Comments to previous posts were 100% updated as of 11:54 ET this morning
I wanted to add one more thought to yesterday's post. I worked as a professional photographer for about five years (now that I go back and count accurately—I always used to say seven years). And all through that time I honestly believed I had no idea where my next job was coming from, or how to go about getting it. At all times I felt like I was one step away from idle unemployment and maybe a step and a half from the poorhouse—completely exposed to danger, zero job security. Living from hand to mouth and day-by-day. I think I just said the same thing five different ways.
But you want to know what actually happened? I decided to quit working as a photographer for hire in late 1991 or early 1992. And the photography jobs kept coming in anyway. At first, to my surprise, my level of activity didn't even really change all that much. The phone kept ringing. I would explain to people that I wasn't a photographer any more, that I had quit doing that kind of work. Some accepted that at face value, but others tried to talk me into doing just one more job. A number of them offered me more pay. I guess it was because I was a known quantity. I was familiar.
In several cases, former clients offered to pay me double my old day rate! As I recall, a pretty standard day rate in the early '90s was $500—in my circles in D.C. at least. I knew a few people who charged $750, and knew of a few people who charged $1k or more. (I did know one of them—I assisted a studio advertising photographer full time for six months, and his day rate was $1,250.) Of course there were many photographers in New York City who charged $1k and up, and some charged much more—the rumor was that Bruce Weber was turning down offers of as much as $50,000 a day to do jobs on his days off (that was double his day rate), and Avedon got $20,000 for the Vogue cover every month, which he could bash out without breaking a sweat—but the scene in D.C. was not nearly at the same level. I had been charging $350, which wasn't student rates but was on the lower end of things. So double my old day rate was $700 a day, and I couldn't say no to that. (That's $1,567 now, adjusted for inflation.) One client hired me four or five times at that new, higher day rate, and acted like that was just going to be our deal from then on. Each time I would explain that I really did intend to quit, and then, every time they called and dangled that money in front of my eyes again, I would take the job.
This is literally true, and I know what literally means: it was an actual solid year before the phone stopped ringing. That's how long it actually took me to quit.
So I shouldn't have felt so insecure. I had built up a network—a small, modest network, admittedly, but a network all the same—of people who liked my work and liked working with me, or who knew someone else who felt that way who was willing to recommend me. I actually had more job security than I realized.
Wish I had known that.
Then my son was born, and that upended my life for good. Six weeks after he was born in February of '93, I left D.C. for Chicago in a U-Haul truck with everything I owned in it, while my Aunt Mary, bless her heart, took infant Xander to Chicago by air. In Chicago I knew no one, professionally speaking. That's when I learned what it was really like to have no clients, no word of mouth, no contacts, no free-floating goodwill. I never had a clue how to rustle up even one job in that town, and no one there ever called.
Or rather, one person did. Fortunately, I had been writing for magazines for a while by then, and before I had been in Chicago for long I got a phone call out of the blue from the publisher of Darkroom & Creative Camera Techniques magazine asking me if I would interview for the job of Editor*. The late Joe Saltzer of SaltHill, a small company that made premium darkroom equipment, knew I was in Chicago, and knew I was at loose ends. He had recommended me. (Bless his heart too.) It was a stroke of great good luck—it was the only photography magazine in the Midwest. All the rest were in New York City or Los Angeles, and Shutterbug was in Florida at the time. I got that job, and stayed there for six years, 36 issues.
So I became a magazine editor, and that put an endcap my career as a working photographer, for good.
Mike
*The position should really have been called Editor-in-Chief, but the publisher refused to let me use that title because I didn't have a staff. I wasn't in charge of anyone. I shared marketing, advertising, circulation, production, and graphic arts / typesetting departments with the company's other publications, and I had access to a copyeditor who worked from home, and I had a roster of regular contributors, some of whom acted as informal advisors; but I put the whole magazine together by myself. My second cousin Mark worked for the late, great David E. Davis at Automobile magazine back then, and he told me in idle conversation at the lake that Automobile had a staff of 54. He asked me how big a staff I had, and I said, "you're looking at it." For a moment or two he couldn't believe it.
