people stand in line in misery as I do that waiting.
Woe is me. Now, I’m a sucker for mirrorless cameras. Have been since the first Olympus PEN. So I’m pretty eager to get my hands on the E-M5 making its way through the morass that is the USPS as I write this. Normally, I buy something. I wait. I don’t think about it too much. It eventually arrives. All is good.
But when I actually want something – that’s a whole different story. I sign up for the email updates. I check the box to get the text message updates. The tracking number gets a special browser window for me to refresh. Which, doesn’t work in this case, because, for whatever reason, it’s a special exception, and I have to track it through Amazon (Amazon – why have you done this to me? Did we not have a good relationship up to this point?). That means I have to keep typing in my very long and cryptic password. It’s annoying. Not that it matters. There are never any updates to be had anyway.
So this camera I order – it ships by priority last Friday. The expected delivery date is Monday. I make sure to be in the office the whole day through. No camera. OK. Fine. No biggie. I can wait a day. I’m a grown man. I come in a little early on Tuesday. The post office occasionally delivers early in the morning over here, so I figured it might be wise. Nope. Not this time. Not at 9. Not at 10. Not at 11. But by 4, I receive a text. Yes! It is out for delivery and will arrive “Today.” The clock ticks. Not by 5. Not by 6. Not at 7. For which I’m actually thankful, because they’re also known to leave packages just sitting at the door, which is not a good thing.
Day 3 hits. That’s today. Wednesday. Aha! Finally, now I can track it on USPS! Why I couldn’t yesterday, the day it was out to be delivered, I don’t know. But, alas, I couldn’t. I look at the updates for today. Apparently, it’s still out for delivery, and has been since 10:36 AM yesterday. I envision a lost delivery man wandering the streets of Brooklyn with my camera in hand. I hope he finds me. We are now 2 days late, there are no updates in sight, and I’m just stuck waiting, watching the minutes pass by. I am afraid to leave the office, because I’m sure it will be delivered at exactly the time that I do so. Will it come today? Who knows. Probably. Maybe not. Time will tell.
But this is my point. Aside from ranting a bit about what is a frustrating, if, in reality, fairly insignificant experience, I can’t help but think what it must be like for the couples out there. If I sound a little crazy over a $1K purchase, what is it like waiting for your wedding photos? A huge purchase for the most important day of your life? How eager must the couples be?
As a vendor, it’s natural to see business as business. To see it in terms of proper and normal. To see good not through the biased eyes of someone eagerly awaiting something, but through the calmer lens of the person who creates the product. And, sure, most clients will be calm and patient. But don’t you want them jumping up and down with anticipation? Don’t you want them to get a little obsessed? Imagine waiting 1 month. 6 months? What about being told it would be ready in 4 weeks after the wedding, then not seeing it for another two or three weeks? Getting an album a year after the wedding? Or hearing it shipped, only to find out it hadn’t, because you didn’t get a chance to drop off the package?
Game time is the wedding. But that’s not the measure of service. It’s just the mandatory stuff. You miss it, you don’t perform. Well, you’re screwed. And so is the client. And even at that, I’ve seen people show up late (my wedding, as a perfect case in point), I’ve seen people disappear at key moments, I’ve seen people walk out the second the coverage time was up, regardless of what is going on, and I’ve seen people shoot the day in flip-flops and a t-shirt, and I’m not talking about a destination wedding here. If that’s the wedding day, I can only imagine what the rest of the process is like. If you want to make a connection, don’t look to the big day. Do that part right. Get the pictures, treat people well, and respect the event. But look to the rest of the process. That shows the real commitment and care, and that creates the connection. Here are 5 lessons to learn from from USPS about managing your clients the right way.
