The Last Polaroid

When I moved my studio recently, I finally got serious about finishing the process of downsizing  and attrition that I’d been chipping around the edges of for several years. I no longer needed the props, flats and backgrounds that I’d been carrying since the heyday of the catalog years. No further need for multiple view cameras, self-cocking lenses, boxes of gelatin filters and, what’s this…a partial box of Type 52 Polaroid. My choices during those clean-out days consisted of either listing things on eBay, donating to local photo schools or tossing stuff into the trash. I looked at the open, partial box of Polaroid, thought about how the last time I’d pulled one of those was two studios ago, and pitched it into the can. When it hit the bottom of the empty barrel, it made an ominous thud, which knocked around in my head for a while. I could feel it doing its insidious business: reminding me that you just threw out the last polaroid you’re ever going to have in your hands. In no time my head was awash with all manner of memories related to Polaroid.

Polaroid Type 52 was the proofing method that I was trained on for the proper composing and exposure of 4×5 transparency film. It was a bit of an illogical choice since it had an ASA of 400 and it was black & white; however, what it did possess were qualities not to be found in the other Polaroid varieties. With a little experience you could learn to correlate its highlight information to that of transparency film and by back-lighting it you could accurately judge the shadow detail. It had wonderful contrast and tonality, but you had to compensate for the exposure difference by using a three-stop neutral density filter, which then brought it within the range of the ASA64 Ektachrome of the day. You’d have to quickly coat the sheet with the acrid-smelling “coater” or the highlight information would begin to quickly fade. Crazy to think about now, but it worked.

We would go through Polaroids by the hundreds, with little thought of the cost. They were a means to an end, the cost of doing business, a necessary expense. “Do another ‘roid” was the default decision on most unsettled matters of composition or exposure. The metallic clack and whir, the sounds the holder made when you processed a sheet, was the comforting background noise of a busy studio. And oh, the smell of the coating solution! It was akin to the Stop Bath solution in a B+W darkroom but like nothing else in the secular world. Once I’d had a few minutes of these recollections I paused. “OK,” I said to myself, out loud, alone, in the nearly empty space, “let’s scratch this itch once and for all.”

I retrieved the pack from the trash, fingered through the remaining contents, and pulled out a sheet to inspect. Like all Polaroid materials, Type 52 had a thin pod of chemicals embedded within the layers that constituted each “sheet”. I fully expected to find it stiff and brittle, long since dried out from having lain open in a drawer for at least six years. No, it was still a bit soft and flexible to the touch. It just might work. I had one last 545 holder, the strange black metal cartridge that you needed to insert into the view camera to expose and process the film. I knew that the camera I wanted to use for this exercise was my old Toyo, and just in time too. It was my first view camera, a Toyo 45M that I had bought used for two hundred dollars thirty years ago and had just  found a buyer for that morning on eBay. I was waiting for the payment to clear before packing it up and shipping it off. I’d had a lot of mixed feelings about selling it, but I ultimately decided that it was time to move on. I was elated to realize that I could give it the proper send-off it deserved! I fished around and found my last remaining and much treasured lens, an old 8 1/4″ Goerz Dagor Gold Dot that I’d had for just as long. This was the perfect combo. The camera and the lens had been with me from my first days of being a “serious” landscape photographer, and then through all the years and permutations of my professional career. It was exciting to consider using them again.

But what to shoot? I only had a few sheets in the pack, I didn’t know if they’d be good or not and I had to ship the camera the next day. The studio was pretty bare and most of the interesting stuff was gone or packed up. A cube style bookcase, bartered out many years ago on a shoot for a furniture design company, still stood by the front entrance. I’d always propped it with an assortment of quirky collectibles and memorabilia that I loved. The whole thing was an indulgence that I knew I wouldn’t be able to justify in the new place. One of the items still remaining was an old Roseville pitcher that I’d always cherished. It too was a veteran of many past still lifes. Its austere curves framed by the minimalist lines of the cabinet were a fitting representation of my new, parred down career. It was the perfect candidate for my ceremonial “last Polaroid”. As I set up to make the exposure I realized I had a small problem. I wanted to capture the shot with the beautiful window light that was quickly fading, and even with the film’s ASA of 400 I still needed f/8 & one second and I no longer owned a cable release. I had just sold my last batch of a dozen the week before, certain that I’d never need one again. I knew I could try to very gingerly trigger the shutter with my finger but with so few sheets remaining I didn’t want to take the chance of shaking the camera. The shot would have to wait another day until I could locate a release.

