The Numbering Affair

Alain,

Thank you for your thoughtful and detailed essay on numbering prints. Though I don't number prints, and have always resisted doing so, my response to a customer who asks why I don't number my prints has not been nearly as articulate as yours even if I've come to similar conclusions on many points you've made. Your essay will help me make the explanation clearer to both myself and my customer.

Mike

Hi Mike,

Thank you. You are welcome.

The key element for me in writing this essay was realizing that making better and better prints was not possible once an edition sells out. Since print quality is one of my most important goals, that meant abandoning numbering.

While I write on the subject, many photographers follow the same approach without fanfare. Joseph Holmes, Charles Cramer, Michael Reichmann and many other contemporary photographers do not number their prints. Their work sells very well, which is testimony to the fact that not numbering and being successful in selling your work is not an impossibility.

Alain

Bonjour Alain
I think that it would be nice and wise from you if you could post a short introduction here in OPF in order to better tease our members and "push" them to follow the link to your article…
After all we like to know where we go when we get an invitation… imho…

Nicolas Claris said:

Bonjour Alain
I think that it would be nice and wise from you if you could post a short introduction here in OPF in order to better tease our members and "push" them to follow the link to your article…
After all we like to know where we go when we get an invitation… imho…

Click to expand...

I agree I just wasn't sure how to introduce this essay so I thought I'd just see what the reaction is.

This essay stems from my ongoing reflection on the subject of limited edition prints. To limit or not to limit, that is the question, is how I start the essay. How I end it is to be found by reading the essay ;-)

The essay also comes out of what I see as the increasing importance of the "limited edition debate", for lack of a better term (there's really no specific name for this debate which is mostly informal, though important, at this time).

The "clincher'", for me and in a nutshell, was the realization that at a time of constant technical improvements, limiting and consequently discontinuing new printings of an image (and by implication of landmark images eventually) was preventing the creation of better and better prints of this image.

My entire argument, and the road that led me to this position, are outlined in detail in my essay.

I very much look forward to your response, positive or negative. I don't so much seek praise (although it is enjoyable I admit) as much as I seek to open a discussion.

With unlimited regards,

Alain Briot

Thank you Alain
I will of course read carefully your essay and post here my feedback when I'll be back from my next 6 days photoshoot for which I'm leaving tomorrow morning...

Thank you and of course I am interested by the comments from all OPF readers as well

The great philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889 - 1951) identified a class of conceptual challenges that arise because of a misuse of language and I think "The Numbering Affair" reflects one of them. All the "numbering" difficulties wink out of existence if the underlying assumption, that "photographs" are "prints" is discarded. I believe that photographs are so different from prints technically, historically, and aesthetically that to call photographs "prints" is now one of those deceits that become widely tolerated because they are so frequent and familiar.

The conflation of "photographs" with "prints" began, I believe, with a 19th century inferiority complex on the part of photography. Here was a new medium with no aesthetic credentials. Art critics and especially dealers burdened it with the values of the next best thing: etchings, engravings, aquatints; prints in general. A collector in search of a fine engraving might be persuaded to buy a photograph especially if it were passed off as just another kind of print and a cheaper one at that. I suggest it is time that photography cast off this cringing subservience to the old print media.

Most photographers (camera clickers aside) know how photographs come into being but they do not know about prints. Compressing the encyclopedia of printmaking into a couple of sentences is tricky but here's an attempt. In printing the mark-making medium, ink, paint, whatever, is not formed directly in the substrate (as in photography) but is conducted from a reservoir by an organizing matrix such as an intaglio, relief, or planographic printing plate. Silkscreen and lithography are planographic, etching and engraving are intaglio, and letter-press and wood-cut are relief processes. The key thing is that the print medium does not have to be generated anew for each copy. To get another etching one merely has to roll the press another time. One does not have to etch again.

