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There’s no room in this business for cynics.

Ambassadors of Love

Sure you love photography … but then this whole business is about love.

Love and other emotional drivers — like the desire for connection, significance, family pride, and the human need to remember and be remembered.

My Dad wanted a photo of my mother to fit in the breast pocket of his battle tunic in North Africa. Eighty years later I still have it.

They married after the war. We have a few formal group photos. All us kids can do is try and judge what happened and how they felt from the self-conscious looks on their faces. There were precious few other cameras there, so we have to take what we can get.

When Prince Charles married Diana Spencer the crowds wanted a kiss on the balcony, and got their shot. The monarchy expected images to record the grandeur of the occasion. Both got the photos they wanted.

The only way to know what’s driving your clients is to get to know them. Find out what they want and give it to them.

A mother’s love for her child kicks in when it’s born and she can hold it in her arms.

Your clients will love their photos too, but only when they can hold them.

By then, hopefully, both parties will understand that this is much more than a business transaction.

It’s not about you

It’s not about you, and it’s not about your camera.

It’s about the people in your viewfinder.

Your photography is just the means to an end. The end is to capture their memories and tell their stories. You use images to that end just as writers use words and singers use music.

Don’t get sucked in by photographers telling each other they rock. You want your clients to say that, and to prove it with their wallets.

Doing what you love

Yes, I met a photographer who said he got into it for the money.  

I also know people who left excellent careers in the law and merchant banking for photography. Or got a redundancy cheque and decided now’s the time.

Photographers love photography, which can be a problem.

The first lesson they teach entrepreneurs is, don’t fall in love with your product, because it blinds your business judgment — you could dedicate your life to polishing a skill or creating a product that no one wants to buy.

Actually at Queensberry we know how that can feel.

One of our mentors had some advice for Stephen and me: There are plenty of money streams out there, he said, and all you have to do to succeed in business is dip your cup into one — I don’t understand why you guys don’t just do that instead of trying to invent something new.

Well, we love our business, that’s why.

You need to treat the business you love the same way you treat the family you love.

Understand it’s your job to take care of it, to help it thrive.

So, first, accept you’re in business.

Second, understand that making a profit is as much fun as taking pictures.

Look at the broad smiles on the faces of the people who’ve worked it out, but don’t assume that everybody has.

Love and trust

Love is an overused word.

I love my wife, I love my family, I love my friends, I love our business, I love eating Marsala Dosa at Ras Vatika.

You love photography.

People can be cynical about business transactions, which can be quite distressing when you love what you do.

You need your clients to let their guard down and show a little love back. They won’t do it if they don’t trust you. And they won’t trust you unless you show them a little love yourself.

So open up!

That’s good advice if it’s real. Otherwise it’s a little creepy. As the say, authenticity is so hard to fake — a cliché but true.

Love your work

You love photography, and the people in the viewfinder love your work. That’s important because people will pay good money for what they love. Their budget becomes a hurdle to clear, not a fence to contain them.

Take me for example.

My laptop and briefcase were stolen.

I’m not the world’s most enthusiastic shopper, but after the initial anguish I got that little thrill of being able to acquire new stuff.

First, the laptop. Did I think about changing brands? Not on your life. I’d been lusting after a new MacBook Air. Watching them machine the aluminium unibody in the promo video was particularly sexy. Now I’m typing on it. It’s years old and I want a new one.

We fanboys say people work on PCs, they create on Macs. We think they’re beautiful.

I have my little rationalisations. Macs are good value ‘cos they come loaded with everything you need, but really I don’t know or care.

I know the insurance company paid, but I don’t care about the price either.

And guess what? The time when Apple nearly went broke was when the bean-counters took over and created the Macintosh LC. Excellent machines. Queensberry had several, but they were ordinary. And they say LC stood for “Low Cost”.

Second, the laptop bag. I wanted something cool to replace my corporate briefcase, so Heather and I traipsed around town with my beautiful new laptop looking for something better.

I could have paid a sixth or even a tenth of what I did. I could have bought something I quite liked for a third of the price I paid.

Did I? Not on your life. I bought what I really wanted, a soft black leather Jost satchel. Ten years later I still have it. Heather hates it because it looks ten years old.

Those aren’t earth-shattering or even particularly extravagant transactions, just a couple of the gazillion little buying decisions being made round the globe every minute.

Do you really think everyone settles for cheap? Or sensible? What’s hard is selling something for top dollar that people don’t actually like. As Johannes says, don’t do cheap, do valuable. Get a reputation for doing it. Keep on the sunny side of love.

Don’t assume people will pay extra to everybody but you.

The Honeymoon Period

Nigel was working at Queensberry when he got married. It was around the time I wrote something about the importance of selling a wedding shoot as a two-stage process: confirming the booking before the wedding and finalising the sale afterwards. In other words while they’re still high on each other, and on your gorgeous photos of them.

Nigel was anxious to stress that the honeymoon doesn’t last forever, so you should get in on that first wave of enthusiasm!

I didn’t like to suggest that it sounded a little cynical coming from someone who’d been married for less days than I’d been years, but he was always a very level-headed guy.

And he’s right.

It will be quicker and easier to get people to come and see you, admire your photos, make decisions, choose their images, finalise their purchases, while they’re still buzzing about their wedding or portrait shoot.

They’re likely to buy more – and be less price sensitive.

They’re more likely to talk about you, and share their images and album.

Honeymoons don’t last forever. That’s true of weddings, it’s true of new governments, and it’s true of you.

And yet we can tell from the dates on the titles we mount in our albums that many people don’t get this. Often the event was months ago, sometimes even years. 

Four letter word

Yes, we’re in the love business. Nothing you can do about that. It’s about love, connection and pride.

Despite what the critics may think, there’s certainly room for your wit, good taste and skills in social photography — good photographers prove that every day — but there’s no room for cynicism.

What’s ironic is that you do need to make room for a commercial attitude. You love what you do, but you want to get paid.

You’d probably prefer that your clients didn’t read this, but I don’t think it’s embarrassing. Any more than your Doctor needs to be embarrassed that he’s in business and probably makes more money than you do.

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