BUYING FINE ART PHOTOGRAPHIC PRINTS
What’s a picture worth? Well, as the saying goes, it’s worth a thousand words. But that’s true only if the picture is worth talking about, worth looking at, even worth owning. A good photograph has meaning; it’s not just a snapshot, an encapsulated memory; rather, it can evoke more -- a thought, a feeling, an allusion -- something beyond its literal self. That’s the difference between just “a picture” and a photograph: a photograph is something you will hang on your wall. And it’s something you will talk about.
I don’t wish to range too far afield here, but I asked the question: what is a picture worth? The question is more than rhetorical, and not so simply answered. A flip reply, but ultimately not too far from the truth, is that a picture is worth whatever you’ll give me for it. On that basis, then, it’s my job to to convince you that it’s worth quite a lot! Instead I hope just to give you some good information mixed perhaps with a bit of opinion.
I love photography. I love the art of it, its history, what goes into it. I love its vast and largely untapped potential as an expressive medium: after all, it’s only been around for a century and a half. I love looking at the work of many of the greats, Ernst Haas and André Kertész, just to name two. I love the act of shooting, and I love sharing the best of my own work. I think my work is worth looking at. And, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I also think it’s worth owning. So let’s talk quality and value.
Kinds and Quality of Photographic Prints
Buying art as an investment is often risky and likely foolish. Buy it ‘cause you like it. That being said, a good deal of misinformation and outright deception pervades the world of art sales. ‘What is a fine art print’, ‘what does limited edition mean’, ‘what’s archival’ ... are just a few of the questions a buyer might have. I shall refer here strictly to photographic prints, given that serigraphs, true lithographs, and etchings, to name three, are all other means of producing fine art prints. So, with respect to photography, there are many different ways to produce a finished print. First there is the darkroom-produced print -- bearing in mind that there are many ways to produce a darkroom photograph, from the historical to the hallowed. That said, the basic process is essentially the same: an image retained in a transparent medium as a monochrome or color negative or positive (ie., slide), is projected in a darkroom through an enlarger onto light-sensitive paper, which is then chemically developed to produce the finished photographic print.
Until fairly recently the only significant competitor to the darkroom print was the offset lithograph, that is, the mechanical-press-produced image most often represented in magazines and posters. Many of these offset prints are of very high quality. Accordingly, often such reproductions of photographs, or even paintings, are sold as “limited editions”, despite that they are mass-produced and likely never even touched by the original artist. Now, with the advent of digital technology, other means of production, from color copier to high-grade inkjet printer, add to the profusion of photo print media. Such a print produced on a high-end inkjet printer is sometimes referred to as a giclée, helping to distinguish it from reproductions of another sort. Even the darkroom print may now be produced in hybrid fashion: bypassing the enlarger, the image is painted directly onto the photographic paper with laser-light from a scanned or original digital file.
The purpose of this brief exposition, then, is to inform the reader that there are many different ways to produce a finished photographic print, some better than others. The primary issues to consider in this respect are means of production, image-quality, and print longevity. Production methods can have an effect on the latter two questions, as some inks and dyes don’t last as long as others; and likewise, different paper media have varying life-spans. I’ll return to this matter momentarily. The central question in evaluating a print, of course, is image-quality. Not surprisingly, many factors come into play; but I would place primary among them image-resolution, tonal rendering and gradation, and, where applicable, color-fidelity.
Image-resolution in short means how sharp the image is, how much detail is rendered. Resolution is determined both by image-production, the taking of the picture, and by print-production, converting that image to a photographic print. In traditional photographic methods, two primary factors having an effect on image-making resolution: the quality of the camera lens (along with focus, plus aperture and shutter-speed settings), and the size and speed of the film being used: larger film-area means greater rendering capacity, while higher film-speed and its attendant larger grain-structure diminishes resolution. The digital world is analogous to film in that more megapixels mean more detail, while moving to higher ISO settings likewise tends to degrade resolution. At the print-production end, the central factor is to what extent the digital or film image is enlarged, as resolution diminishes with enlargement; but of course the quality of enlarger optics for traditional photography, or the detail-rendering capability of the inkjet or offset printer, also have an effect.
