When good photographs go bad

Recently I received in the mail a photography book from a prestigious photo book publisher. I just love getting new books unsolicited. At least I thought I did, until I began to page through the book. The photographs were by a very important photographer and the images in the book were well known to me.

The first problem began when I held the book in my hands. It didn't’t feel like a photography book; it was light and not very substantial in size. I do not have an issue with softbound books; some of the best photobooks are bound without stiff boards as covers. The size of the book didn’t really bother me all that much for I have experienced some very exquisite volumes that were slight in stature. The real issue was with the paper. Reproductions of photographs require quality paper to provide a substrate for the inks to adhere and to obtain rich tonal values for the images. Of course without using photogravure, duotone, tritone or at least a fine halftone screen, the best paper in the world will render poor reproductions. But you must start with quality paper. These reproductions were fair to poor, certainly not doing justice to these fine works of art.

The reproductions lacked the sharp, clean, crisp quality that I have become accustomed to when looking at photobooks. Perhaps my expectations have become too high. However, there is no excuse for poor reproductions. These prints looked … dirty. They had white spots and not the type that you would find in images by photographers that put more emphasis on the content than the craft of photography*. These spots were the result of sloppy printing. This was simply embarrassing.

The final insult to my senses was how the images in the book were arranged. There was no apparent attempt to create a photobook. I realize that some books that fall into the genre of the ‘catalogue’ and do not attempt to tell a ‘story’ (something I have written about in previous newsletters). Catalogues do have a specific structure were the images are organized by themes, subject or even date as a means to put the photographers oeuvre into context. This book had none of these characteristics. The images were neither sequenced to enhance the photographs nor to provide the ‘reader’ with a context for the photographer’s aesthetic. Again, a very poor attempt at the art of bookmaking.

By now, you may be wondering why I have been carrying on at such length without either naming the publisher or the photographer. Simply put, I am too embarrassed for this publisher and too respectful of the photographer. I trust that this publisher had some reason for assembling this book, e.g. to provide an inexpensive access to the photographer by individuals that do not care much for the art of the photobook or for quality reproductions. I do not accept this reasoning as an excuse for poor quality and publishers of photography must not insult either the artist or their audience.

There, I gotten all this off my chest, and I won’t bother you again with my ravings (maybe).

* This is a subject of another article, Image Content vs. the Craft of Photography.