On Limited Editions
Like most photographers, I've wrangled for years with the question of limited vs open editions, especially with the advent of digital "negatives", and Photoshop, does the question become more critical.
Limited editions come from the world of traditional printmaking, using presses and stones. Bridging the gap from fine-art print making to photography is simply a marketing issue. It's not based on any inherent difficulty in producing copies, as it is with fine art printmaking.
Shining a light thru a negative doesn't damage it, and in the digital world, absolutely identical prints can be made with even more ease.
So who insists on limited editions? Galleries. Why? Because they are easier to sell to collectors.
Most collectors of photography are in it for the love of it. There's a style or subject or something about a particular subject, print, or photographer that they just love.
And if it turns out to be a good investment as well... all the better. And, of course, there are those who are in it to spot the good investment. Both are legitimate.
A photographer only gets 1/2 of the sales price in a gallery... and from that has to bear all his expenses, from the print and frame to his equipment and overhead, before he sees any profit. That $1000 print may only net him $200.
Now, for photographers whose 1-of-4 prints are selling for $700,000 each, there's a nice living. But with the explosion of digital photography (which is a wonderful thing as far as I'm concerned) there are far more of us selling $700 prints than $700,000 prints.
Certainly that calls into question whether the gallery route is even practical for many photographers in the sub-$1000 range. Profiting $70 or $120 per print isn't much of a living, frankly.
And in fact, most of us do it for the love of the art, more than the money. But even a well-accepted photographer has to eat and pay the mortgage.
And from the artist's perspective, the issue is more complex than mere income - it's about his creative freedom: the digital age presents far more opportunities for expression. Many is the time I've seen one of my digital images in a new light, and created a revised print based on that new vision.
If I've offered a limited edition of 30, I'm quickly out of images I can sell, and my artistic creativity is stifled for that photo. Not only do I miss out, but so does the collector or anyone who loves my artwork. I'm ethically bound to quit at 30, and therefore the new vision will never see the light of day.
So, as it stands, if I want to be in brick-and-mortar gallery, I have two choices: 1) limited editions or 2) die. (Dead photographer = limited editions by definition.)
Besides not being too fond of the second option, I want to keep working with my images. And, in fact, each time I print one, it's at least slightly different.
Yes: all my prints are done by me, and not some third-party drop-shipping place. If you're buying one of my prints, well, it's going to be one of MY prints, not somebody else's print of my image.
I hope you're seeing where this is going now: my own solution to the "Limited Edition vs Artist" conundrum.
I don't know why this took so many years to occur to me, but here's my solution: do both. Here's how:
My prints are numbered sequentially. If you're a collector, then owning print number one is "a good thing." Further, it gives me the freedom to change the prints to suit my changing vision of them. Perhaps you'll agree, for example, that the new vision starting with print 17 is delightful. Fine: then owning print number 17 has it's own collector's rewards.
In fact, it opens up the possibility of collecting one-each of the range of interpretations, while still maintaining the ability to collect just the one print that knocks your socks off from anywhere in the series.
And the true limited editions? Simple: prints over 30 inches on one side will be limited to editions of 10. Not "10 in a given size" but TEN. Period. There may be one 30 x 40, and another 96 x 128; those would constitute 2 of the 10, leaving 8 to be made.
Prints from 20" to just under 30" are limited editions of 20.
So, as of October 17, 2009 (which happens to be my wedding anniversary) that's how I am selling my prints.
I believe that it permits me creative freedom without squelching the collector's market.
-- Tracy Valleau
Monterey, California
Like most photographers, I've wrangled for years with the question of limited vs open editions, especially with the advent of digital "negatives", and Photoshop, does the question become more critical.
Limited editions come from the world of traditional printmaking, using presses and stones. Bridging the gap from fine-art print making to photography is simply a marketing issue. It's not based on any inherent difficulty in producing copies, as it is with fine art printmaking.
Shining a light thru a negative doesn't damage it, and in the digital world, absolutely identical prints can be made with even more ease.
So who insists on limited editions? Galleries. Why? Because they are easier to sell to collectors.
Most collectors of photography are in it for the love of it. There's a style or subject or something about a particular subject, print, or photographer that they just love.
And if it turns out to be a good investment as well... all the better. And, of course, there are those who are in it to spot the good investment. Both are legitimate.
A photographer only gets 1/2 of the sales price in a gallery... and from that has to bear all his expenses, from the print and frame to his equipment and overhead, before he sees any profit. That $1000 print may only net him $200.
Now, for photographers whose 1-of-4 prints are selling for $700,000 each, there's a nice living. But with the explosion of digital photography (which is a wonderful thing as far as I'm concerned) there are far more of us selling $700 prints than $700,000 prints.
Certainly that calls into question whether the gallery route is even practical for many photographers in the sub-$1000 range. Profiting $70 or $120 per print isn't much of a living, frankly.
And in fact, most of us do it for the love of the art, more than the money. But even a well-accepted photographer has to eat and pay the mortgage.
And from the artist's perspective, the issue is more complex than mere income - it's about his creative freedom: the digital age presents far more opportunities for expression. Many is the time I've seen one of my digital images in a new light, and created a revised print based on that new vision.
If I've offered a limited edition of 30, I'm quickly out of images I can sell, and my artistic creativity is stifled for that photo. Not only do I miss out, but so does the collector or anyone who loves my artwork. I'm ethically bound to quit at 30, and therefore the new vision will never see the light of day.
So, as it stands, if I want to be in brick-and-mortar gallery, I have two choices: 1) limited editions or 2) die. (Dead photographer = limited editions by definition.)
Besides not being too fond of the second option, I want to keep working with my images. And, in fact, each time I print one, it's at least slightly different.
Yes: all my prints are done by me, and not some third-party drop-shipping place. If you're buying one of my prints, well, it's going to be one of MY prints, not somebody else's print of my image.
I hope you're seeing where this is going now: my own solution to the "Limited Edition vs Artist" conundrum.
I don't know why this took so many years to occur to me, but here's my solution: do both. Here's how:
My prints are numbered sequentially. If you're a collector, then owning print number one is "a good thing." Further, it gives me the freedom to change the prints to suit my changing vision of them. Perhaps you'll agree, for example, that the new vision starting with print 17 is delightful. Fine: then owning print number 17 has it's own collector's rewards.
In fact, it opens up the possibility of collecting one-each of the range of interpretations, while still maintaining the ability to collect just the one print that knocks your socks off from anywhere in the series.
And the true limited editions? Simple: prints over 30 inches on one side will be limited to editions of 10. Not "10 in a given size" but TEN. Period. There may be one 30 x 40, and another 96 x 128; those would constitute 2 of the 10, leaving 8 to be made.
Prints from 20" to just under 30" are limited editions of 20.
So, as of October 17, 2009 (which happens to be my wedding anniversary) that's how I am selling my prints.
I believe that it permits me creative freedom without squelching the collector's market.
-- Tracy Valleau
Monterey, California