It has to have everything – Shifter

We need to talk. You know me. You know my love of print, books, and all things photographically tangible. And you know I want you to feel the same love. I know some will and some won’t. That’s to be expected, but for those of you who DO have the love or the disease, let’s have a little chat. Books are, in some ways at least, unforgiving. They teach us as much about what we don’t know as they do about what we do know. Books are a language composed of dozens of dialects, and to be a skilled bookie, you often have to understand the nuances of those dialects.

Editing, sequencing, materials, format, typography, circulation, pre-sales, marketing, distribution, etc., etc. It can be daunting. I prefer to self-publish, which means my dialect knowledge requires effort and ongoing education. It’s not easy. But so what? Hard work is the price of entry. The quick, the easy, the path of least resistance, the fake it till you make it nonsense of modernity is not for me, and it’s not for my books, at least most of the time.

I’ve said before that I do endless test books. Quick sketches that you’ll never see. I also write daily. Most of what I write you’ll never see or read. So, working quickly to move an idea forward is a good thing, but once the idea has been fleshed out and you think the work is fleshed out, releasing your public masterpiece requires honesty and restraint. And here’s where tough love comes in. Sorry, not sorry.

Maybe this has always been the case, but in my experience it has increased dramatically over the last decade. Now, on the one hand, you could say “Well, at least these people have the opportunity to publish a book,” and you would be right. It is true. I even work for Blurb. But publishing a book and selling a book to the world are two different things. The subculture I am talking about is based on a deep appreciation for the photobook as an art form. Also known as “book people”. You can find them on online photobook forums, at events like Paris Photo, London Photo, Los Angeles Art Book Fair, San Francisco Art Book Fair and more.

This week I saw three books that had everything except the photography. The books had incredible marketing hype, incredible materials, and incredible design, but the moment I started looking at the work I realized that the photographer had fallen into the photobook game. Creating average work in a short period of time, slapping a concept on it, and then working like a maniac on the rest of the process. No, no, and no. This has to stop. This process undermines the whole idea of ​​photobooks as an art form.

Also realize that there is a bit of a photobook mafia out there. Pretentious people who write overly academic reviews highlighting the superstars of the photobook world. (Go to any event and you will see these people signing books.) These reviewers also adhere to tradition at all costs. Anything new is to be feared and ridiculed. These people are absolutely no fun and probably a drag to deal with. All reviews, including the ones I post here on Shifter, should be taken for what they really are. ONE person’s opinion. Nothing more.

Because the artist once had well-deserved fame, they now ride on the coattails of people who have a financial interest in their continued fame. Last year at Paris Photo I saw a dozen of these, well, I can’t bring myself to call them books because they were so transparently bad. People who once did reality-based, long-term work, now suddenly are concept darlings. Signings, media, interviews, the right clothes, scarves and trendy hats, publicists, party invitations, entourage moments, everything you need to look good. Only without anything interesting when it comes to the real thing. (They don’t have many real friends, or they would have been stopped from doing this.)

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

You have to have the work. And this is where the world of photography in 2024 goes wrong. A world trained on instant gratification. A world trained on influence. Let’s Scar face 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 advice is this. Take your time and get a second opinion from someone who isn’t blowing smokescreen. Someone you don’t have a personal relationship with. Someone you have to pay. This feedback will be meaningful. What you need is the truth. Be prepared, it may sting. But if you “not ready yet”, then just keep working. It’s that simple. Because if you put out a book, a book that you’re trying to sell to strangers, and the work sucks, they don’t notice anything different. Why? They don’t care. You have to do great work and you have to do a great story, unless you’re a celebrity and then you ignore everything I’ve ever said.

The only books I’ve ever made that might be worth your attention were the ones I made with other, more talented people. 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. Trust me, there are a lot of other things wrong with me, just not these specific items.