This can be tricky. This showing your work, getting your work out, publishing your work, getting your work collected. If you don't have experience in this it can be daunting and to be honest, it is never easy. As you probably know, I am known locally but not nationally or internationally much. So I am on the same boat you are, perhaps older, maybe more experienced but believe me I haven't solved all the problems yet and assume I never will.

Let's go through a hypothetical situation. I will keep this a little vague so as to protect the innocent. You're a photographer. You make a cold call to a gallery, they agree to meet with you, you show your hot new work and some of your tried and true portfolio of your best work and there is a strong positive response from the gallery. After subsequent conversations the gallery agrees to show your work in a two person show next fall for a three week time period. As things progress a little the gallery owner says that she prefers the older black and white work you made many years ago and wants to show that. Okay. This means no one will even know about the incredible new work you feel is far better. She then tells you what size she wants them printed, how many there will be in the show and how they need to be framed. She also suggests that you print them a "little more open". When you ask who will pay for the framing you are told you will. They also lay a $350 "publicity and opening reception" charge on you and tell you they need the work one month before it is to hang and that is three states away. They assume you will come for the reception but are not willing to put you up anywhere and you know no one in the area. 

You get how this is going?

You suck it up because it is your art after all and is what you've wanted for so long. You are very excited to be in a two person show at Gallery blahblahblah where they showed Mitzi Zorblatt last year, your all time favorite and a goddess in the photo world. As the black and white prints you are showing need to be reprinted and since you now work digitally, you rent space in a community darkroom to make the prints and it takes you 6 weeks of hard work to get them right. Some of the negatives were scratched and were a nightmare to print. You take over the front room of your apartment for the trimming, matting and framing and spend another month and huge amounts of money you don't have to frame them. Finally they are done and look magnificent. You take time off from work and schlepp them the day's drive to the gallery and drop them off, driving back that night to avoid the motel cost. They've shown you where your work will be hung in the back room of the gallery. You understand as the artist whose work they will put in the front room is locally known and sort of famous. Your room seems too small to hold all the work you've brought.  A month later you are back, dressed nicely, not knowing a soul except you've met a few of the gallery staff. During the opening you stand in the back room where your work is so as to answer any questions people might have. They don't have any. Most have come for the front room artist and they all seem to be friends. Very few even bother to come in to your room to look at the work. The gallery didn't have room to show all the work you've brought even though the owner told you how many to bring and has stored the extra prints in a dirty closet with a vacuum cleaner and some cleaning supplies. The frames are scratched. You leave the opening early and go back to your motel alone. You heard some of the staff talking about dinner after the opening but you were not invited.

Driving home the next morning you do some thinking and serious soul searching about whether this is all worth it or not. You haven't sold any of your work.

And so it goes. You continue to get chipped away, eroded, the system conspires to make you a cynic when it is not in your nature.  You suck it up because you believe in the work and this is so much what you want, this getting the work seen that you tell yourself this level of abuse is perhaps necessary and that those on the top had to start somewhere and they probably got dumped on too just like you.

Don't sell yourself short, though. Hopefully you are motivated by making the work and the rest will either come or not, happen or not.  Making the work to get it shown or sold isn't where I am. I have known people like that and watched some achieve great success, whatever that means. But making the pictures works for me. I hope it works for you too as it might help to think of what happens after you make the work as a kind of  bonus, especially if it is good work.

Don't sell yourself short. Don't take too much abuse. And don't allow your work to be prostituted or you either. Know what you will and won't take, and don't be afraid to stick up for your rights in this process as there are some real shits out there. 

Another hypothetical, a shorter one. Same as before, you show your work, the gallery decides they want to handle it, they explain "representation" and tell you they don't want to take another person on unless they can represent them well and with integrity. They treat you with respect and care and never try to stick it to you or lay some hidden costs on you. They tell you how they will show you and work hard on your behalf to get people to the opening, introducing you to people that it is important for you to meet and to know. Your work looks wonderful and is very well lit. You like everyone and they seem to like you. And they "love" your work. You have a great time and sell a couple of pieces.

My kind of place. This can happen to you. Much of success is yes the quality of the work but also the attrition of others that couldn't stay in there long enough and dropped out.