Original contents copyright 2024 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)
Featured Comments from:
Gary Nylander: "After I left the newspaper as a staff photographer in 2018 I found myself working as a freelance photographer for the first time in my life, a completely different ball game! You mentioned that the standard day rate in the early '90s was $500 a day; I would love to get that today. One of the first freelance gigs I got after leaving the paper was photographing landscape projects for an architectural landscape design company. They did big and small projects. They agreed to hire me for $250 (Canadian) a day. I thought it was a bit low but I needed the money. One day while working on this one particular project site of theirs, I was asked to submit a quote by another landscape business. The owner asked what my day rate was and I thought I would up my price a bit so I asked for $300 a day. The owner said it was too high and he would take his photos with his phone camera. I have had some good-paying jobs. However, I'm poor at self-promotion, so I struggle with freelance work."
Kirk: "I think you were underestimating the advertising rates back in the 1990s. Even in our quiet little backwater town of Austin, Texas, advertising photographers were charging a base rate per day of around $1,800, but that was in addition to usage fees, which were always added to the day rate. A portrait of a CEO for an annual report, with a five year usage agreement, could bring in a middling photographer around $5,000 for a day's work. A bit more nowadays. You kept saying a 'for hire' photographer which I interpreted, maybe incorrectly, to mean a 'work for hire' photographer which means you were giving away all rights for one day rate. Most ASMP members, and other successful photographers, make it a practice to charge a day rate to do the job and also a usage fee for a fixed time of usage and a fixed set of media the images would be used in.
"While the median income numbers for photographers seem to be (currently) around $50,000 per year the average number, when including advertising photographers, is much higher. In a good year here in a secondary market my peers were earning gross revenues of $250,000 to $300,000. My friends in New York were charging much more.
"Certainly, wedding and retail portrait photographers are at the lower end of the scale but still.... It was, and remains, a profitable business if one educates themselves about the business side. In fact, one Austin photographer even wrote a book about it that was made a requisite text for several of the nation's largest college commercial photography programs. It's called Commercial Photography Handbook: Business Techniques for Professional Digital Photographers, and even though it's dated it is still available on Amazon.com.
"It explains usage rights very clearly. And marketing."
Mike replies: I've heard of that guy.
It wouldn't surprise me if I got the numbers wrong, as I tend to have a bad memory for numbers. I'll ask around. But a couple of points: there were a zillion photographers in D.C., but they were mostly press photographers. There was very little commercial, studio, advertising, or especially fashion that was local back then. Art directors and other buyers had a distinct tendency to hire photographers from New York if they had any kind of budget, and that was something the bigger studios in D.C. (there were a few of those, but I've forgotten the names) had to fight against all the time. The guy I assisted for had a whole "canned argument" as to why people should hire him locally rather than going to NYC for their job. New York was cool, D.C. was considered parochial, at least as far as professional photography was concerned. There was a fair amount of commissioned magazine work done by local photographers though.
Also, I was trained as an art photographer and most of my friends and teachers were either art students or teachers at the schools and institutions in the area, so it was a somewhat different subset of people than just a general sampling of mainstream pros. Three of the four principals in the Paul Kennedy studio were Corcoran graduates, and Paul was a teacher at the Corcoran as well as a graduate. I had been mainly a teacher (part time and full time, college, high school, and continuing ed.) before I tried my hand at making a living doing actual photography.
I was using "for hire" as an alternative to "professional" because I'm reluctant to call myself a professional! Feels like hubris on my part. But I was indeed giving away all rights for the day rate, yup. I don't think I ever negotiated usage fees even once. If I had tried, I think most of the people I worked for would have told me to take a hike. And besides, most of the pictures I took were only of interest to the people I took them for, like that demonstration I mentioned where the six protesters showed up. As far as $5k for a CEO portrait...not me. I had a few jobs where I'd make $3k or $4k for a 2–4 day job, but those were few and far between, maybe three or four, no more than five a year, and never for just one photograph.
Karl Francetic (who was billing $1.6m/yr. in the early '90s and who eventually abandoned photography for finance) taught a seminar called "Photography Dollars and Sense," and he had a term he coined: "the $79k schmuck." He meant photographers who grossed $79k/yr. and thought they were making a living. One of his points was that when you bill $79k, you net $39k, and it's the net you have to look at. That was me, more or less, and probably a fair amount of the people I knew. I was actually proud of billing my $79k. My friend from Dartmouth who was a lawyer and who'd had to spend $5,000 on suits when he moved to town so he could look like all the other lawyers was making $80k/yr., and he put in a lot more hours that I did—my hours were limited by the jobs I could hustle, and they never filled up all my time.