Photography is a very different thing. To get one more photograph you must photograph again right from first principles. The subject has to be re-addressed and light collected from it, a sensitive surface must be exposed to this light, then developed, fixed, washed - you know the drill. People forget that the subject for many photographs is an all ready existing photograph, usually a negative. If I make a photograph of that negative on ordinary gelatin-silver emulsion I get a positive. That positive is surely a photograph whether the emulsion happens to be coated on clear base or paper. To call one version a photograph because it's on film and the other a print because it's on paper seems absurd. I will admit that the world is big enough that every absurdity will find someone (many?) to champion it but wrong can't be turned into right whatever the vote.

Ansel Adams introduced an attractive and insightful analogy between photography and music and the analogy can be extended to include prints. Prints are like playing a record to get music. Photographs are like playing a musical instrument to get music. A record sounds the same every time it is played. A live performance is unique because even for an accomplished musician it is never exactly the same twice. Many music lovers know and prize the difference. That’s why they will pay more for a concert ticket than a record. Some photographers have a parallel understanding about their own art and will always prize a photograph above a print.

Ludwig Wittgenstein would put it another way: if you face a photograph but say "print" then you are imprisoned into thinking "print" which leads inevitably into seeing "print" where no print exists. Once the seeing is wrong strange things follow. For example, if photographs are prints then prints could be photographs. Impossible you say? No, it is already happening every time you are offered an ink-jet print that postures as a photograph.

Alain Briot, in his essay, has identified another strange thing; how badly print-maker talk fits with photographic creativity. Photographs really don't do "numbered copy", "limited edition", "print", "proof", "artists proof", BAT (bon a tirer = "good to pull"), "impression" and all the other print shop vocabulary. Every attempt to force photography into “print making” for commercial gain has a smell of artifice about it; a tacit swindle that leaves photographers, dealers, and collectors marked by a principle compromised.

And the only thing at stake is commerce not art. It is difficult to imagine a collector feeling truly fulfilled, getting more joy, in buying a “limited edition” photograph simply because they are assured there are a hundred more exactly like it out there somewhere. Photographs don’t derive worth from being “the same” from one example to another but prints do. That’s why extending the print concepts of numbering and editioning to photographs does nothing except cheapen and commodify those photographs.

If you have read this far you will know which side I am on. I make a lot of photographs and I never call them prints. I am proud, unashamed, and forthright in calling a photograph a photograph and I'll do it with a clenched fist salute to show I'm serious and a smile on my face to show I'm not dangerous.

Maris,

I find that your words resonate well with me. For the moment let's accept all you have said. Still, I'd like to know when buying a print that you won't simply, oops! See, I said print!

Let me restart. If I buy a photograph from you and I pay $1200, I'd like to know that besides giving me joy, your work may possibly increase in value. That's one of my fantasies but my life does not rely on that ever happening. Still that's what I like to think is possible. Now if you make 1000 other similar versions of that same negative, then my print, although unique, is actually part of a set of 1001 instances. In that case the presence of more potential sellers of the picture will keep the price relatively lower than if there was merely one or say 5 such photographs from the same negative.

For that reason, art in the commercial area of buyers, collectors, galleries and museums recognizes a requirement for scarcity.

As far as Identity and replicas are concerned, lithography does give varying ink distribution and so each print is slightly different. In the traditional photographer's wet darkroom however, for hand made photographs with dodging and burning and retouching or slow or fast agitation and so forth, the artistic result is individualized for every photograph made.

Still we would not want to give each such picture different name. But we can record the identity by merely saying it 17/25 so that we can follow the provenance of that one unique work of art. The limit to 25 is a signal to the art buyer that the photographer will do other work and is not going to flood every living room with the likes of the unique scene we have just purchased. If we know who has each picture we also can know that 6 other pictures that appear are likely forgeries.

I think of unlimited editions of a picture is entirely suitable for the entrepreneur. Just dial in 1000 instead of 10 and one has more to sell. The Epson, Canon or HP printer will churn them out as long as the instructions are reasonably followed. The only considerations are sotrage space and the cost of materials.

