Ta Nea (People Inserts, 1999)
What they are and who reads them
The person in charge of sorting in a bookstore must find it very challenging when having to categorize a book with photographs, since more than half of the bookstore is filled with books based on photographs, without necessarily being classified under the photographic books section. This is a consequence of the position that photography has now taken in our culture as a primary support and often a substitute for the word in achieving specific goals.
In the midst of this confusion, we, like the bookstore clerk, must define the coordinates of the frame within which books that are characterized as purely photographic are included. Of course, all boundaries are relative, and many books could easily fit into more than one category. However, we are interested in their primary function, which is photographic, meaning the value and role of the photographs as images, not as supplementary information. In photographic books, the photos do not illustrate but constitute their content. Therefore, the main (and certainly not the only) commentary on photographic books should logically focus on the photographic weight of the images, with the positive or negative comments constituting photographic criticism. Unfortunately, until now, we have rarely had the pleasure of seeing such treatment from the viewers, journalists, and critics.
Deviations from this general direction of classification certainly exist, but the overall orientation does not change. These deviations are mainly due to three common (and related) phenomena. The first is due to the tactics that the publisher almost necessarily resorts to in order to increase sales, the most important of which is to promote the photographic book through the subject of the photos and not through the name of the photographer or the artistic content of the photos. The second consists of the fortunate coincidence that a book with photos, serving another purpose successfully, was made with the photographer's desire (and the consequent freedom granted) to include the photos in his personal work, making them with absolutely personal aesthetic choices. And the third, texts accompanying the photos in the book may take up a significant part, whether related or unrelated to the images, raising the question of whether the book is more for these texts or for the photos. In all three cases, the bookstore clerk (and we) must assess whether the book's intent and the significance of the photos advocate for its place in photographic literature.
I believe, along with the majority of photographers, that the best fate for a photo we would call artistic (or art photography, or creative) is to be included in a book. After all, the photographer has no other way to leave his mark on the history of this medium and art in general. Even if we consider photography as a message in a bottle seeking communication with a random receiver, this is still the most appropriate way.
In our country, we are fortunate to have very good printings of photographic books, and at prices that have begun to attract the interest of foreign photographers as well. Moreover, the photographic book is suited for an international career since the text, usually limited to a prologue and captions, can easily be multilingual. Nonetheless, publishing a purely photographic book is almost pure economic suicide. First, because all good photographic publications are very expensive and second, because they target a minimal audience. This is not only in our country but everywhere, considering that even books by famous photographers in America are usually not printed in more than two thousand copies. Thus, outside of a few cases of heroic publishers or those relying on mass circulation titles, photographic book publications are made with the photographer's money or with the help of a few, also admirable, sponsors. Obviously, books that sell well due to the subject depicted, despite having good artistic photos, are a fortunate exception or a commendable and forgivable cunning, but they do not address the broader problem. It is interesting to note that I myself, for the needs of my photographic teaching, have published three theoretical books of mine, which sold ten or even twenty times more copies than my photo albums. I would be ready to accept that the low sales of the latter are due to the indifferent quality of my photos, if the same did not happen with all the other books I know. However, these facts show that even the specialized audience is not accustomed to buying photographic albums.
For these reasons, I have avoided publicly judging the photographic publishing production in Greece, believing that every small, insignificant, or failed effort should be supported. However, in recent years this production has fortunately begun to intensify, and perhaps the time has come to start an accompanying critical discourse, not of course to create obstacles but to help identify the weaknesses and highlight the positive aspects of each book, informing the potentially increasing buying public. It will also be an opportunity to address photographic aesthetic issues that will gradually cultivate this audience. With great love for the photographers and great respect for their work, I will attempt this approach from the column that starts today.
For these reasons, I have avoided publicly judging the photographic publishing production in Greece, believing that every small, insignificant, or failed effort should be supported. However, in recent years this production has fortunately begun to intensify, and perhaps the time has come to start an accompanying critical discourse, not of course to create obstacles but to help identify the weaknesses and highlight the positive aspects of each book, informing the potentially increasing buying public. It will also be an opportunity to address photographic aesthetic issues that will gradually cultivate this audience. With great love for the photographers and great respect for their work, I will attempt this approach from the column that starts today.