1. Set up expectations properly
Project managers are outstanding at creating the proper expectations. Small business owners are not. The top pitfall? Not telling people what to expect and when to expect it. Give people accurate information and give them context for what you do. And don’t overestimate your ability. Build in a little wiggle room and over-deliver. People are much more excited to hear it takes 10 day and receive it in 8 than to hear it takes 4 days and receive it in 7. It doesn’t matter that that’s one day earlier in absolute terms. Happiness is a fluid thing. All too often, I’ve heard people talk about the benefits they conferred to their clients. Outperforming other studios. Beating various prices. But did the client even know about the other studios or the great pricing they received? If not, then you haven’t given them something to value. I didn’t even expect my camera at this particular point. If they said it would take a week to get, I’d have been fine with that. But being told it was supposed to arrive last Monday and not seeing it as of this Wednesday? Not cool.
2. Be available
Not picking up your phone? Taking a day to answer your emails? Not good. Even if you can’t get to people, let them know when you’ll get back to them. It’s a 24/7 world, and though people will be patient, they won’t if they feel like they’re being ignored. If I knew it was even possible to call USPS and that they’d do something or trace things for me, I might not bother to do so, but I’d feel empowered by that fact, and wouldn’t worry as much. Making yourself available to people doesn’t mean you’ll find yourself at the receiving end of a huge time-suck. It means that people won’t have to worry, and probably won’t even take advantage of that fact.
3. Keep people informed
People will forgive you if you’re running late. People will forgive you if you don’t hit the mark and things are stalled. As long as it’s the exception and not the rule. But not if you’re don’t keep them in the loop. No one likes being kept in the dark. It’s that feeling of being strung along. It’s an annoyance that gets under your skin. When you see “Out for delivery” 24 hours after the fact, what you really learn isn’t that USPS is keeping you updated. It’s that they’re utterly out of date.
4. Be predictable
How long will the line at the post office be if I have to pick it up? What time of day will the package come? During office hours? Before I’m in? Predictability gives comfort. Unpredictability creates tension. If you answer emails in 1 minute sometimes, 5 hours, others, and 2 days still others, there’s nothing clients can settle into. Give people the sense that they’re getting a predictable, reliable experience.
5. Show that your clients matter
This is the key to everything. Because when you add it all up, what you really get is a picture of an organization that just doesn’t care. Everything comes as too little, too late. The experience is miserable. The concern is absent. And you just feel plain bad for dealing with them. I didn’t even realize how much I dreaded USPS until I saw that Amazon chose to send it that way. But everything adds up. Every experience you have with your clients in the past, not just the quality of your images, will determine how accepting they’ll be, how happy they’ll be, and what they’re willing to forgive. Make sure to show them that they matter, and they’ll respond in kind.
Oddity isn’t always a bad thing. In fact, people will pay handsomely for it if it fits the tenor of the times. Oddity just means you’re making decisions that other people aren’t yet, whether it’s composition, toning, timing, or anything else. If it works, people catch on and catch up, and pretty soon, it becomes common sense. That ship can sail fast, because very often, it doesn’t actually mean you’re making different decisions. It just means you’re just the person willing to share what many are keeping hidden. So if you have the ideas, get them out there.
Don’t worry about it sinking the ship. You need quite a few bad ideas to really wreck a business, but indecision and inactivity will always take you down. The problem is that before common sense is common, most options appear equally valid. Only the market will tell you if what you’re doing is really going to work. The puck mouse? Seemed cool at the time. But who thought the world needed a new search engine at the time Google made its entry? There was Alta Vista, for God’s sake. And Firefox and Chrome shouldn’t exist. The battle was over when Internet Explorer killed Netscape. Remember a time when plaid shirts were considered the epitome of uncool?
In the end, It’s about keeping your eyes focused on the road. Don’t be afraid to move forward. Be afraid to stay still. The longer you’re at it, the more important it is. As you figure things out, it becomes increasingly tempting to stick to the solutions you’ve found. But the biggest benefit of experience is not those solutions. It’s the intuition you build that will kick in when you step out of your comfort zone. It’s your ability to react quickly and effectively in the face of new challenge. Don’t waste it by entrenching yourself in your past.
“You know, John Smith Photography is including an album and engagement session in that price. Can you match that?”
“What are you saying? That I’m just like John Smith? I’m so much better than that!”
