Photography is an intimate, passionate affair. Whether it’s guiding a bride by the elbow
into position, eliciting a sultry smile from a model, brushing aside an errant hair, or
arranging a compliant body on a couch, we are engaged in an activity that
involves intimacy and trust. As a photographer, I must
connect with my client and maneuver them into a place of vulnerability,
revelation, and openness. As a theatre
director this isn’t new territory-- coaxing a powerful
performance from an actor is
an exercise in trust, intimacy, and passion, and in some cases it requires a
therapist’s touch (as an emergency crisis counselor and HIV test
counselor for several years, I understand the implications of this
statement).
There are blunt tools for understanding and creating this
relationship, but in the end it is nothing you can “learn” in a traditional
sense. The building trust is a skill you're either born with or purchase in blood. Combining
the skill of intimacy building with photography is something I am still
developing. It is, I suspect, a life-long
endeavor because not only is everyone different, but there are layers of truth
and trauma in the human experience. If
you want to excel as a portraitist-- even in the commercial world-- apply
yourself to this art and stick to the “bright” side. The relationship can be abused.
As a photographer, you’re going to do something unthinkable
at the end of your intimate relationship.
You’re going to ask to publish it.
Whether it’s in a professional publication (to which you were both paid
to contribute) or your website, you’re going to ask to air their laundry in public. The
important part of that statement is the verb, “to ask.” I always ask for permission, in the contract,
to use their images-- and give them the opportunity to veto specific
images.
Now if at this point you’re thinking, “it’s my image, I
created it, I own the copyright, I can use it as I please,” you should
understand one thing: you’re a schmuck. In all likelihood you have not taken an image
“the world must know about.” You’ve
taken, perhaps, something beautiful, perhaps something meaningful. But it’s made so by the intimacy and trust
your subject has given you. Your talent
as a shaper of light and geometry-- even as a builder of intimacy-- is secondary.
If you understand that, then you realize you should ask permission.
For this reason, I include the image rights in the fee for my
non-commercial sessions; I offer to create a book or a framed print for them (and it’s worth it,
believe me), but the images themselves are included in my session. Always.
Many photographers may be horrified by this because their real income is derived from the delivery of images-- not the taking of
them. Not me. If the images are meant for their
personal use-- spouse, parent, child, Facebook, LinkedIn, and even a wedding-- I view them as the client’s, and I frankly don’t want to be
responsible for archiving and licensing.
I also want my sessions to be affordable to a wide range of people, and
the pay-for-print model is inevitably pricey. Yes, there’s a class of client who will pay
$200 for an enlarged print or $600 for a book, but you’re a fool if you think
everyone can. It’s a luxury item
available only to the 5%. Paradoxically,
photographers who charge exorbitant amounts for their prints are often the
first to proclaim that it’s not the print but the “experience” their clients
are paying for-- a stance that makes no sense given what they charge for the print versus the session.
I believe my clients return because the session
is unique and the images spectacular.
Pricey prints, then, are simply ransom, and frankly I believe that in
the future high fees on the prints and other products will undermine business. Because Aunt Sally can “take”
a picture and their getting sharper and more professional with every new model of camera. She's provide them for free. As a professional I can compete on the value of
the “taking” an image, because Aunt Sally can't create the same experience as me. But I can't compete on the value of “providing.” The images Aunt Sallie takes
can be made into a book or a 8” x 10” print just the same as mine. They may even be as special, as intimate. So here's the short version: because I build intimacy and trust with my clients, I ask their permission to use their images. In doing so, they become the client's pictures, not mine (though I technically never relinquish copyright, only share it). At Hurricane Images
I price the value where it belongs: on the session. And I make that session into a special event-- even when it's a professional headshot for a LinkedIn profile.
So here’s my advice for non-commercial images:
> Make your session, the “taking” of pictures, as special
as possible
> Deliver stunning
images
> Make high resolution and web-ready images inclusive
with the package
Yes, top photographers can charge a king’s ransom for their
images, but they are the 5% of photographers who are dealing with the top 5% percent of earners. The rest of us have bills to pay, and never forget that is true for your clients.
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