The Private Dancers

"I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money, I'll do what you want me to do.
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money, and any old music will do."

As we gradually shoot with more and more models, we are increasingly coming across models who approach Rich for a shoot, but who want to know what is going to happen to their images.

Now this is an entirely understandable question, and I approve entirely. Every model should ask it. We are only too happy to explain that the finished images will be used for prints, and will be displayed on our web site and this blog. I also make sure I send them an advance copy of the model release, so we can go through any questions they might have before the shoot and I can make sure that they are happy and comfortable working with us. This is important because our model release protects not only the photographer, but the model too. Plus, with newer models in particular, some are understandably rather nervous and need a little reassurance that Rich is a legitimate and honourable photographer, and that I’m not a jealous axe-murdering wife (only when the moon is full, in case you’re wondering.)

AlexisSummers 920

But the strangest thing is starting to happen. We are increasingly coming across models who are initially keen to shoot with Rich, and they want to be paid handsomely for it too, but they stipulate up front that the images are not to be made public at any time. In essence, these models do not want to sign a model release, and they want the photos only to be seen by the photographer and no-one else, in case they are recognised. “Shooting for the photographer’s private portfolio” it’s called. In other words, there is a growing industry niche for models who will only shoot with GWC’s (That’s Guys With Cameras for new readers.) When Rich gently explains that a model release must also be signed, they demand loadsa extra cash. When I politely explain that the images are to be published on our blog and possibly elsewhere in the future, they run screaming for the hills.

To some extent, you can understand the attractions of shooting only for GWC’s. The advantages are that models get paid very well, they know exactly what is going to happen to their photographs, they don’t have to sign any legal documents (and thus the photographer is therefore guaranteed unable to publish or use the photos for commercial purposes) and they don’t have to worry that their own families or day-job employers might find out about their little cash-making enterprise on the side. Anonymity is assured.

These models are not professionals (although I suppose it depends on your definition of “professional”) nor do they want to shoot with professionals. The fact that some guy is tossing off over photographs of them nekkid, doesn’t phase these women at all. They prefer it. The audience is one, not thousands. Not every model wants fame. Not every model does it for art. Sometimes it really is just for the money.

I’m not sure of an appropriate label for this type of model. Rich has some ideas, but they’re not that polite I’m afraid, so I’m just going with “private dancer” from one of my all-time favourite Tina Turner hits.

As for us, sometimes life would be a lot easier if we were simple pervs and we just did photography to get horny. For some reason some folks find that easier to comprehend than the concept of photographic art.

AlexisSummers 929

Alexis Summers, a completely professional model, and a joy to work with.

Furious about Fuel

Petrol (that’s gas to you Yanks) is set to tip £1.30 a litre this week. That’s approximately $11.70 USD an imperial gallon in US-speak. Gulp!

As my favourite economist Merryn Somerset Webb wrote this week, each litre of petrol sold in the UK is taxed at a flat tax of 53.65 pence per litre (for US currency, that’s $4.83 USD per gallon) which is one of the highest fuel taxes in the world. On top of that, we also pay VAT (sales tax) of 17.5% when we buy fuel, not just on the cost of the aforesaid fuel but on the tax too. So we pay TAX ON TAX! Of course, we are paying out of income which has already been taxed twice (income tax and national insurance, which isn’t insurance at all, it’s just another tax.) So how many times has my tank of fuel been taxed? Three or four? (I’m losing count.)

In the UK, people are cutting down on car trips, and in rural communities such as ours, people can’t afford to heat their homes. That’s O.K. at the moment because it’s summer, but what happens when winter bites? Last month our village was riddled with thieves stealing heating oil from domestic oil tank stores. People are getting desperate.

Fuel costs are affecting folks all over the world, of course. Everyone is suffering, so we’re not alone. And it’s causing food prices to rise too. Our major supermarket Tesco is rationing rice this week - in the U.K.!?! Astounding. But everyone knows things are getting bad. This is not news. This is reality, and as the saying goes, deal with reality or reality will deal with you.

