Damaso Reyes Photography

I recently got an email form an amateur photographer celebrating the fact that a photograph he took of a famous writer was published on a trade magazine’s website. On congratulated him and asked, already suspecting what the answer would be, how much they paid. His answer was that they published his photograph in return for a photo credit. This is how I replied:

“Hear me very clearly.

You are part of a community. Whether you believe it or not you took food out of someone else’s mouth. When you work for free or give your work away for free you damage those of us who don’t have the benefit of a staff job not related to photography.

When you complain about not getting recognition; when you are sad that you don’t get what you feel you deserve please remember each and every time you gave away your work. There was someone else trying to make a dollar. And even if there was not?

You are smart enough to understand that. If you truly want to be a photographer you should play be the same rules as the rest of us instead of undermining us. If that sounds harsh I’m sorry but ask any professional photographer you claim to respect if this is a good approach to building and supporting the community you claim to be a part of.”

Rwanda, ten years after the genocide. This image was not crowdsourced.

As a professional, and one who struggles to make ends meet, I care deeply about this issue. There are lots of hobbyists out there who are happy to let massive multinational corporations use their work for free. Heck there are lots of professionals who do the same and it has sadly become something of a rite of passage for young photographers to trade their images for “exposure.” I know because I’ve been there too. I have sinned as well. Today major magazine and websites are now sourcing some of their photographs from Flickr users who don’t ask to be paid. Ten years ago how many contract photographers did Time Magazine have? How many do they have today?

Crowdsourcing may let editors cover many things but here are places camera phones can’t, and won’t go. If we think that long form documentary work and independent photojournalism is important then we as a community need say enough is enough. Non professionals need to accept that yes, they are part of the community too, and need to be responsible members of it. When you give away that image just to see your name in lights it is a problem…

This little rant won’t change anything but I feel like it is important to put the idea that images have value out there when so many people are telling us exactly the opposite.

Everyone seems to be looking for a shortcut. Is there a single place where I can find every grant I want to apply for? Are there five things that I can do to become a successful photographer in the next six months? Is there a way to get food in my belly without all the cooking and chewing?

This Marine knows you have to crawl before you can walk. Parris Island, S.C.

While no one has actually asked me that third question the first two, or variations thereof, I have heard countless times. Photography, like life, is a process, why try to rush it? You have to take the bad pictures to get to the good ones there’s no way around that. You have to get lost in order to figure out where you want to go, why not enjoy the ride? Sure sometimes it’s bumpy. Sometimes you feel like you are falling off a cliff but what is the alternative? A life so measured and ordered that there are no surprises?

It’s called photography not photograph. The photograph is just a symbol, a representation of all that went before and after that moment but the experiences around the photograph are what make up photography. These experiences are vastly more important than the relic they leave behind. Sure we all want to make great images and that is how we communicate our experiences but why try to short change the act?

You have to put the time in. There is always a temptation to find a faster way, an easier way. But that is not always or perhaps ever, the better way. I’m the sum total of my experiences not of my photographs. Every misplaced step, every wrong turn, every blunder and error are part of me. Why would I give that up?