That’s what we think. But it’s not what we say. What most people do is stumble through a guilt-ridden response about why they can’t offer those things, as if there were something to hide. Maybe they’ll find something to offer to compete. Sometimes, they’ll just outright cave. When we reply in the framework of the challenge, we implicitly accept its values. In this case, we’d be accepting our photography is the same as John Smith. If it weren’t, why would we even be answering this question this way?
Take challenges as an opportunity to reiterate your values by answering on your own terms. In some cases, you don’t even need to address the specifics of the question. There’s no need to talk about albums and engagement sessions if you haven’t addressed the issue that’s your differentiator – quality in this case.
Remember, what you want is for someone to see your values in a way they understand. You don’t want to adopt their values. You don’t want to want to present the values you wish they wanted. You want to translate what you bring to the table into something that means something to them. So ask yourself what your client wants. You can even ask them about what they want, if you don’t have that answer. Then see how you solve it better than anyone else, and have a real conversation about just that.
A simple point about right, wrong, and clients. By the time you start to frame issues in the words of rightness and wrongness, the odds are you’re already in the wrong. Maybe not technically. But insofar as fulfilling the purpose of your business is concerned, it’s a measure of last resort, and that’s never where you want to be.
What do I mean? Here’s an example. Suppose 15% of your clients are unclear about your file delivery process. It’s not downright awful, but it sure isn’t great. Suppose you never improve it. Then, one day, someone is finally mad enough about it to complain on a forum. Maybe because they asked you once or twice, and you innocently forgot. Maybe because there was some other thing you did, and this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Whatever – it doesn’t matter here, because being right isn’t the issue. Yet, that’s just what most people will focus on. They’ll say the terms were in the fine print of the contract. They’ll say they mentioned it a year ago. They’ll come up with something. That’s human nature.
Forget the justification. There are a thousand explanations to everything. Maybe your client is wrong. Maybe they’re a little crazy. Who knows. But you know what? No one cares. Just bottom line it. If 15% of your clients are confused, you’re 15% wrong, regardless of what happens in any specific case. That’s not a great percentage. Just improve it, because your job isn’t to be right. It’s to create happy clients. Client satisfaction keeps you in business, gets you more work, and it keeps you happy too.
When I hear language of justification, I know the game is lost. Justification and explanation are too often a distraction from solving problems. They frame the world in adversarial terms that undermine collaboration. Your value doesn’t come from troubleshooting problems. It comes from preventing them in the first place.
We live in a world rife with fear. Everyone is so concerned with protecting themselves, they forget to look at anyone else. But more times than not, if you look out for your clients, you won’t have to look out for yourself. I know that’s what I pay people for. Whether it’s a plumber, a programmer, a color corrector, or an office assistant – I want people who look out for me. Not people who explain their decisions. What could be more annoying? I want people who make things work, take responsibility, and watch for the pitfalls. And I’ll not only pay more for that, I’ll even be happy to do so.
Another example? Album up sells. There are those who get big album sales, and their clients love them for it. There are those who get big album sales, and their clients feel like they’re being taken. And the difference isn’t just about the deliverables. In fact, most of the time, it’s not all too different. It’s that some people know how to make their clients see value and feel valued. They create an environment that is friendly, pleasant, and sincere by using their experience and mistakes to constantly improve the way their business works, until it is flawless. Just as frequently, though, businesses make clients feel cheap, alone, and unimportant. Who do you want to be?
A process of care elevates your value. It’s based not on technicalities and the land of logic. It’s based in real world connection. It’s practical. It looks at what can go wrong, and it prevents it from happening. It is a process of simple things. Confirming with people. Telling people what to expect and when to expect it. It’s about using the right language. Replying quickly, seeing if there is any confusion, and making sure you’re on top of it when you see chinks in the armor. It starts by taking ownership of your problems, whether you’re right or wrong, and building from there. Because in the end, it’s a classic question. Do you want to be good, or do you want to be right?
