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A friend recently asked me for some tips on selling prints and limiting editions. I’m certainly no expert nor am I getting rich selling prints of my work. But I’ve been in and around the business for twenty years and I’ve seen various ‘business models’ in action. My friend found this information helpful, so I figured I’d share it here.
Some photographers limit their limited editions to a certain few sizes. They may limit editions to 100 - 500 prints, sizes 16x20 and 20x24 and leave 11x14 prints of the same image as an open edition. Materials can also come into play. Fiber base paper is usually used for limited editions (for B&W prints) and resin coated papers are often used for open editions. With pigment prints, materials can also play a factor: archival rag paper vs. clay coated paper.
The thing to keep in mind is how long you want an image to make money for you. Once you have printed the total number of prints in a limited edition you can't print it again in that particular size.
Limiting editions early in your sales career means images may have a shorter sales life. On the other hand, if you have an open edition of 11x14 prints of an image that becomes very popular over the course of several years, you can decide to create a 16x20 limited edition that will command a higher price per print than if the limited edition had been started earlier. It can also serve to increase the value of the open edition prints. Thus you have a longer sales life per image.
Usually, photographers limiting editions will set a price for the first 25 out of 100 prints, then raise the price per print on the next 25 prints. For example, prints 1/100 - 25/100 = X$ ea., 26/100 - 50/100 = X+X$ ea. or X+%of X, and so on. The higher the edition number the rarer the print and the higher the price. Photographers often hold back the first five prints of an addition to be sold once the rest of the edition has sold out. The five prints, #1 - #5, represent the earliest prints in the edition and can now command a higher price than the price paid for last prints of the edition.
Limiting editions is a good sales strategy, but it really only pays off once you've established a good sales record and created a demand for certain images or certain types of images. If you carefully consider print sizes and materials you can ensure a fairly long sales life for an image in a series of limited editions. Smaller sizes are usually open editions or limited to a high number of prints (1000 or more.) Larger sizes are limited to editions of fewer prints (100 to 500.)
Of course the targeted market is a big factor in making these decisions and this is where a gallery comes in. A gallery should have the information to best decide how to price work in the current market. Make sure not to short sell yourself, at the same time realize that as your work is new to the market it may not yet be able command the higher prices.
Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner
Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the fast pace of technological advancements that we forget there are many things, older technologies, that have been with us for a long time that are still valued. Of course, you and I value many of the technologies we grew up with that today seem to so many well out dated. But I'm finding that more and more younger people are placing considerable value on many older technologies. And I'm seeing this especially in the arts.
I have a few friends who teach at the various art schools here in the City. The age of the students range from 8 to 22 years old. I hear stories of how many of the students demonstrate a great enthusiasm for the learning and practice of a "process." Sometimes it's painting and drawing or working with clay or glass or metal. And sometimes it's wet photography.
Recently, a group of university students here in San Francisco fought to preserve the introductory course in black and white photography that was about to be scrapped by the administration in favor of a completely digital program. The students wanted more time in the darkroom. They expressed the desire to more deeply explore a specific creative process.
That's what photography is: a unique creative process. Traditional wet photography and digital photography are two completely different animals. The end result or "product" of these two processes may be very similar or almost identical, but the processes themselves are extremely different.
These two processes rely on two vastly different technologies. Both are valid means with which to create images. Both processes require the mastery of certain fundamentals and a dedicated creative effort to be successful. But they are different. They are valued processes and there are many people eager to master the craft and practice the art of both. And that's what it's about, the practice. It doesn't matter if it's old or new technology. It's about the practice of a process. It's through the practice that one learns and grows. That's something people will always crave: the need to learn and grow. There will always be the need to practice. That's art.
Photo: ©2008 Anna L. Conti
I recently picked up this SB-23 Speedlight from KEH for $37. It's compact, light and extremely simple. It has one switch with two positions: Manual or TTL. It's either on or off. When left on it automatically goes into Standby mode and conserves power. It uses four AA batteries and is extremely energy efficient. It works great as a source of balanced fill flash with film cameras that control flash modes like the F100, F6, and older models such as the N6006 and even on my odd-ball F601m.
I've been testing it around the house and this evening I took it with me to the beach to check out the surf and sky during a break in this monster storm that's been pounding us since early this morning. After I get my next batch of film processed I'll post some images I shot this evening.
In the meantime feel free to share my mantra:
"Gear is Good."
With all the ups and downs of this year, the distractions and sidetracks, I've managed to rally around my work in photography. So much of the time I find myself just wanting to be a hermit, not seeing or talking to anyone, forgetting everything that's happened this year and get into a space where I can remember what I was like and how I felt before I got sick. A camera and a pocket full of film helps me get there. When I'm out taking pictures I'm in a perfect world. Nothing else matters and I'm happy. Just thinking about it now makes me feel good.Being able to post my images on the web and to see how much wonderful work is being done by people all over the world is inspiring. I've connected with some new faces and old friends through Flickr, where I do most my photo posting now. I've met and become familiar with the work of photographers in Japan, Israel, Australia, Canada, The Republic of Moldova, England, France and right here in San Francisco. It's a great way to share work and explore our common creative pursuits.
