There’s nothing quite like the feeling of holding something you’ve made in your own hands. Like holding your baby for the first time, seeing your creation in front of you fills you with a sense of pride. You admire the beauty of the thing you’ve brought into the world. You are robbed of these kinds of visceral sensations when you keep your work in the realm of the digital. It’s satisfying to upload an Instagram post, but once you’ve sent it off into the ether and received your likes, it’s out of your hands and disappears forever. Meanwhile, physical objects can provide us with a lasting feeling of joy – seeing something you’ve made hanging above your couch everyday can inspire you to create time and time again.
When you print out your own photographs, you may notice details you hadn’t seen on the computer screen. You may be pleasantly surprised by your creation, or even horrified by all the dust spots which weren’t apparent when you posted your photo to Instagram, but now they’re all you can see. You may decide to hang your photo on your wall or give it to a friend. The point is that turning something you created digitally into a physical object makes it FEEL REAL! No longer is it confined to your tiny phone screen, or to the realm of social media likes. Like a painting, it’s something you can hold, something that has texture, and can be physically handed to someone. When you print your work, it takes on a life of its own.
A couple years ago I invested in my own Canon Pixma Pro-100. This printer has served me very well – I’ve sold a few prints, and even printed out a few Christmas presents! Most importantly though, this printer has allowed me to see my work as something that actually MATTERS (literally made of matter) – I spent years taking photos for them to solely end up in Instagram posts. With my printer and my archive of photos, the world of galleries and print selling opened up to me.
Back in February, I was blessed with the incredible opportunity to have my first ever photography exhibit. I was nervous – what if no one showed up? What if no one cared about my photography? I came to the conclusion that at the end of the day, no matter what happened, at least I had tried. After all I’d always envisioned having my own gallery. At the very least, I would learn about printing, framing, curating, and all the other logistics related to having your own photography exhibit.
It started back in August, when my wife and I first arrived in Albuquerque. As a lover of coffee, one of the first things I did was look up the highest reviewed coffee shops in the area – to get my fix of caffeine, relaxing tunes and good reading. I found Little Bear Coffee on Pennsylvania, my favorite coffee shop in ABQ to this day. After seeing the artwork for sale on the walls, when I ordered my drink, I also introduced myself as a landscape photographer who just moved from Alaska. The barista was very polite, and gave me the e-mail of the shop’s art curator. I sent the curator an email, and next thing I knew, I was on the schedule!
Then the panic set in – which photos would I use in my exhibit? How would I frame them? Will there be a theme? How am I going to promote it? How will I make the promotional flyer? It was in seeking out the answers to these questions that brought me the most value out of this experience. Even if my show had turned out to be a failure, at least I will have learned a few important skills.
Having my own exhibit forced me to define my photographic style – how would I decide which photos would make the cut and which wouldn’t? I spent hours poring through my whole oeuvre of work from over the years. I decided that my photographic style was: minimal (mostly with a focus on a single subject), leaned towards artistic, almost abstract compositions, and with a heavy attention to detail to color. I narrowed my focus to only photos of Alaska, which is where a majority of my photos have been taken. The title of my show was “Pieces of Alaska”. I knew I wanted some photos of classic Alaskan subjects, so bears, glaciers, and mountains of course!
Going through this whole curation process forced me to choose the best of my work, which I feel has benefited me as a photographer. Having defined what I think represents my work as whole, I now have a more clearly defined vision of my “style”, and what makes me unique. As a photographer, knowing exactly what it is that sets your work apart from others’ is invaluable.
Another thing that having my first gallery set me up for is giving me the confidence to ask to be a member of an actual photography gallery! I firmly believe that if I hadn’t had that first show in a coffee shop, I would never have had the confidence to ask to become a part of the Albuquerque Photography Gallery. Yet here I am today, sitting in this downtown gallery writing this blog post as customers peruse our work.
Being a member of the Albuquerque Photographer Gallery has taught me a number of things about photography.
Beautiful landscape photos are not the only thing that people are looking for when it comes to purchasing photography. One of the gallery’s best selling images is just a simple photo of a pair of blue doors attached to an adobe style home (the Puebloan people believed that the color blue repelled evil sprits, so they painted their doors blue, according to folklore). Also, another member’s bestseller is a simple, selectively desaturated image of some old beat up gas pumps all lined up in a row – a relic of the heyday of Route 66. Though the beautiful landscape images do sell well, they’re not the only things that do!
This knowledge inspires me to want to seek out imagery of the finer details that people may or may not be instantly attracted to based on pure aesthetics alone. This inspires me to create images where the story behind it is just as important, if not more important, than the image itself. There’s really no telling what people will have a connection with (everyone is unique and has their own taste when it comes to artwork).
Printing out my work has taught me that people really do value artwork. Whether it’s just to have a nice accent to some furniture they’ve recently purchased, or because they feel a real, soul-pulling connection to a piece – people love and value art for a variety of different reasons.
Here are a few reasons people might buy some artwork:
They feel emotionally connected to it – whether it be the story behind how the photo was made, the location, or even simply just the colors. People that spend a high dollar amount on artwork FEEL SOMETHING deep within them telling them that they need to see this piece in their life. They want to see this hanging above their fireplace, in their bedroom, so they see it every morning when they wake up and feel inspired for the day ahead
Another reason people might buy a photo is as a souvenir – people want to take something with them from their trip to the Land of Enchantment. Memorabilia is important – people want to bring something back with them that reminds them of their trip to New Mexico
A reason locals may decide to pull the plug and purchase a piece is because they want to showcase a piece of their homeland to people who visit their home. They want something they can pridefully show off to guests and other visitors, and say “this photo represents this place to me”
One of my favorite things about having my work in the physical world is my ability to share it with others. I love to give friends and family my artwork for special occasions, as a token of my appreciation for them being in my life, and also to save money on Christmas gifts! Just kidding. I only give my work out to people I really love and enjoy – so if I’ve ever given you one of my prints, consider yourself lucky. It means you’re special to me.