Develop a thick skin and don't sell yourself short.

I have a friend who is a subscriber to this blog. He will remain nameless but I got a somewhat exasperated and brief email from him that said to give you process and thoughts on where it all comes from. He's right. 

I don't know that I can do that but I can at least tell you my background and perhaps influences on me and my work.

I think it's mainly my mom. So much of what we become comes from someone giving us permission. Not in a conscious way but in a manner that shows us a different path that someone's taken. She was brought up in St. Charles, MO; tall, loud, maybe a little coarse but loved art and was often a good painter. She loved Stravinksy, the garden at MOMA, to laugh, to drink and flirt and party, and my dad. When she married my parents moved to New Canaan, CT to raise their family. My dad worked in Manhattan. My mom's life said it was okay to lead mine differently and I have. She also instilled in me and my two sisters a love of creating  that has sustained me through a long time of making art.

My aesthetic? It's roots? In post WW II modern art sensibilities: Danish  furniture, architect houses, jazz and the modernist musicians and composers, minimalism. Picasso and Mondrian and Leonard Bernstein and My Fair Lady and/or West Side Story, top forty tunes into late night on AM next to my bed from an old radio with a creaky knob for a tuner and a faint glow from its dial, playing the piano, things mechanical like go karts, bikes, and later cars. Girls, dances, four years of boarding school in the first Shaker Community in the US, sports, girls, and, oh yes, girls.

When I got to the University of Denver as a freshmen I did the same thing as so many others: I played. I mostly skied, drove fast cars, joined a fraternity, hell, was the social chairman of my fraternity, partied. By the time I was flunking most of my courses the middle of my junior year I was enrolled in a 2D Design course that changed my life and was getting a straight A but it was too late. I was asked to leave the University.

Three months later I was a full time student in a junior art school in southern Connecticut taking courses in sculpture, drawing, painting, glass blowing and art history. And getting A's.

The rest is easy as I'd found my path. I've quoted this before but here it is again in case you missed it:

Thirty-five years ago, when the concept of being an artist for the rest of my life first dawned on me, I had little to show; no skills, little education, no ability to define what it would be like to be an artist and few mentors. But my job seemed clear: I needed to learn my chosen discipline and produce work. This I proceeded to do, learning as I went, adding a series of photographs or a group of pictures that were an idea, concept or an interest on top of a stack of others that would grow over a whole career. This program entailed life-long learning. Parts of my process would change: my understanding of the medium would grow and evolve during these years. Photography too would change; movements in contemporary art and society would affect me in obvious and subtle ways. However, the requirement was to make the best work I could, to stay active, to produce work that was both quantitatively and qualitatively as consummate as I knew then how to make it. This I’ve done. As I grew and understood more about photography as an art form, and worked to master my technique and refine my aesthetic, I became more comfortable with my place in the discipline. I no longer was aspiring to be something. I was heavily engaged in the making. Finally, I have sought, quite simply, to make a contribution to the medium of photography.

It seems a little strange to be quoting myself but I think our lives are like that, segmented into different versions of ourselves through the times we live in. The above was written in 2003 when I was applying for a promotion to full professor at Northeastern University, where I taught. And yes, I got the promotion. I was the first assistant professor of photography at Northeastern, the first tenured professor in photography and the first full professor of photography at Northeastern. You might be able to tell but I am proud of that.

So there's some background on me and  perhaps provides some insight as where I come from aesthetically.

This below from the early fifties, with my two sisters. Me with hair!

We all have cycles of creativity when ideas burst forth and times where there may be none. For me these "hills and valleys" are the cycles of creativity. The valleys happen most when I have just finished a particularly intense project, when I haven't found or been inspired by something new, where I haven't opened my eyes up to the possibility of a different way of seeing.

I think we all get locked into familiarity, doing what we've done before because it is safe, known and comfortable. No career artist wants to look like a beginner or a bungling idiot. On the other hand, we are in the business of taking risks, or we should be, of putting ourselves out on a limb to make a point or to try something new. This is our stock in trade, so to speak. 