My friend Sean came through with a cable release and the next morning I returned to the set determined to wrap up the ritual and ship off the camera. The first few sheets were pretty disappointing. Using a meter only established that the film was badly stale and would need all the help it could get. I had two sheets left and still hadn’t gotten a fix on what the proper exposure should be, given the dreary tones of the film and the fast-changing lighting. I interpolated my reading, took a stab at a shutter speed and figured that I’d extend the development time in an attempt to push the exposure and the contrast. I knew from experience that this was a bit of wishful thinking but it was the only option I felt I had. I pulled back the paper cover that acts as a dark slide, exposed the sheet, returned the cover and removed the holder. Just then, my phone rang. Confident that I’d gotten the shot, I took the call. When I returned, I promptly pulled out the sheet from the holder without first flipping the lever to engage the rollers, ruining the sheet. Damn! One sheet left. Back on the horse, I checked the light and repeated the whole process, careful this time to flip the lever, and as I pulled the sheet I heard that clack…whir for what I knew would be the last time. I immediately spread the last of the nearly dried out coater solution across the sheet, took a good look and one last sniff, and said goodbye to Polaroid for the last time.

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer.

His work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com

About Licensing and Third Party Use

I base my business practices on the fact that photographs are intellectual property and are to be licensed, not sold. This is consistent with Federal Copyright Law and AIA Best Practices. For most of my architectural assignment work I issue a broad and liberal usage license to my commissioning clients, as they are the ones who are taking the risks and making an assignment possible. The terms allow for most every marketing use without restriction.

If another commercial entity, such as a sub-contractor or magazine, wishes to use the photographs, then an additional license will be required. The cost of this additional licensing can be borne by the new party or by the original commissioning party. Cost sharing arrangements with multiple parties can be made but these agreements must be detailed and agreed to by all parties before the shoot.

In the case of a magazine, there is a growing trend in that industry to claim that they have no budget for photography and that a photographer who expects to be compensated for publication is greedy and/or unreasonable. This ignores 40 years of established policy and directly contradicts a magazine’s business model of charging for the value of advertising space. I am happy to intercede directly into conversations with magazines who express interest in publishing my clients’ commissioned photographs.

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer.

His work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com

Barnstorming!

While I’ve never had the pleasure of attending (or photographing) a barn raising, I did get to witness one being moved; and in quite a spectacular way. Architect Peter Woerner, had struggled to develop a plan for a client who wanted to utilize an old post and beam barn on their property. Finally he hit upon the idea of relocating it, up close and nestled in with the main house. Because of the design, and a certain huge maple tree, it needed to go UP to get there. Check out the slideshow:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer.

His work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com

Awards Competitions

A lot of what I shoot for my clients is intended in part for submission to awards competitions. This can be an important part of their marketing plan and when used effectively can add credibility and cachet to their promotions and communications.

A disturbing trend among some sponsors of these competitions is to attach over-reaching conditions to their photo release forms. Legitimate release agreements request permission from the photographer to use the submitted photographs in the awards presentation itself and for the competition’s promotions. The problem arises when some demand additional, even outrageous rights to the photography without any compensation to the photographer. Their motivation for doing this is to be able to acquire a library of photographs for their own advertising and promotions that go way beyond the awards competition. This then allows them to share or barter with these assets to gain advertising access from other “strategic partners”. The end result is that photos created for one client end up being used, without consent or compensation, by other commercial entities, sometimes by major corporations for national advertising.

In a defense strategy taken from magazines they pit the photographer against their clients by making it seem that the photographer “is being difficult” by not agreeing to these terms. A recent experience with one group had me fighting right up to the deadline for my refusal to sign an agreement that effectively gave them all the rights but left me with all the liability. The fact that so many young, inexperienced and desperate photographers are signing these agreements is telling of the times.

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer.

His work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com

Building Photographs

Here’s something I often encounter with my scouting photos. Clients will ask, “Why can’t we just use these”? Those photos, taken quickly with a good quality SLR, are little better than what they might take themselves. They see the correct subject matter and they deem it acceptable.

On a properly planned shoot we get to “build” a better photograph. The lens selection and camera position are both carefully chosen to frame the space and to set the proper perspective. The choice of whether to flatten out or exaggerate the perspective of the scene will help the narrative that each photo needs to have. The rearranging of the elements within the frame further builds the flow that the eye will be encouraged to follow. Lighting is used to enhance the depth and color, fill in the shadows, tame the highlights and further improve the visual flow. The rewards of the process are clear in the end but some simply don’t allow themselves to experience the benefit.

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer.