For art including fine photography, a limited edition means that each was carefully made by the artist and it's not a commodity like tea, sugar or wheat.

However, if I know the photographer, I don't need a number or even a signature to treasure it.

Asher

Maris,

I think you make a good argument however to say that "photographs are not prints" is unecessarily misleading. As Asher point out, you won't find buyers, or even an audience, that won't call a photographic print... a print!

You need to find a different word for "print" if you don't like to use that word. "Photographs" doesn't work because it refers to the original, not the print of the original.

Otherwise I think your argument follows mine and Adams'. My recommendation is to use the term "photographic print" and contrast it with lithographs, serigraphs, engravings, etc.

Of course you could use the term "giclee" or "pigmented print" but this unecessarily confuses the issue and removes the medium from the equation except for that section of the audience that is knowledgeable about the medium.

I am personally in favor of using the terms "chemical photographic print" or "digital photographic print" since these make the originating medium clear to anyone, regardless of the audience's technical background.

Alain

Alain Briot said:

Otherwise I think your argument follows mine and Adams'. My recommendation is to use the term "photographic print" and contrast it with lithographs, serigraphs, engravings, etc.

Of course you could use the term "giclee" or "pigmented print" but this unecessarily confuses the issue and removes the medium from the equation except for that section of the audience that is knowledgeable about the medium.

I am personally in favor of using the terms "chemical photographic print" or "digital photographic print" since these make the originating medium clear to anyone, regardless of the audience's technical background.

Click to expand...

Alain,

A photograph on a piece of film is processed, scanned and then printed on a digital printer. What do we then call that and differentiate it from a photograph one holds in one's hand or one pulls out of a box of "old photographs" and recognize that this was made in the darkroom too, each individually and then another by a machine wet chemical printer.

1. 
   Film to wet chemical picture: for 100 years called the photograph!
   
   
2. Film to scanner through Computer and digital correction to laser wet chemical picture
   
   
3. Film to scanner through Computer and digital correction to inkjet picture
   
   
4. Digital Image through Computer and digital correction to wet chemical picture via internegative
   
   
5. Digital Image through Computer and digital correction to wet chemical picture via laser printer
   
   
6. Digital Image through Computer and digital correction to inkjet picture

What's you set of names? The origin of the imager in film v. digital needs to be referenced and also the end process.


Asher

Asher,

Do we really need different names? Maybe for a photography how-to magazine - but your average collector isn't interested in all of that - gets too confusing - they just want to call it beautiful

Going back to numbering, one issue I had with selling one's work in open editions - and Alain and I discussed this over the phone the other day - is that if you sell your work in open editions you are limiting where you can sell your photography. Most of the top art festivals here in the U.S. require the photographer to sell only signed and numbered prints. Some even specify that no print can be sold if the edition is over XX amount of prints. Collectors who buy at art festivals are so used to seeing limited editions with photography that if they see someone's work who only sells in open editions - well they generally assume (right or wrong) that it is mass-produced.

It's a marketing decision either way - whether you decide to sell open or limited editions. While there are always exceptions, those who sell in limited editions generally get more money for their work. And selling photography in limited editions has largely become the norm - both from the photographers standpoint as well as the collector.

Matt,

I was just replying to Alain's suggestion of two terms to define the images provenance.

Alain Briot said:

Otherwise I think your argument follows mine and Adams'. My recommendation is to use the term "photographic print" and contrast it with lithographs, serigraphs, engravings, etc.

Click to expand...

How it's finally printed seems to be as important as the initial capture. Spending 16 hours in the wet darkroom to make the most refined print makes that photograph what it is. So defining a picture merely by how it started is insufficient in the best cases.

Asher

Asher Kelman said:

Matt,

Spending 16 hours in the wet darkroom to make the most refined print makes that photograph what it is.

Asher

Click to expand...

