Remember that time on Sex and the City when Carrie went to boot up her laptop and got Sad Mac? If you’ve never blown on a Nintendo cartridge or used a pencil to wind a tape cassette, you’re probably too young to remember Sad Mac (actually, you might also be too young to remember Sex and the City, in which case, thanks for making me feel ancient).
Sky replacements have long been standard practice in architectural photography. However, the existing tools to do so remain, in my opinion, somewhat haphazard. Some skies are an easy slam-dunk, capable of being replaced in a few clicks using something as simple as the Tragic Wand or Quick Selection tool.
A question that we receive at APA regularly goes something like this: I shoot predominantly real estate with a basic contract and would love to hear more about how established architecture and interior photographers went about creating and modifying their contracts.
You’re not alone.
How many times have you received an inquiry from a potential client that, in the first message, includes something along the lines of, “What are your prices?” or, “Can you please send your rate sheet?” When this happens, do you typically reply with a PDF that outlines your entire pricing structure, or perhaps refer them to a page on your website?
As I write this, locales throughout the world are in varying degrees of “stay-at-home” orders to combat the COVID-19 pandemic. Some of us are able to continue working, at least in a limited capacity, while others have found ourselves with time to catch up on housekeeping items like bookkeeping and copyright registrations.
There are two categories of photographers in the world—those whose work has been infringed, and those whose work will be infringed. Sooner or later, it’s almost certain that it will happen to you. You’ll be casually scrolling through your social media feeds, or maybe researching a potential client’s website, when suddenly, you pause in disbelief as the reality sets in: your work has been used without your prior knowledge or permission.
Although we’re required to wear many hats as photographers, we tend to think of ourselves as artists first, treating other roles as secondary, with sales often regarded as only an afterthought. The truth is that we are, first and foremost, salespeople. Photography is our trade—sales is our business.