His work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com

Devaluing Photography

Have you seen the trends working to undervalue photography? Certainly photography, like anything else in the marketplace is subject to the basic principles of supply and demand. As photographers we suffer from the simple fact that there’s an abundance of supply and it’s increasing all the time. Meanwhile the demand, if not shrinking, has become more modest and seems indifferent to traditional assessments of quality.

Mediocre photography is becoming increasingly more acceptable because of advances in digital technology. Suddenly a huge segment of the population has been enabled to create “pretty good” photographs. Included in this segment are the people who hire photographers. Suddenly, the gap between what they can do themselves and what is available from a pro has shrunk resulting in a diminished incentive to pay for something better. Meanwhile, web based communications seems to support “good enough” standards of quality and software makes it increasingly easier to transform weak photos into acceptable or interesting ones. Combine all that with the fact that access to fast internet has made the purchase of stock photography quick and cheap, leaving us with a visual landscape strewn with poor imagery.

The result of all this is that there continues to be a significant amount of really poor photography being served up by companies who seem oblivious to how badly this serves their brand. Many companies who have committed substantial resources to advertising and marketing are often saying “we have no money for photography”. They seem to recognize the value of an investment in marketing as necessary to advance their goals but can’t see that weak and ineffective imagery devalues that investment.

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer

His work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com

Work for Hire, Copyright and the Silver Spoon

About 20 years ago when I first became interested in pursuing commercial photography, I went with a friend to see Jay Maisel speak at an event in New York City. The strength of the work and the character of the man made a strong impression on the two of us just starting out. When he concluded his presentation he closed with the following advice, “Always show your best work and never do work for hire.” That was the first time I’d heard the term and the beginning of my education about rights, usage and the copyright law. In the 20 years since, I’ve had very little contact with the “work for hire” issue and on the rare occasion when it showed up on a purchase order I’d simply cross it out or overrule it in my own paperwork and not another word was heard. I recently had an experience where I was presented a “contract” to sign that was in fact a 20-page “work for hire” agreement.

I knew it would be futile but I went ahead and wrote an impassioned letter to my contact explaining my position. I explained that a WFH agreement was intended for employees whose expenses, pensions salaries and benefits are paid for by the company, how freelancers have only their fees and the exercise of the copyright law to cover all aspects of their business expenses and income, and how Congress passed the law to protect creative professionals from the pressures of the marketplace. I felt quite good about it but it only resulted in making her feel defensive and uncomfortable and the ones in charge couldn’t have cared less.

Now that I have put a little distance between the sting of that reaction I realize that I can’t really blame them. Why should they care at all when everyone else was signing the thing without question. In the course of the last few decades we’ve learned among other things, to be eco-sensitive. We don’t throw trash out of windows or chemicals down the drain and we have generally internalized the notion that we need to preserve the world for future generations. Why then do so many of us trash our own industry and poison the waters of photography? We’re supposed to love this field and seek to nurture it through the present turmoil and on to the next generation. Is it because that being a part of the commercial marketplace means that we can suspend our ideals and do whatever it takes to get the job? What about common sense? Even a dog knows not to crap where it eats.

Sure, business dealings can be confusing, and messy, and generally contrary to all the fun things that we like about photography; but we’ve all had to quit doing things that felt good for the moment because we recognized that they had no future. Why is it that the thing so central to our livelihood would be the exception? It’s not that work for hire is inherently evil. It’s all about how you’re compensated for what you give up. Being granted copyright to your images is like being born with money and privilege. Whether it’s right or not, it’s been handed to you; and if you’re smart, you won’t abuse it and you won’t give it away. Make no mistake; this isn’t altruism, or benevolence or philanthropy we’re talking about. Giving away rights is as stupid as letting the big kid on the block talk you into giving him your allowance.

A few years back at one of the “Strictly Business” seminars one of our members commented that most photographers don’t negotiate well for the simple reason of being timid. It stung then, because it had been true of me, and it stuck because it continues to be true of many of us still. Unfortunately, one reason to be timid about claiming what is, by law, your own, is the fact (or fear) that everyone else is giving it away.

SOLUTIONS:
• Don’t be everyone else. Work to set the standards that you know are right.
• Do better work. You can get behind your principles a lot easier if it’s for something you care about.
• Get better clients. You can do that with better work and you can get to start fresh in your business dealings. Professionalism is appreciated as much as good work.
• Don’t give away anything. This is business. Your content and your copyright have value or you wouldn’t be talking in the first place.
• Don’t look back. ∞

Jim Fiora is a Connecticut based architectural and corporate location photographer. He served on the board of the CT chapter of the American Society of Media Photographers from 2001 -2011. This article was published in the ASMP Bulletin, March 2002.

Jim ‘s work can be seen @ http://www.jimfiora.com