Here’s a quick tip. Always listen whenever a client jokes about their appearance. No one is going to tell you “I’m really insecure and ugly.” But they will say things in jest, like “Can you do anything with this chin?” or “I sure hope my nose doesn’t ruin the photos!” Take these jokes dead seriously. Because they’re not saying “I know I don’t look great, so if you show this part of me, I understand.” They’re saying “Please, please, please, do not emphasize this part of me that I don’t feel good about.” If I’m worried enough about some aspect of my body to reference it in a conversation, you can pretty much double down on the fact that I don’t want to see it in a picture that preserves me for eternity.
Ever hear the story about the photographer who fired his client? It makes for great reading. After all, in the middle of the day, as work piles up, emails fail to relent, and the phone just keeps on ringing, who couldn’t use a shot of empowerment? And what could be more liberating than firing the client? We may never do it, but it’s a reminder we’re all in control of our own lives.
But as blissful the thought, remember the real takeaway. It isn’t about the act of self-assertion at the time of the firing. By that point, you’re in too deep, and it’s just a lose-lose for everybody. Maybe, you have no choice. Things happen. But if you find yourself stuck with one too many clients who won’t stop calling, who keep asking for changes, and whose names leave you in mortal fear, then it’s time to re-examine the way you’re running your business.
Finding the right people
Wanna lose 20 pounds? Easy. Stay away from food. You didn’t expect something deeper, right? But there’s truth there. And trust me. I know diets. They don’t work because of their mystical nutritional qualities. That’s just the magic bullet that sells. They work, because they give you a framework to identify and avoid detrimental behavior. Detrimental, in this case, being that which makes you gain weight. Creating that framework may be difficult. But identifying the principle is easy. Neutralize temptation. One of the easiest things you can do? If you’re on a diet, don’t stock the fridge with your favorite goodies. And if you’re not getting the clients you want? Well, it’s time to look at your diet.
You don’t get people who love to work with you by filling up your available slots with anyone who has a pulse. It’s not about getting people to sign a contract. It’s about getting the right people to sign a contract. And that makes all the difference. These are the clients who are most likely to give you the referrals you need. These are the ones who free you to be yourself. So don’t put yourself in the position of rejecting that big, fat, juicy contract that is double your normal value, but quadruple the work. Don’t make yourself say no. Create a message and process to minimize the chances of that contract ever materializing. Attract people who fit. Learn when to say no, do it early, when it’s easy, and keep people who are a poor match at bay. And be bold enough to know that your time and energy is everything. Protect it at all costs.
How to start changing
Here’s an easy dieting tip. You’ve probably heard it before. Don’t shop when you’re hungry. At one point, I lost 20 lbs just by changing that one behavior. In college, I used to always shop at midnight, right when I got the munchies. By shopping after dinner instead, I was able to shop healthy, and control temptation. My point? Cause and effect are delicate things. They are much more tenuous than people give credit for. If I’m trying not to stock the fridge with goodies, it doesn’t necessarily mean I should focus on an empty fridge. And the same goes for business. More times than not, the problems we encounter were created well before we saw the signs.
Are too many people asking for discounts? Are too many people negotiating? Are you not loving your clients? Look backwards. Look to the start. Look to everything you do. It’s likely the culprit is generality. In your words. In your targets. In your images and your curation. Because self-assertion matters. And self-assertion is an act of specificity. No one ever wants to pay a lot for something that’s meant for everyone, stands for nothing, and feels just like everything else. Generality is a slow, painful death that results in lots of clients who see you as a person who does little more than push a button. I think purgatory must look a little like running a business without ever finding a client who is a good fit.
We know voice is one side of the equation. It is part and parcel to specificity. We focus on creating images that reflect our style, and we build a brand that stands for us. Voice is knowing what you want to say. But the ability to assert yourself comes not just from knowing who you want to work with. It comes from understanding who you are meant for. And that’s the other part of the equation. The one most people forget. Because it’s not just what you want to say. It is how you say it. And you cannot know how to say it, unless you know the person hearing it. You need to understand how the world sees you and not just how you see the world.