So what does this have to do with photography? Well, the oil situation probably might not affect many of you yet, but for us personally, like many other U.K. photographers who shoot for fun, we have young to feed and we’re perilously low on dosh. Putting it bluntly, we are self-employed, and we fund Fluffies from our spare cash. We do it 'cos we love it, and we adore making art (or trying to make it anyway.) As it stands today, we have two more shoots booked. After that our photographic reserves run out, and there will be no more new nekkid chix gracing this blog unless some kind laydeez decide to lend their beauty for the higher purpose of creating Art. Failing that, you’re stuck with my ass, I’m afraid (the rest of my body has left the building.)

Oil is predicted to top $200 a barrel by Christmas. As Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica says, “We’re completely fragged. Where’s it going to end?”

AlexisSummers 957

More Alexis from a couple of weeks ago.

Profit Before Ego

It’s Monday morning. Grab a coffee. Let’s talk money.

From what I understand, most art nude prints are sold to collectors, often regular folks like me who collect the art that they love. Over a lifetime I will probably build up quite a collection of paintings and photography, and of course I live in hope of finding I have a modern equivalent of a Carla Bruni print that is worth a fortune (don’t mind me, I’m only jealous) but in the meantime, whilst I lie back and wait for my equivalent collector’s financial miracle to occur, I’ll just keep on plodding along with my low-budget collecting of photos that tickle my fancy.

Now the key phrase in the last paragraph was “low-budget.” Of course like most ordinary everyday wannabe art collectors, I’m broke (this is the credit crunch after all.) There’s not much in my wallet apart from the odd moth or three. Carla Bruni and Lucian Freud collectors aside, most ordinary folks who collect art only have a few $$$ spare a month, and will only buy a piece occasionally for a present, or when they find an exceptional print that they really, really must have. Even then, in my case, if the photograph costs over about $50, it’s out of my league, and most folks I know are in the same boat.

So how does that help you, the poor starving artist who relies upon print sales as a bit of extra cash to fund his art?

Now some of you out there will think that me paying you $50 for a print is entirely reasonable (and that would be those of you who are still selling prints, I suspect) but some of you will be horrified, because you know your art is worth much more than that. Based on past print price sales, perhaps you won’t even consider getting out of bed for less than $300-$1000+ a print?

If this is the case, then congrats! You have just priced yourself out of the majority of the modern art collector’s market. O.K. Let me explain. We are entering a recession. You can only sell your art at the price which the market will bear. You need to drop your prices if you want to survive. There’s no use holding out for the wealthy collectors (unless you have Carla piccies of course) because they won’t be able to buy from you very soon. Remember, people want to collect something which is both affordable and desirable. They want a bargain.

My recommendation to you, as your trusty nekkid financial adviser, is to adjust your intended marketing strategy, depending on your goals. If you want to regularly supplement your income by selling prints, then consider dropping the price. Shop around for lower printing/packaging/shipping methods (without overly compromising on quality of course), offer limited editions , a “print of the month” (does this idea work? I’ve no idea), and schmooze your regular clients with entertaining email updates and access to private “exclusive” web site images (Stephen Haynes does this wonderfully and he doesn’t do too badly in print sales I suspect.) Plus please do consider selling smaller prints. Small canvas b+w photographic prints really sell well over here in the UK, because they are perceived as “fashionable art” (I’ve no idea if this is the “in-thing” in the States as well.)

If you think I’m talking out of my ass again, then I guess you have to ask yourself what your priorities are? Do you want the occasional high-value sale to a wealthy collector, and your name to remain relatively unknown, or do you want to opt for selling cheaper prints to ordinary everyday mortals (like me) and thus increasing your (marketing) exposure? Surely you are more likely to be more well-known in the long-term, if you pile 'em high and sell 'em cheap now?

If you sell lots of smaller, inexpensive prints to regular devoted fans who collect your art because they love it, just think about how many of your photographs will be “out there” after say, five years? How much more successful will you be?

What use is being posh, obscure and exclusive if no-one can afford to buy your work?



Ooh, I've been waiting for over a week to show these images of devoted couple Syd and A.J. from last week's steamy shoot. (A lot of fun, and really great piccies too - thanks guys!)

Photography in a recession

This is written with my accountant’s hat firmly bolted to my head. Try to read all of this please. No quitting. It’s important.