For me, a project or a series has several phases, these "hills", meaning high points, start with an idea or a concept, then progress to first pictures that are perhaps tentative or wrong or inappropriate. Then move on to the most exciting part which is to begin to make pictures that do work and are good. Then to the more mature phase which is being in production, actually making the work. Then to the finishing stages: reshooting if necessary or possibly going back in to edit and seek more crucial images from those already made, sequence and then to finish. Finally, after the project is finished and after showing it to valued friends and colleagues, to possibly reprint, re-sequence, redo and re-edit. 

Coming to an end of a project can be hard because, if you've made a few, you know what's coming next, the impending "valley", which means you are betweeen projects and probably a little lost. 

I can't stress this enough: It's okay. If the project you've just finished has been intense and grueling you deserve a break. This is a time when you might do something else, learn something new, take a class, etc. My friend Peter Laytin helped me through this a long time ago, when he showed a class I was teaching his infrared work. I was lost and in a funk as I couldn't seem to get started on anything that seemed meaningful. I had just finished a late 70's project called "Fences and Walls" and I didn't have a clue what to do next. So I became a student again, began working in black and white infrared, learning how to make a somewhat difficult material work for me and made many projects with it over the next several years, with some success in getting shows, being published and so on. 

Below is Boston, made in 1983: 

It is important to understand that one shouldn't feel it necessary to look complete, polished, "together" all the time. Making art is messy and imperfect, as we all are. False starts, going one direction then another, starting then stopping, putting it down, picking it up again, juggling one against another, changing course. All these are valid approaches and part of the process.

Student Story

I used to tell students that they had invented the rules in their projects. They would often say, when stumped or hitting a wall that they didn't know where to turn. I would suggest something and they would come back with, "I can't do that". I would sask "why not?" And they would say it was against the rules. And I would say "who's rules?" They would say, "mine", meaning theirs. And I would say in response "They're your rules, if you made them then you can break them." By this I mean that projects, bodies of work, will very often end up differently than when started or first defined. Making art is a fluid and changing thing, not rigid and fixed.

Part of being a professional artist is to know your limits, know when to push yourself and how, when not to, what league you are in, what league you aspire towards, how to allow for time to just be, when you need support, when you don't, being independent, being dependent, to know to seek advise and council. Making art really shouldn't be apart from your life it should be part of your life, a big part.

Hello all: This is a heads up for some things happening in the next few weeks in my world. I hope to see you at least at a couple of these events.

One Day Workshop

First off I am teaching a one day workshop on all things Portfolio for Still Digital Imaging in Belmont, MA. This is a class I first taught for DSI last fall and it was successful enough they wanted me to do it again. I bring in several of my own portfolios and go over different ways they are made and what they are for. After lunch we flip the class over to student portfolios. What they have, what they lack? A busy day but filled with information based upon my career long experiences. All levels of experience. Many of you are preparing now for NEPR (New England Portfolio Reviews) coming up in June and this a good way to prepare for those. For more info go to: Portfolio Workshop. Saturday, March 16 from 9am-4 pm.

Lecture

Then, on the 27th I will be presenting a lecture on my work for the Photographic Resource Center (PRC). I am working on the presentation now and have it broadly defined as a quick look backwards at my analog and  black and white work up until the American Series book came out in 2006. Then my main emphasis will be on  newer work, including a look at what I am showing at the Danforth Museum in Framingham, MA  and Panopticon Gallery in Boston in April.

Studio Event

Additionally, I am having a private showing to collectors of my vintage photographs at my studio on a Sunday afternoon in early March. This is being organized by Jason Landry, owner of Panopticon Gallery, which represents my work in the New England area. If you'd like to attend this event, no guarantees, but I suggest you contact him directly. You may contact him here: Panopticon Gallery

Finally, mark your calendars:

Exhibitions in April

Wheat, showing  at the Danforth Museum of Art, Framingham MA April 6- May 26.

As I've written before: the Danforth openings are for museum members only. If you would like to come to the opening, please email me and I will put you on a list. The reception is Saturday April 6. Neal's Email

Islands of Massachusetts, Panopticon Gallery, Boston MA runs from April 3- May 13. Over the past two years I have been aerially photographing all the islands of the the sate. This show will concentrate on Martha's Vineyard, but will have a few photographs from other MA islands too. This a two person show with Brian Kaplan, who will be showing pictures made on the Cape. It is a real honor to be exhibiting with Brian as his work is very very good.  The opening reception for this show is Wednesday, April 3, from 5:30-7:30 pm. This one is open to the public.