The reality of success
We exist in a spray and pray industry. And I’m not talking about certain P mode references flying about at the moment. I’m talking about the way we communicate who we are. We throw out the link to Facebook, the link to Twitter, the rotation of our 5 favorite images in the big window on the homepage, our weekly blog posts, and our daily updates. Then, we just sit back and pray that someone will get us. Here’s the thing. They won’t. Not in the way we want. And not for most of us. We need to compel them to look. We need to create the frame for them.
There are two worlds we live in. The real world. And the rockstar world. And in the rockstar world, the prevailing view is that if you create the killer images that are outrageously good, or, maybe, just plain outrageous, they will catch fire – a viral tour de force – embedding themselves into the cultural consciousness. That’s why, if you just keep posting, posting, and posting, someone will notice. Forget it. The world is too busy, too changing, and too saturated for that.
Maybe if you truly are that rockstar, it will work. But, hey, people are getting millions playing professional basketball, too. If you want to make money, there are a hell of a lot better ways to do it than by trying to be the next Kobe Bryant. And what makes it all the worse is that even if you are the best photographer, when it comes to the union of art and commerce, there’s no guarantee that it’s going to take. Leading the next trend doesn’t just mean you’re good. It means you tap into a deep need that most people don’t even know they have yet. Steve Jobs’ most exceptional gift wasn’t his insight. It was the fact that his taste was so synonymous with public desire that following his taste could define desire. Few have that type of sensitivity.
Here’s an easier way to get somewhere. Do things for people. Yeah, that’s not real sexy. But it works. Do things for peers. Do things for clients. Don’t just do things for anyone, though. Get specific. If we can slam spray and pray for taking pictures, should we be any more generous with the way we present who we are? You don’t get specific by saying “I can do that too.” You don’t do it by changing who you are in every meeting, because you hate haring “No,” or, worse, because that gnawing fear in the back of your head is telling you that you’re not worth more. You do it by knowing that a good match – whether it be a client, a florist, or a planner – is going to be worth more than 10 bad matches. And dedicating yourself to finding those good matches.
Before guest blogging on Tim Ferris’ site, Michael Ellsberg was #1,295 on Amazon. After his guest post, he went to #45. How did he get there? By getting to know Tim Ferris. Over the course of two years. That’s specific. That’s getting to know the right people. But the result was exposure you just can’t buy. If Michael Ellsberg were a typical wedding photographer, he would have spent no time getting to know Tim Ferris, he would blast every blog in the world about his book, and he would never take the time to craft a single piece of copy that truly connected with anyone.
Applying the principles
So how do you get specific? Well, here’s how you don’t. You don’t get specific by throwing out buzzwords that no one understands except industry insiders. For example, most clients have no idea what “editorial” means. Or even “photojournalistic.” In fact, most people don’t even know how you create your black and white images. So throwing around terms and notions only a photographer would care about will get you nowhere. Specific means that those who are meant to hear it, understand it.
You also don’t get specific by treating the “about” section of your website as an obligation. Getting a good strong message out and learning to live by that in your meetings and conversations doesn’t come quick, it doesn’t come easy, and it doesn’t come without practice. You need to put in the time to make that happen. Creating strong copy with the right words shows people you get them. It shows people you care.
And, finally, you don’t get specific by showing the same pictures as everybody else. That’s not showing something meant for someone. That’s going through a checklist. People aren’t going on your site to see if you can shoot every mandatory shot that the wedding world deems appropriate. Show a dress shot if it’s amazing. If it’s not, show something else. And always show the work that represents you.
At the end of the day, it’s about getting back to that question. Who am I meant for? Or, to put it another way, who is my target audience? Great companies understand their audience. If BMW creates a race car, they talk about the way that the technology from that race car is going to make its way into all of their cars. Because their customers care about performance. But not Volvo. If Volvo built the exact same car, they’d talk about how greater control means greater safety. That’s what a brand is about. Not a tagline. Not a slogan. It is about having a purpose. And a purpose hung out to dry, is a lonely, feeble thing. Purpose is lifeless without followers, so take the time to understand your followers. And frame what you do in their terms. When you do that, they’ll find you. After all, by the time you’re meeting with people, you want to be shooting fish in a barrel. Not spear-fishing in the middle of the Atlantic.