This will be the second recession I’ve seen in my lifetime. The first one was in the 1990’s and wound up with us having a shed-load of negative equity on our flat ("apartment" in U.S. speak) which took years to pay off. That flat was our debt pile. Rich and I were young and foolish, it was our first property, and we remortgaged and borrowed heavily to make it look like our dream home. I vividly remember our black bathroom with gold-plated bath taps. Holy crap, we had bad taste back then.

So here we all go again. Shortly we enter the “bust” part of the boom/bust cycle. Not feeling the pain yet? Don’t worry, you might have another six months of feeling flush with cash, but feel it you will. The wheel turns, and always spins back to the beginning. Nothing changes. Life just repeats itself endlessly in infinite cycles. The world will live to see another boom, but in the meantime, how do artists and photographers survive the next few years? With the rise of the internet and the rise of the cheap digital camera, the rise of freely available online photography, free software, free stock photos, even free porn, how will artists and photographers (of whatever genre) continue to make a living?

Now I’ll side with Jimmy D’s excellent article, and say they won’t. Those of us who are self-employed, and rely on photography either as our main or supplementary income, are going to suffer horribly in the next few years. There’s no chance now of Fluffytek going completely professional. Rich reckons the best he could ever manage is semi-pro. He can maybe earn a little on the side from photography via the occasional private portfolio, but he could never do this full time because the market is simply no longer there. We could sell pretty prints of course, but making your money back takes a long time. Equipment and studios cost a lot, and UK model fees have increased about 40% in the last year alone (either the inflation figures are wrong, or models have suddenly become very hungry.) TFCD models are of course the obvious solution to the latter problem, and although free art models appear to be plentiful in America, in the UK they are decidedly rare jewels. And considering the rise in the number of internet photographers, models can pick and choose, and may well (quite understandably) go where the money is, ignoring the quality of the photographer.

In the end, it all comes down to money. Everyone has to eat after all. But if the general public are economising and not able to afford your services, and collectors are hanging onto their cash because their jobs are in jeopardy and they have to feed their families, then without your photographic passion actually funding itself, you’re going to be hard-pushed to rely on your art to pay the bills, and you simply won’t have the money to pay models.

So what now? Do you give up art and become a plumber? (Always a lucrative profession in the UK as decent plumbers are very hard to come by.)

Well, I think the priority should definitely be to add more strings to your bow. It may be that your art has to take a slightly lower priority than before, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up on it.



If you do decide to stick at photography or art as a source of income, then you should formulate a series of personally tailored strategies. Here is my Ten Point Action Plan (please feel free to add or subtract from the list):

1. Practise, practise, practise. In a recession, only the very best artists survive, and even they find it tough. Your work can’t be mediocre. It has to be outstanding, it has to be unique, it must stand out from the crowd, and your reputation must be flawless.

2. Barter with models more – don’t agree to the first price they charge. Beat them down a bit (fiscally speaking.) Don’t agree to the first price they quote, and try proposing a lower “all-in” price including travelling. Approach potential TFCD models and really work at booking them. If in doubt, rely in that all important male persuasion device, “charm.”

3. When you do shoot models, plan your shoot in advance as much as you can, practise lighting (Rich and I do this all the time), take less coffee breaks during the shoot, and really push your models to get the best out of them, particularly if you are intending to sell prints from the shoot. Your models won’t mind if they are genuine professionals – they will expect to work hard for their fee. And make sure your modelling release is in order. Get it checked by a lawyer if necessary.

4. Run teaching courses – always a lucrative little money-spinner if you have the time, although this is nigh impossible if you have a day-job like us. Consider providing Photoshop courses, lecturing, teaching at schools or colleges, or small tailored courses for leisure photographers – heaven knows there are an abundance of those around nowadays.

5. Compromise your principles and consider other genres. Yes I really did say that. Now I’m not proposing that everyone takes up shooting hardcore porn, largely because I don’t believe there’s a market out there for that either (too many videos and Red Tube nowadays. All the pornographers are going bust.) But you might like to think laterally for a bit. Consider other genres and a lower profit margin, such as landscape photographs for local calendars, putting on local exhibitions, collaborating with other photographers to run special events, pimping your prints, shooting private portfolios for couples, approaching magazines, even (*shudder*) bulk topless glamour piccies for 50 quid each for the lads’ mags. Whatever it takes.