Home 

I am back home, having flown east from San Diego on Friday to avoid another winter storm. It is good to be home.

How do you plan for, prepare, purchase and pack for a trip that has an emphasis on photographing? How do professionals do this? How do I do it? 

For the sake of brevity we'll assume you have a destination and motivation. There are other kinds of photo trips, of course, like the one I am on while I am writing this in San Diego. This one has been, shall we say, speculative. But here I will speak to the issue of what you bring, what you leave behind, how you decide, how you pack, what you pack in, how you transport what you bring and how you come back with great pictures. 

For this blog I will assume you're flying to your destination.

For the inexperienced the single biggest mistake people make is that they bring gear they won't use. Too many cameras, cameras of different formats, too many lenses, too many of everything. Pack light! I've said this before but it is worth repeating: pros do not go on extended shooting trips with new gear or unknown components. The last thing you need to do is learn something on site.

It used to be dogma that you would bring an extra camera body. I don't anymore. Got a lot of lenses? Don't bring them all, in fact don't bring anything that duplicates focal lengths. Try to cover from wide to long and perhaps one fixed focal length that is fast for low light. To bring a tripod is a big decision but one I don't have to make. I always do. Mine is short enough that I pack it in my check-in suitcase, which rolls. I use a carbon fiber tripod to save weight.

Clothing? Light, packable, minimal and replaceable, chosen for the environment you'll be working in. Unless you're going into the wild it is very often easiest to buy some things as you need them. I had a friend with questionable hygiene who simply bought new underwear as he needed when he traveled, throwing away the old. 

Now that so many of us are digital the next big question is do you bring your laptop or not? I bring it, with a backup external hard drive.  I download shot RAW files every night, load them into the Aperture library, copy the RAWS onto the external hard drive, reformat the card and then go through them in Aperture, tweak them if I want, realize what I have and have not done with the day's shooting towards doing better tomorrow. 

Of  course, you've remembered to bring all the chargers and cables, a cable release, any needed filters, right? And power converters if you are traveling outside the US.

I was thinking about this as I was preparing for the trip I am on now. I have done this preparing for and packing so many times over my career that it is a ritual. Things go in the suitcase, backpack and rolling case now almost automatically. Rituals can be very helpful as you can go into an automatic mode that gets it all done. I once watched Fred Sommer cook us hamburgers for lunch in Prescott, AZ. Talk about a ritual-this was a virtuoso performance that elevated the making of a hamburger to high art. 

What is the best suitcase? Depends. I use a rolling semi hard case that is large but light made by Burton. It is perfect for my needs.

One final plug and that is don't neglect your own backyard, the USA, in your travel plans. This is one big and diverse country, incredibly rich in environment, culture and people. Believe me, you have not seen it all. Domestic travel is cheaper, easier and faster to get you to your destination. Not as exotic as someplace on the other side of the world it is true and yes, I like the big trip to far away too, but right here is very fine also. 

How do you make pictures that work for you beyond just being a pretty record of where you've been? Depends on your ambitions. Want to make pictures that when framed and on your living room wall speak to your trip and how colorful it was there or how friendly the locals were to you and your group? Want to get that great picture of the penguin that is very much like what's-his-name who shoots for  National Geographic made on his last trip to Antarctica? Fine, but not me. I want to make pictures that I can fit into my oeurve, into the body of work that is what I've made over my career. I work in series so I try to make series pictures when traveling. Do I take random pictures as a reaction to my surroundings when I travel? Yes. Do I use them often? Rarely. See: Utah 2010

What do you want? What are your aspirations with your work? What's your target objective? Who do you want to show your travel pictures to and what do you hope they will do with them?  Sunday NY Times Magazine? The Met? Aperture Magazine? A one person at MOMA?  I don't know that you need to be able to answer this but it would be good to wrestle with it. 

In conclusion: Making pictures from travels taken are about the most difficult things to pull off I can think of. As I write this now I am packing for home, leaving San Diego where I've been living and shooting for three weeks. 

As far as prep goes, think it through carefully. Don't bring what you don't need. Pack as light as you can.