So start asking the questions that let you figure out how to get your message across. Look at who your client really is. What language do they react to? What music do they listen to? What colors do they like? What design appeals to them? What turns them on? Turns them off? Are they ironic? Sincere? What are their aspirations? And what do they stand for? Find out what makes their lives better. And not what you think would make it better, but what they think will make it better. Because I don’t really care how awesome you think something would be for me, if I don’t think it would be awesome for me.
And, lastly, remember, this isn’t a date, and you’re not looking for a mate. It’s not a psychiatry session, and it’s not the time to purge every thought you’ve ever had into the world. It’s the time to connect. Getting you doesn’t mean they can dig into your psyche. Getting you means they love what you create and stand for. You’re looking for a client who will be thrilled with you when you do what you do in the way you know best. Whether they see you the way you want them to isn’t the issue. Let them see you in their own way, as long as that way fits the you who is being most true to yourself. Do that, and everyone goes home happy. That’s true liberation.
OK, maybe I’m beating a dead horse here, but, hey, this horse is a favorite of mine, and I think it’s a topic that’s always worth another pass around the bend. The other day, I heard (again) that vintage is dead. Apparently classic is the new vintage. Now, I can hear the collective sigh of relief accompanying the resounding cheers of a million wedding photojournalists, but, you know, I find it hard to really get behind that. Not because I’m in love with people sitting on suitcases, mind you, but because there are a lot of wedding photojournalists who can’t shoot worth a damn. Actually, there are plenty of photojournalists, period, who can’t shoot worth a damn. And knocking something down isn’t going to change that a single iota.
Now this isn’t an excoriation of everyone who can’t shoot. Hell, I’ve sucked plenty of times. I do it on a daily basis. And, you know, sometimes, I feel pretty shitty about it, but, hey, everyone sucks sometimes. Well, maybe a few Godlike figures out there don’t, but for us mere mortals, it’s gonna happen. But you get back on the horse, you try harder, you get kicked off again, you get on again, and so it goes. That’s life.
But the hubris isn’t worth it. You don’t get a free ride for endorsing a style. You don’t get bonus points for having better heroes than someone else. Maybe it sounds good on paper, but aspiring to better isn’t worth much if you always deliver worse. The value of having higher aspirations, if there is such a thing, and I’ll go on record and say that I do think there is, isn’t the pride in having it. It’s to use it to recognize when you’ve gotten kicked off the horse, so you can get back on. It’s not just a source of inspiration. It’s a baseline to keep you from deluding yourself and keeping your eyes wide open. It’s to push yourself to be better.
Now maybe it’s fun to take a respite and kick a dog while it’s down, though I really don’t think vintage is down for the count, so much as slowly releasing it’s hold. But at the end of the day, good is good, bad is bad, and that is that. It’s not your style that makes you good. It’s being good that makes you good. It might be easy to take aim at a big, fat target and say “Die, vintage, die!” But I’ve seen many a vintage shooter pull out much more nuanced and delicate a portrait than a lot of wedding photojournalists. If the party line holds true – that photojournalism is all about people – shouldn’t it be the other way around? In fact, it’s really more common that I expect to see some pretty awful portraits among wedding photojournalists than good ones. And that saddens me. Not because I think there’s an obligation to be good at portraits or still lifes. We pick and choose what we care for. But more for the very same reason that I picked on styled shoots last year. Because I see a lot of people who don’t even take the time to see if there’s some value there.
My issue with styled shoots wasn’t that people shot a bunch of pretty but rather uninspiring pictures of static objects with the occasional model stuffed in between. It was that it felt like a lot of people were getting so into it, they were forgetting the value of the human pictures and human creativity in lieu of all the pretty little details. Have some fun. Shoot what turns you on. But don’t forget about the exploration. Make life about inclusion, not exclusion.
Photography is no one thing. Portraits and still lifes are as old an expression of what photography can be as candid images of people. You don’t have to specialize in it, but as my mom used to tell me, at least try it, first. Hey, it worked for Weston. And trying doesn’t just mean snapping some shots, saying “This isn’t for me,” and running back to your comfort zone, because you couldn’t get the result you wanted. It means digging in and getting to know it.