I know one of our local photographers, an outstanding portrait photographer, is now reduced to going round local yummy-mummy craft fairs and charging £10 a time for quick portraits. Desperation indeed. Yes she has abandoned both taste and principles, but it’s a tough market out there. If photography is your income, you have to earn some money somehow. (I’ve used suggestions that are relevant to our little UK rural area – please do suggest as many other money-making ideas as possible. Yes they might be offensive to some, but this is reality.)

6. Advertise. Perhaps online (via Google Ads if you can afford it), fluff up your web site, get your Google search rankings as high as possible. Advertise in the local press, offer bargain lower-price offers to lure customers in (you can charge more later for extra prints or portfolio books), follow up all leads, network, make cold-calls. Do your research – whatever works for your genre and for your local area.

7. This one’s a no-brainer. STOP SPENDING MONEY. Make do and mend. If you are making a loss from your photography, then you cannot afford to use your plastic to buy that extra light, that big A3 printer, that groovy new scanner. And most importantly, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES BORROW TO FUEL YOUR ART, no matter how much you love it. IT IS NOT YOUR MONEY.

8. If your photography is not profitable, or at least breaking even over the year, then consider taking another job. This is the route we are currently going down. If you are self-employed like us, it is advisable to have your fingers in as many pies as possible. For example, I am going to take a deep breath and compromise my principles and actually try to sell some of this inane waffle that I sprout on here. I certainly don’t want to do it, but I have no choice. Bills have to be paid. Internet journalism beckons, no matter how much I hate the idea.

9. FACE REALITY. Be honest with yourself, no matter how hard this is. Draw up a list of how much you bring in, how much you spend, how much you owe, and then formulate a budget and STICK TO IT. Figure out just how much profit you made last year. And if it’s clear that your business (whether full time or supplementary) is never going to work out, rather than run up horrendous debts, be honest and get out before it takes you down with it.

10. Devise a long term survival strategy for the recession. A Five Year Survival Plan if you like. Everyone has different skills they can sell. Take a deep breath, summon your inner muse, and take some action. Start thinking and innovate. Stop wallowing in self-pity and actually DO SOMETHING.

Lastly, please don’t think, “Mmm. Nice post Lin, quite interesting. A bit boring but some good points.” And then treat this as a mildly entertaining read and promptly forget it.

I have given up five hours of my life to write this.

Why? Because it’s IMPORTANT DAMMIT!

If you don’t formulate a plan now, and actually ACT on it, how exactly are you intending to survive the next five years?



Images are of U.S. model Clayre KcKinnen.

A Perfect Storm

At the high risk of annoying my beloved Don, I must regretably report that Morgan Stanley is the first bank to issue a full blown recession alert for the US, warning of a "perfect storm" for consumers as the housing crisis spreads.

In a report "Recession Coming" released yesterday, the bank said the credit crunch had started to inflict some serious damage on US companies, resulting in a sharp slowdown in business investment. It predicts that the Fed's interest rate cuts are too little, too late, and that a recession is inevitable.

The "R" word makes Don and I argue. Oh dear. I really do hope that his fluffy economic view of the future is right, for all our sakes, but for now I remain firmly Chicken Little. In the meantime ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.



I resolved not to blog about economics any more. Clearly I blew it.
Here's Lou-Lou, ready to beat us pessimistic economists into submission.

Property Porn

I don’t know about in the States, but the primary topic of conversation at dinner parties (or in fact at any gathering in the UK lasting longer than ten minutes) is the housing market.

The British are completely obsessed with property prices, even more than the weather. Of course, like the US, we are headed for a house-price crash in about a year‘s time, so everyone is thinking about selling their house and downsizing before the shit really hits the fan.

So Rich and I are tentatively looking for a new abode. Although we live in a beautiful spot, there are a number of reasons we need to move. Closer to our kids’ school would be perfect, but a frighteningly expensive option (house pieces double in and around the city, and we need to decrease our mortgage, not the opposite.) Closer to our favourite coffee shop would be pretty good too (high priority when considering moving.) But the primary reason for relocation is now the photography. As Art slowly and insidiously wheedles its way into our daily lives, we NEED more creative space.

