Creative: It Must Have Everything

We need to have a talk. You know me. You know my love of print, books and all things photographically tangible. And you also know I want you to feel the same love. I know some will and some won’t. That’s to be expected, but those of you who DO have the love, or the sickness, let us have a short chat. Books are, at least in some ways, unforgiving. They teach us as much about what we don’t know as what we do. Books are a language comprised of dozens of dialects, and to be an accomplished bookmaker, one must often need to understand the nuances of said dialects.

Editing, sequencing, materials, trim size, typography, run size, pre-sales, marketing, distribution, etc., etc. It can be daunting. I prefer to self-publish, which means my range of dialect knowledge requires effort and continual education. It’s not easy. But, so what? Working hard is the price of entry. The quick, the easy, the path of least resistance, the fake it till you make it nonsense of modernity isn’t for me, nor is it for my books, at least most of the time.

I’ve said many times before, I make endless numbers of test books. Quick sketches you will never see. I also write daily. Most of what I write you will never see or read. So, working quickly to further an idea is a good thing, but when the idea is flushed out, and you think the work has been flushed out, releasing your public masterpiece requires honesty and restraint. And this is where the tough love comes in. Sorry, not sorry.

There is an entire subculture of photography books that lack good photography.

Perhaps this has always been the case, but in my experience, this has ballooned over the past decade. Now, on one hand, you could say “Well, at least these people have an option to put a book out,” and you would be correct. It’s true. Heck, I work for Blurb. But putting a book out and putting a book out to sell to the world are two different things. The subculture I’m talking about is one based in a deep appreciation for the photobook as art form. Otherwise known as “book people.” You find them in online photobook forums, at events like Paris Photo, London Photo, Los Angeles Art Book Fair, San Francisco Art Book Fair, and more.

Just this week, I’ve seen three books that had everything except the photography. The books had incredible marketing hype, incredible materials, and incredible design, but the moment I began looking at the work I realized the photographer had been caught in the game of photobooks. Make average work in a short time frame, slap a concept on it, then work like Hell on the rest of the process. No, no, and no. This needs to end. This process undermines the entire idea of photobook as art form.

Also realize, there is a bit of a photobook mafia out there. Pretentious people who write overly academic reviews that highlight the superstars of the photobook world. (Go to any event event and you will see these folks signing books.) These reviewers also adhere to tradition at all costs. Anything new is to be feared and ridiculed. These people are zero fun and mostly likely drudgery to hang out with. All reviews, including the ones I post here at Shifter, are to be taken for what they actually are. The opinion of ONE person. Nothing more.

The photobook mafia also works to support artists who once did good work but who now produce average, rapidly constructed work.

Because the artist once had well deserved fame they are now riding on the network of people who have a financial interest in seeing them continue to experience fame. Last year at Paris Photo I saw a dozen of these, well, I can’t get myself to call them books because they were so transparently bad. People who once did reality based, long-term work who suddenly are concept darlings. Signings, media, interviews, the right clothes, scarves and trendy hats, publicists, party invites, entourage moments, everything you need to appear to be good. Just void of anything remotely interesting when it comes to the actual work. (They don’t have many real friends, otherwise they would have been talked out of doing this very thing.)

If you spend more time talking about how the book was made than about the story itself, you might fall into the category I’m referring to. This happens to me quite a lot when people show their books. They talk of cost, fights with the publisher, fights with the printer, the paper they ended up using, the print quantity, their entirely unrealistic sales goals, the pressure they are under, the stress, etc. If I have to ask “What is the book about?” you are in big trouble.

You must have the work. And this is where things go sideways in the world of photography in 2024. A world trained on instant gratification. A world trained on influence. Let’s let Scarface illustrate this for us. Tony Montana :  I want what’s coming to me. Manny Ribera : Oh, well what’s coming to you? Tony Montana : The world, chico, and everything in it.Tony Montana, “I want what’s coming to me Chico, the world.” Most of us don’t deserve the world. Sorry Tony.

My word of advice is this. Take your time and get a second opinion from someone who won’t blow smoke. Someone you have no personal relationship with. Someone you need to pay. This feedback will have meaning. What you need is truth. Prepare, it might sting. But if you get “not ready yet,” then just keep working. It’s that simple. Because if you put a book out, a book you attempt to sell to strangers, and the work sucks, they won’t notice anything else. Why? They don’t care. You gotta give great work and you gotta give great story, unless you are a celebrity and then ignore everything I’ve ever said.

The only books I’ve made potentially worthy of your attention were those I made with other, more talented folks. And how many of those are for sale? None. I have self-control, no photobook ego and a history of seeing what NOT to do. Believe me, there are a myriad of other things wrong with me, just not these specific items.