Flickr also provides a means of publishing work that until recently was not available. I've been experimenting with creating short photo essays and posting them to Flickr. I put together a three part essay on our November trip to Los Angeles. Each part consists of five images with captions that create a running narrative chronicling our adventures there. I created another five image essay documenting a fire that broke out in a local cafe and the quick response of the SFFD.
I've had a tremendous amount of support from friends, near and far, and I greatly appreciate every bit of it. The support that we've received from my sister Susan and her family is truly above and beyond. Anna's brothers have helped in ways they can't imagine. But, I couldn't have managed this year at all without Anna. I owe her everything. Right now I have a month long break from clinics, doctors and needles. Things are looking pretty good; the numbers could be better, but they don't tell the whole story. I'm a very, very lucky man. And I'm looking forward to a fresh year full of pictures.
Wednesday evening a fire broke out a few doors down from where Anna and I were having dinner. We realized what was happening when we saw three engine companies and two truck companies of the San Francisco Fire Department pull up in front. We grabbed our cameras and and ran out onto sidewalk and began shooting the scene.
The Rain Tree Cafe on the corner of Irving and Eighth Avenue seemed be burning. I moved in close to the fire fighters as I had only a 35mm lens with me and Anna was able to stay back a bit with her wide to telephoto zoom. I managed to stay close but out of the way while shooting as the fire fighters broke through the front door of the cafe and put ladders up to the roof. Smoke began billowing out the front door as fire fighters moved into the cafe and attacked the source of the fire. We crossed the street a couple of times seeking different angles and views of the activity.
In no time I had run through the two rolls of film I had with me. While anna continued shooting I went half way up the block to Express Photo. Alan Dejecacion was still running the C41 processor despite the fact it was the day before Thanksgiving. The lab was closing in 30 minutes, but Alan took my film and said he'd have it ready in fifteen minutes. He quickly sold me another roll of film and I was back out shooting the mop up of what turned out to be a small grease fire. The cafe had closed early, but someone had left the grill on and in the course of a couple of hours a pot of grease sitting on the grill had begun to burn.
Thanks to Alan I was able to post a short photo essay on the fire to my Flickr page within a few hours of shooing the pictures. While we've seen the demise of most the photo labs in the City it's a relief to have Express Photo right in the neighborhood.
(Not only does Alan help keep Express Photo running, he's also a great photographer. You can see many of his documentary projects and photojournalism on his Flickr page.)
Photo: ©2007 David W. Sumner
This week Anna started a new art blog and invited me to be one of its regular contributors. Check it out. It's called Bay Area Art Quake, I posted my first entry this morning.
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Image above: Notes for review of David Seymour
exhibition at the de Young Museum.
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Recently I've taken some time away from posting here simply due to the stresses of the day job and the chemo treatments. All of that is settling out now. Anna and I are actually heading to LA for three days to scout out a few galleries.
I have been posting quite a few images to my Flickr page. There you can see some recent work and some older favorites. Next week I will be posting images from the LA trip.
Stay Tuned.
Lens selection is often an interesting topic. I've heard all kinds of suggestions on what's the best lens to use for a particular situation. The on line forums are choked with questions like "What's the best lens to use for portraits?" I find these questions a bit silly. Any "how-to" book or quick web search will tell you the most popular portrait lenses are in the range of 80mm to135mm.
(Kathy Cruver, Nikon F3, 180mm lens ©2002 David W. Sumner)
Really it's not an issue of the best or right lens. What's important is what will work within the context of your shooting style, what are you comfortable with? James Nachtwey has been quoted as saying he never uses anything longer than 50mm. HCB used a 50mm almost exclusively. Josef Koudelka for many years shot almost all his images with wide angle lenses. Then he quit using wide lenses all together. Then later he started using a panoramic camera for much of his work. So what's right?When I was shooting color landscapes in the 1980's I rarely shot with anything other than my 20mm and 180mm lenses. Today I hardly ever take my 180mm out of the closet. Currently in my bag is a 20mm, 28mm, 55mm, 135mm, and two camera bodies. Now days 95% of my images are made with the 28mm lens. I'm not fond of zoom lenses, I'd rather step closer or move to one side looking for a good perspective. But that's what works for me and I've experimented for many years to get to this point.
(Artist, Dale Erickson, Nikon F4, 28mm lens ©2006 David W. Sumner)
A friend recently asked me for some tips on selling prints and limiting editions. I’m certainly no expert nor am I getting rich selling prints of my work. But I’ve been in and around the business for twenty years and I’ve seen various ‘business models’ in action. My friend found this information helpful, so I figured I’d share it here. 
