Being a professional photographer is about more than just the exposure triangle.
I made a mistake today. Actually, if I’m being objectively honest, it wasn’t so much a mistake as technology failing me. But, regardless, I take the blame. Specifically, there is a particular client I’ve been trying to get my work in front of for years. Not days. Not weeks. Not months. Years. Through a bit of luck and a lot of networking, I was finally able to make contact a few weeks ago. I got the client’s info and traded a few emails about setting up a time to meet. I zeroed in on three potential options for meeting times and shot her an email. But I didn’t hear back. This is not unusual. Clients can be slow in responding. So, as usual, I made a note to circle back with her in two weeks if I hadn’t gotten a response.
Two weeks passed, and I still hadn’t heard anything. So, I went back into our original email thread to try and calculate the date I wanted to follow up, only to see that, lo and behold, she did reply! She replied two weeks ago. But, for some reason, I never got the alert in my inbox. So this whole time that I’ve been waiting for her to respond, she’s been waiting for me to respond. And, since—let’s be honest—it’s harder for me to get on her calendar than it is for her to get on mine, this little mishap may have thrown a wrench into an opportunity I worked very hard to obtain.
As I write this, I’m waiting for a response to my supremely apologetic message begging her pardon for the email mix-up. But even though such a misstep is more of a Gmail problem than me being irresponsible, and even though this type of mishap only happens to me maybe once every ten years or so, the end result is that I’ve left a negative impression with a client. That negative impression has nothing to do with my ability to take a photograph. It has nothing to do with my artistic voice or my ability to work with talent. But, in a game of inches, minor mistakes like that can have major consequences.
I used to intern for a very famous entertainment photographer, one of the best and most respected in the business, Art Streiber. I became aware of his work because I was also friends with a client of his, who, at the time, was in charge of photography for a major movie studio. When talking to my friend about Art, the first thing he mentioned wasn’t Art’s amazing lighting or deft touch with talent (both of which are easy to see). Instead, what my friend, the client, referenced first was Art’s unbelievable organizational skill, his leadership, and his professionalism. All the artistic skill was a given. You simply have to be next level as an artist to even get into the conversation. But it was his business acumen that set him apart and led clients not only to hire him but to hire him again and again.
Being a Virgo with OCD and a degree in Business Administration, organization and professionalism are sort of like no-brainers to me. It wouldn’t even occur to me to show up late for a shoot, not respond immediately to my emails, or handle my clients with any less professionalism than a suit-and-tie businessman going in for a bank loan. Presentation and professionalism matter. How you carry yourself off set and in meetings with clients is every bit as important as what you can do with a camera.
I remember I had an assistant once who was amazingly talented. Smart. Ambitious. Creative. She was always asking me for advice on how to get her work in front of the right people and advance her career, and I did my best to help her get ahead. Then, one day, I caught a glimpse of her inbox. She had close to 2,000 unread emails waiting in her inbox. Again, as a Virgo with OCD, the idea of 2,000 unread emails gives me hives. I can’t sleep correctly if I have a single unanswered email. Two thousand simply boggles my mind.
Seeing all those emails piling up in her inbox also gave me some insight into why she was often slow to respond to my own emails offering her employment as an assistant. It wasn’t personal. She was simply too busy putzing around with who knows what to take the time to sort through her inbox.
Now, if you happen to be reading this article instead of answering your own 2,000 emails, please don’t feel as though I am singling you out. I’m sure you have a perfectly good reason not to answer your emails. Or perhaps you, like me, just happened to have missed one email in a decade, and it happened to be the one from a big client. But, if you are simply procrastinating and not being as diligent with your responses as you could be, let’s play this scenario out in our heads.
There are way more photographers in the world than there are jobs. There are way more amazing photographers in the world than is possible for your brain to comprehend. Seriously, if you stop to think about it, you’ll just get depressed. Take my word for it. So, with that in mind, you have to realize that every client you have has a choice of hundreds, if not thousands, of photographers to choose from—most of whom can do the job just as well, if not better, than you. Again, not a subjective swipe at your skill level. Rather, I’m just pointing out objective mathematical facts. Being an amazing photographer, on its own, is not enough.
So, if a client is reaching out to you to bid on an opportunity, it is safe to assume that you aren’t their only option. If you are bidding against two other photographers, both of whom get back to the client within an hour, and you don’t respond until you feel in the mood to clean out your inbox, how do you think that will reflect on your level of professionalism? Can you really sit around and complain about not getting enough work when, for all you know, a great opportunity could be sitting in your inbox right now, but you can’t find the energy to respond in a timely manner?
Obviously, I’m harping on slow response time via your inbox. But that’s just one example. The other day, a producer friend of mine relayed a horror story about a campaign shoot she had lined up with a major client where, get this, the photographer never showed up for the shoot! The photographer wasn’t hurt or injured. By all accounts, they simply blew the whole thing off—no explanation—and the producer found themselves with cast, crew, clients, agencies, and six figures’ worth of production expenses, needing to call in a last-second replacement to photograph the campaign. To steal an acronym from the younger set, WTAF. I don’t know the photographer’s name and wouldn’t relay it if I did. But seriously, why would that client or any client ever hire that photographer again? Clearly, they didn’t respect the time and energy of their client, their crew, or the many other stakeholders who worked their butts off to put the whole thing together. That’s not cool or an example of you just being you. That’s an example of someone being a grade-A (insert profanity here).
Like most matters in life, the simple rule is to treat others the way you would want to be treated. And that boils down to respect. Don’t come strolling in late to a shoot just because you had a little too much fun the night before. Don’t treat people on set like you’re better than them. Trust me, you’re not. Be mindful of people’s time and offer them the kindness of a swift and efficient response in the same manner you’d like to receive in return. That’s not to say that mistakes won’t happen. I, for one, am still kicking myself for not being aware of that missed email two weeks ago. But at least I can take some solace in knowing that it’s not something I make a habit of doing.
Still, I know that the more professional I can comport myself in all matters surrounding the actual photo shoot, the more comfortable my clients will feel hiring me. The more comfortable they are with hiring me, the easier it will be for them to focus on the quality of my work rather than being concerned that I’m going to trip over the first hurdle. Creating a campaign is about being a great teammate. And, even if you’re the team captain, we’re all in this together.