Because we live in the middle of nowhere, renting bigger studio space is not an option, nor is outdoor shooting unless you’re both brave and foolish (Big Brother is watching everywhere.) So we are challenged with moving somewhere cheaper, but still handy for the train (kids go to school by rail), and with a larger day-job office and studio.

This is rapidly becoming Mission Impossible, and I am spending every spare waking moment on property search web sites or scouring local newspapers for potential nekkid-chick-pads in which my dear Mr Fluffy can explore his …um …art. Because my other yummy mummy friends are also on the property hunt, we ladies talk about houses constantly, to the exclusion of all else.

I am completely obsessed of course, and am driving Rich utterly crazy with my studio lust. Many young women eye up dishy young men when they pass them in the car. I eye up dishy-looking commercial buildings. Sadly, I’ve never been known to salivate over young, pert male buttocks, but instead I drool over old abandoned barns, big factory buildings, revolting run-down farmhouses with wrecked outbuildings. Anything I can possibly fantasise about converting into shooting space. There’s nothing that makes my pulse quicken and my meter rise like the glimpse of a provocative and tantalising ye-olde-warehouse. Who cares about the looks? It’s the personality of my lover that counts. He has to be really big, with room for me to expand into him, dress him up, play with him, fill him up with my wildest longings.

Yes, I’m still talking about houses. Definitely NOT about the hunky young, curly-haired Orlando Bloom look-alike who works at the local bank and keeps asking me if there‘s anything he can do for me. (Tip for young men: Never EVER ask a randy middle-aged nude model if there’s anything you can do to her, unless you want to wind up very, VERY scared.)

But no, I can definitely resist Orlando, just not the forlorn, unloved and wrecked old barn I’ve fallen for with its door hanging off, and a Christmas tree on the side. Damn, he’s cute. And he’d be so gorgeously satisfying to toy with and explore to his deepest depths. Ah! Sweet desire! If only I had the money!

Alas, houses are sexier than men. Ask any middle aged woman with a crazy gleam in her eye, and I’ll bet you next month’s wages it’s a house project which has put that sparkle there, not her sexy young bank clerk (bless his cotton socks.)

Of course I realise that the perfect studio is a mirage - a sexual utopia which isn’t real, but exists only in my wildest fantasies. But I don’t give a hoot. I am addicted. I must have my prize, or perish in the attempt. The nature of addiction is that the sad old fool carries on lusting, regardless of the consequences.

So you middle-aged guys just carry on shooting young nekkid chix who have no interest in real-estate whatsoever. Just leave us old laydeez to our online property porn.



Let me introduce you to my latest desire, the Object of My Obsession.

It would make a brilliant studio - it just needs a little TLC and a new snazzy studio name which really sums up what our photography is all about.

A name such as……

Pop!

No not the famous fashion magazine. I’m talking about the sound made by the overly pumped-up art market, which finally burst last week and farted around the room like a rapidly deflating balloon.

Art is just another bubble. Prices in the art market have shot up much higher in recent years, in a similar way to yours and my favourite asset class – the housing market. The Financial Times has estimated that the Mei Moses All Art Index has risen 15.5% a year on average for the last ten years. As I reported a few months ago, we have seen some truly spectacular prices achieved for art. This is partially due to the humongous bonuses awarded to rich bankers and hedge-fund managers. Indeed it’s not just foreign billionaires who have viewed art as a valid method of investment. Up until now, it didn’t even matter if you liked the work of art you were purchasing - this was completely irrelevant. As long as it was by somebody famous, or even better, someone who MIGHT be famous one day, then it was snapped up at exorbitant prices by practically anyone. Art collecting has always been a valid investment method, until now.

The rot set in last week, when a highly publicised New York art auction went horribly wrong. The sale earned $270m, far below the pre-sale estimate of $401m. Poor ol’ Vince (van Gogh) failed to sell his wonderful landscape “Wheat Fields” for the required price tag of $35m. In fact the poor (dead) chap couldn’t sell it at all. Even the late Pablo Picasso couldn’t sell four of his paintings. Twenty of the seventy-six lots didn’t sell at all. And as for Sotheby's, well I am wincing in sympathy for them as they had to pay the owners a fixed guarantee on the lots (even if they didn’t sell), which was estimated to cost them around $240m. So their shares promptly fell for two days running, wiping a third off their value. Despite Sotheby's putting a brave face on things, that had to hurt pretty bad. They must be dreading this week, when they host their big New York contemporary sale. Fingers crossed, eh?