UPDATE: I just had a long conversation with Paul, and he corroborated my figures. His day rate was $750 at that time, as I remembered. His hourly rate was $150 to $250 depending on the client. He did say that he was at the lower end of the market—he was also a photography teacher in a full-time degree-granting program, so he didn't do commercial photography full time.
He pointed out that the market for photography in Washington was very different from other places. Because there was no specific industry, it was harder for photographers to specialize—he noted that the work was entertaining, because it was varied—the subject of my first post on this topic two days ago—but that meant it was also inconsistent. You had to do all sorts of things. Paul also pointed out that different buyers paid very different prices. For instance, editorial work paid much less than advertising. But many photographers did both.
Paul did a lot of editorial at one time. There were (and doubtless still are) many thousands of associations in Washington, and in the '90s most of them put out some sort of publication or newsletter for their members. For years, a significant part of Paul's business was making little illustrations for articles in these association publications. So, for instance, there might be an article about currency exchange, and he'd make a little photograph of piles of currency on a balance scale; that sort of thing. Easy work, and low paying generally, but plentiful and steady. The early '90s was when royalty-free photographs became a "thing," and, abruptly, the bottom dropped out of that part of the business.
Paul also said that he considered perks of the job when he took work. Air Force magazine (now called Air & Space Forces magazine) didn't pay much, but sent him all over the world on a regular basis (he also did a studio still life with historical air force objects for the back cover of every issue), and gave him access to a variety of experiences he wouldn't have access to otherwise. For instance, on one job he sat in the bombardier's seats of both the "Enola Gay" and "Bockscar," the B-29s that dropped the only two atomic bombs yet used in warfare.
Before he retired in 2006, Paul had raised his day rate to $1,250. He's now 80, and wants you to know that he is still looking for ways to get into trouble.
Ted Davis: "That magazine, with you at the helm, David Vestal, Ctein, Bruce Barnbaum, and many others, made me a better photographer, and darkroom technician. I have selected articles from over the years saved in a three-ring binder on my bedside table. Thank you, Mike!!"
JOHN B GILLOOLY (partial comment): "I have seen many photographers who don't seem to really want to work 'full time.' They want to cherry-pick those 'great' assignments where they are being paid really well to shoot something they find rewarding. Those assignments do exist. And they aren't necessarily rare. But if you get intoxicated by them and decide you can bypass the jobs that are 'work,' you will most likely fail as a professional photographer. You need to be out there working. It makes you a better photographer. It makes you better at the business. Being on assignments gives you credibility to other potential clients seeing you work. Being busy allows you to have a true market value that is based on supply and demand—instead of you making up an arbitrary number. If you claim to be worth $10,000 per day but the market doesn't seem to be hiring you at that rate, you're just blowing smoke. If you are on assignment every day at $1,000 per day, the market is telling you to charge more. I'm not interested in hearing 'day rate' unless it's followed by 'annual revenue' and 'net profit.'"
Mike replies: Karl Francetic, in that class I took, put it somewhat differently. He said, what if you have a studio, and you have worked hard to establish an $850 day rate. One day you are sitting around the studio doing nothing, and have nothing scheduled for the day, and a man walks through the door. He has a small widget, and he needs a picture of it on a plain background, but he only has $50 to pay for it. Do you take the $50 and do that job?
The majority of the students in the class said no, but Karl said, of course you do! It's $50 more than you were going to make that day. Have a day rate as a starting point for negotiations, but you have to fit the client, the client's job, and your own situation. The bottom line is, make money when you can.
On the other hand, Paul talked about a situation in which a client to whom he had quoted an hourly rate wanted to buy only 15 minutes! But Paul would still have had to pack his equipment, lug it to the job, and take the film to the lab downtown afterward. Realistically, even that 15-minute job would take up half a day. He told that client no, he charged $150 per hour and had a three-hour minimum and that was that. A different client on one job wanted him to start work at 7 a.m., knock off at 1 p.m., then start up again at 5 p.m. and work till late. The buyer argued that he shouldn't be charged for the down time in the middle of the day. Paul said no, because he couldn't make any other use of a four-hour layover, so he charged the client for the four hours.