Keep in mind, I’m not saying to take a bunch of shots you abhor. You don’t need to take the same dress shot everyone else does. You don’t have to take the same portrait everyone else does. It’s not about learning to properly duplicate a picture that makes you want to barf. It’s the very opposite. If something makes you want to barf, use that to find a way to change the message behind the picture. Let it help you find your direction. Many a great image rests on nothing more than the fact that someone is proclaiming they simply don’t give a fuck. Make it your own. Find a way to make it work. There is always a way to make it work.
But whatever you do, these are the two things I will say as I finish this up:
1. As much as some people hate pictures of suitcases (or whatever other objects photographers may set their fetishes on) and as many times as I’ve heard this comparison, those images will never be the next spot-toning. Nothing will be the next spot toning. Hell has a special place reserved for this most-wretched of techniques. And even if something is the next spot toning, I’ll give you 10:1 that suitcase shots are not that thing. Spot toning is notoriously awful not just because it was done to death, but because it was overt effect that required no skill. At least a proper suitcase shot requires some comprehension of set design, lighting, composition, and background selection. That might not sound like much, but I’ve seen enough bad shots of objects to say it’s surely something.
2. A human picture doesn’t mean a picture of a human. It means something that resonates with humans. Human perception and memory is incredibly delicate, which is why it is so difficult to appropriate the value a picture produces. It’s not difficult to appropriate the look, but copying the feeling is as much part of what is going on in the outside world as it is our reaction to it, so it’s a moving target that is anything but easy to truly replicate. So the choice to convey humanity in any given fashion can’t be reduced down to any particular style. It is a question of belief, understanding, and comprehension, and that’s the thing we all need to find on our own.
I knew this guy. He just did not look good, and he had the personality to match. Not so much ugly in character, just a little rough around the edges. Sorry to say it. But not that sorry, because he was happy, and he had exactly what he wanted. Lots of hot girls. Always. And we’d all look and wonder, and think, “How?” And, you know, this I do hate to say, but we were all a little jealous too. “There must be some secret…” Nope. The key to his success was dead obvious. You just had to watch him in action. It was a little painful. He was a little awkward. He didn’t seem to have the social graces you were supposed to have for this type of thing. But no matter. Because he just did not stop. One rejection didn’t phase him. Nor did two, or three, or four. And, you know, it’s tempting to say “Well, I just don’t want to be that person,” and, in fact, that’s exactly what I thought. And I didn’t want to be him. But truth be told, I admired his nerve, and I still do. He was fearless.
Today’s daily wisdom? Lowering prices while offering more is a little like going out with someone you don’t like and don’t find attractive. In both cases, you’re getting people to come to you by way of their desperation instead of your offerings. The better solution? Get yourself out there and pull people in. In the short term, you may need to do what you need to do. But don’t make it part of a long term strategy. Where do you think that guy wound up? In the dumps? Going nowhere? Not a chance. He is a lawyer, a business owner, and he could just as soon retire today in his forties, if he felt the urge. That’s what happens when you don’t stop.
It’s pretty much the same thing, over and over, isn’t it? There are two stories. The person who made it and the person who didn’t. And the story of the person who made it always starts the same. They are people who are driven, energized, and willing to go get out there, knock on doors, and hit it hard to get the job done. And the story of the person who didn’t? Well, we don’t hear that story usually, because it’s as common as it is commonly forgotten. But it usually starts with a few too many beers, a few too many days doing nothing, and a little too much time watching television.
We call it lazy. But I don’t believe in lazy. People are activated or they’re not. No one is destined to be less. But it happens. Because of fear. Because of things we’re told and inhibitions we have. We settle. We go for less. Meeting the person you want doesn’t start with working out, grooming yourself, looking better, and overhauling your personal worth. And neither does keeping the business going. It’s starts out with something much simpler. A tool we all have. Just a little bit of boldness, a hand to reach out, and a “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
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