So what the hell happened last week? Two words - Credit Crisis.

Art investment is just another example of the boom ‘n’ bust cycle. With sub-prime still wrecking the US economy, and the UK about to follow suit, hedge-fund managers are not in the mood to spend their remaining cash on over-priced art which is costly to look after and insure. When people (even rich people) see prices falling, they suddenly lose interest in that class of asset, even if it is supposedly cool to be seen to own famous works of art. After all, having a famous painting or photograph on your wall when your posh buddies come round for a beer, isn’t going to be much to shout about if all your friends secretly think, “Blimey mate, you paid HOW MUCH?! Are you an idiot or what? Didn’t you know the art market has gone to the dogs?”

So my professional recommendation, as your trusty international nekkid accountant, is:

If you are an artist or photographer who sells his work, buckle up. It’s gonna get hairy after Christmas, so expect your collectors to disappear into the mist and your print prices to tumble forthwith…

If you are an art collector who has invested for the short term (and you are not deeply emotionally attached to the fancy piccies on your wall):

Sell! Sell! Sell! While you still can.




Sorry. Must stop blogging about economics. Force of habit, I’m afraid.

Here’s Clayre McKinnen – I really like this pose.

Bullshitting for money

I’m about to test my new-found ability to write, as I have been given the joyous task of re-writing our day-job web site. Rich (a very competent technical writer himself) is completely re-vamping the main web site, and wants a more “human” aspect to it. He wants it to “flow”, whatever that means.

It also has to look whizzy, and be full of catchy marketing-speak. It has to sell our next version of software, and thus put food on our table, pay our mortgage and the kids’ school fees, and of course, pay for all those gorgeous models whom Rich is intending to shoot for the rest of this year (New piccies in two weeks! At last! Hurrah!)

Your web site defines who you are. It IS the company. If folks don’t like the layout, the “look and feel” and the actual narrative (particularly on the front page) then people won’t even bother downloading the software, let alone buying it. I have to wow potential customers, lure them in, make them realise that this widget (sorry, I mean software) is exactly what their organisation needs to make them more efficient, dazzle them, persuade them to part with their hard-earned cash.

No pressure then.

In order to do this, Rich says I have to be “concise”.
Yikes!!!
I don’t do concise.
I do “waffle”. Indeed I am the queen of waffle. I have a background in law and accountancy…verbose is my middle name (well actually it’s Caroline, but that’s close enough). So in effect, I have to turn against and deny my very nature, in order to produce something remotely suitable. So I’m spending the next few days researching other companies’ groovy web sites, and then being inspired by (i.e. imitating) their literary art.

Rich says I have to make the customers feel “warm and fuzzy”.
I have many ideas about this. In particular, I still think we’ll make more money if we stick “free nude wallpaper” on the day-job web site, or provide nude backdrop “skins” to our client software on users’ computers. Tens of thousands of users would see our nude images. Bet that would make them feel warm and fuzzy.

No-one else has thought of this super-groovy idea. We’d knock out our competitors in one sweep. Of course, we might leave ourselves open to litigation from disgruntled bosses who find their employees drooling over nekkid chix instead of working, but it’s a gamble I’m willing to take. Unfortunately, for some reason, Rich does not think this is a good business idea. I think it is a stroke of marketing genius. We are arguing (sorry, I mean “discussing”) this and other rather batty concepts.

And of course I’ll be having a bash at “groovy marketing speak”. I do suck at marketing, so this is going to be something of a challenge. A growth experience. Expect lots of snappy marketing phrases to start appearing on the blog shortly. I will be at one with my inner marketing-guru.

So I’ll be blogging a bit less in the next few weeks, because all my creative juices (and let’s not go there) will be poured into producing the greatest work of art of all…..

Profit.



Kate, who definitely "flows"