Published
Back in the Middle Ages - 2011 in this case - I created a book (link to it by clicking the image above). It was primarily a portfolio exercise, but it still lives in the virtual world - available at a bit of an eye-watering sixty quid.
I was immersed in the world of fashion products, and was shooting them for the Barbour brand - sacrificing 8 years of my life only to be shut off without warning when they set up their own operation. (Imagine!) I was exploited on a daily basis because I never said no to anything - and consequently, the collective ego of everyone in that organisation could exercise the power they were unable to wield in their own workplace by demanding ridiculous things from me
“Your 2-year-old who you’re looking after today is seriously ill with a horrible respiratory virus, and will require emergency hospital treatment in a few hours? Stuff you - I want this jacket shot now”.
“The massive snowstorm has closed Northumberland completely? Stuff you - move into a Newcastle hotel for 2 days at your own cost because we want these few items shot now”.
“You’re in the middle of shooting a huge collection of clothes for us and any delay will mean you have to come in overnight” Stuff you - we’ve got a hipster dude called Nigel visiting who is a friend of the marketing director. He fancies himself as a fashion photographer, and is shooting some models’ arses in tight jeans for us at a fee you could only dream of. He’s got no lights, so we’re taking yours. Now piss off home and come back at 9 p.m. when he’s finished with your equipment so you can work through the night while we’re out drinking and slapping ourselves on the back for a great job done - at f2.8. Oh - can you show him how to use everything?”
“We’ve got some middle-aged Japanese ‘influencer’ coming in this morning. Can you get out of the warehouse you’re shooting in while he does his extremely important thing that nobody will ever see? Oh - by the way, he’s just poncing about like a twat with a small camera, a couple of Japanese lasses, an entourage of the most bizarrely subservient Barbour staff members, and no lights in a space lit by sodium lamps so that anything he photographs will look like orange shit”.
“Now that we’ve finally managed to get rid of you and your pesky work ethic, sign this form which assigns total copyright to us for every single photo you’ve ever taken in your own studio. That means you won’t be able to ever display any work on your website to show prospective clients the quality of your work, or demonstrate your ability to shoot high-volume campaigns for blue-chip clients. Don’t sign, and you won’t get paid for your final invoice”.
I ended that part of my career abruptly, and without anything to fund the continuing existence of a very expensive studio unit. The only evidence of me being in that workspace is the book detailed above, and a collection of portfolio images that I refused to delete. The several TB of raw files of products and models shot over the years was purged, and off I went into the wilderness as an experienced commercial photographer without a brief.
I vowed that I’d never allow myself to be monopolised again, and then - low and behold - I did it once more! You’ve just got to go with the flow, and it’s often impossible to resist what’s in front of you at that moment.
Never again.