I tend to disagree a little. The photographers vision, and his/her execution of that vision, is what makes a photograph what it is. Whether one spent 1 hour or 16 hours in a wet or dry darkroom is of most importance to other photographers. Collectors may discuss the technical briefly - but they are more interested in the emotional. I have sold many pieces where not even once was there any questions about whether it was film or digital, wet darkroom or dry darkroom, etc. They wanted to talk about how the piece resonates with them. A photographer might get excited hearing about the technical stuff, but for the average collector it can be trivial.

I do think Alain's two terms of definition would be sufficient if one felt the need to more define the term "photographic print". Personally I think "photographic print" is just fine. I just feel that in general photographers are more interested in the technical aspects than the buying public.

Matt

Asher Kelman said:

Matt,

Spending 16 hours in the wet darkroom to make the most refined print makes that photograph what it is.

Click to expand...

Matt Suess said:

I tend to disagree a little. The photographers vision, and his/her execution of that vision, is what makes a photograph what it is.

Click to expand...

Precisely, and that execution is the 16 hours of Ansel Adam's expertise and skill to realize his vision. When we see the photograph, we know of all that devotion and iterative work to go form intent to finished art.

Buying such a picture, one's touching the genius of a master and recognizing his tireless effort to perfect the final photograph.

Matt Suess said:

Whether one spent 1 hour or 16 hours in a wet or dry darkroom is of most importance to other photographers.

Click to expand...

In most cases, yes; we don't care to know how long was spent unless the technique is part of the signature style. For example, the master photographer such as Weston who's technique itself helps define the quality and unique value of the delivered photograph.

Asher Kelman said:

Precisely, and that execution is the 16 hours of Ansel Adam's expertise and skill to realize his vision. When we see the photograph, we know of all that devotion and iterative work to go form intent to finished art...

Click to expand...

For some, knowing the technical behind the photograph is important and knowing that information makes the photograph more impressive for them. For me, I don't need all of that background information for a print to impress me. I can understand/assume many hours go behind each and every great print I see - I follow the same approach with my own work. But I don't need to use that as a selling point. Just like you said, when you see the photograph it's easy to see all of the devotion, etc.

Perhaps the best way to illustrate this is as such: I enjoy the work of the late Galen Rowell. I don't own any of his prints, but I will someday soon. I also know very little of exactly how he created his photos. I know some basics, and know that he spent a lot of time perfecting his photography, but not much more. The photographs speak for themselves, and that's all I need to know to both enjoy his work and someday be a collector. Sometimes the final results speak louder than the process.

Wow, did we go off-topic. Sorry.

Matt

Asher Kelman said:

Precisely, and that execution is the 16 hours of Ansel Adam's expertise and skill to realize his vision. When we see the photograph, we know of all that devotion and iterative work to go form intent to finished art.

Buying such a picture, one's touching the genius of a master and recognizing his tireless effort to perfect the final photograph.

In most cases, yes; we don't care to know how long was spent unless the technique is part of the signature style. For example, the master photographer such as Weston who's technique itself helps define the quality and unique value of the delivered photograph.

Click to expand...

Hi Asher,

I think that's a wonderful description of darkroom artist's work. But how does that differ from digital artist's work? Personally, I don't see any difference except that one does his work in the darkroom while the other does it on a computer.

Alain

Following my conversation with Matt I added a new section to my essay titled "the Art Show Conundrum". If you already read the essay this is section 7. Here's the link again:

http://beautiful-landscape.com/Thoughts88-Numbering%20prints.html

Alain Briot said:

Following my conversation with Matt I added a new section to my essay titled "the Art Show Conundrum". If you already read the essay this is section 7. Here's the link again:

http://beautiful-landscape.com/Thoughts88-Numbering%20prints.html

Click to expand...

Alain,

I read your addition and it sums up what we have discussed here very well. Perhaps then you might add a link back to here to complete the circle so people can see the connection between your essay and the evolution of the addendum. That would be most helpful and appreciated.

Asher

Hi Asher,

Done.

Hi Alain,

Perfect!