Tonal rendering and gradation merely means the degree to which details are visible throughout the tonal range of the print, from highlights to shadows. Are highlights washed out? Are shadow details muddy or even absent? Are contrast values pleasing, too harsh, or too flat? Is the overall tone of the print correct, too light, or too dark? Much of this is subjective, but a trained eye can discern a well-rendered print. Comparably, color-fidelity should also be true. “True” in this case is a somewhat misleading term. An uncorrected photograph taken indoors under tungsten lighting may be objectively “true”, but will have a distinct orange-yellow cast that most will find unpleasant. So with respect to color-fidelity, truth is usually a blend of objective values with subjective impression.
Print-quality, then, is the one factor that one should be able to evaluate directly. It’s right in front of your eyes. How that print was produced, in this respect, is irrelevant, for it is that visual result that counts. If it’s a beautiful print, whether made in the darkroom, by inkjet, or by offset, what does it matter? But, as noted, means of production may also affect print longevity, or even its intrinsic value, so it’s helpful to know how the print was made. Most posters, for example, are not made to last for years, much less decades. Many modern print-processes, whether darkroom or inkjet, can produce color prints that will last up to a century or more. Again, however, the buyer must be informed regarding the printing method being employed, as a print using inferior inks, dyes, or paper, or improper chemical processing in the case of a darkroom print, can begin to degrade in a matter of a few years. In such an instance, the buyer must rely on the competence and trustworthiness of the print-producer.
Archival Methods and Limited Editions
What are the archival methods needed to maximize print longevity? As just suggested, the industry standard for inkjet prints rendered on quality photo paper is now many decades. But naturally how that print is displayed will have an effect on that print’s longevity. Direct sunlight can quickly fade virtually any print media, its supposed archival qualities notwithstanding. So can fluorescent lighting. Protecting a print under glass, specifically UV-coated or museum glass, can significantly extend a print’s display life, but it’s still wise to minimize its exposure to bright light. Framing in general can protect a print: enclosing it within glass and frame protects it from the elements, dirt, fingerprints, bugs, and the like. Once again, however, not just any frame will do. An archival-grade print confined in a frame along with standard matting, chemical glues, and the like may not fare very well. The key term to use is archival, or museum-framing. All materials should be of neutral pH, and free of chemicals that may work on the print within the confined atmosphere beneath the glass. The best solution of course is to rely upon the expertise of a professional framer.
Finally is the matter of limited edition prints. First I will answer my own earlier question: what is a fine art print? My own definition is that it is any print produced for the sole purpose of display for its own sake. It’s not an illustration, documentation, or family portrait, though any of these can have artful qualities. It’s something you hang on your wall just because you like it. Lots of room for arbitrariness and subjectivity, but then that’s art, isn’t it? Given that, what is a limited edition print, and what establishes the limit? Risking a tautology, one may define a limited edition as an image printed in a strictly limited quantity. In traditional print-making, the limit is often a practical one. For instance, the etching-plate used to produce an intaglio print can be run through a press only a few dozens of times before it begins to show signs of wear. In order to maintain quality standards, the producing artist will consequently limit production to a set quantity before the plate is retired or destroyed. Regardless, by definition, a limited edition restricts the supply of images, which can potentially enhance the value of a given print. Limited editions are generally signed and numbered, eg., 21/250, meaning the twenty-first print of an edition of two hundred fifty; they are often also supplied with a document certifying their authenticity.
As just suggested, an image may have an arbitrary production-limit imposed upon it. Again, generally this is to enhance the value of individual prints, but accordingly may be seen as a marketing ploy. Some of the worst abuses in this regard come from the sale of offset reproductions of paintings to the uninformed buyer, marketed as “limited-edition prints”, when in fact they are little more than glorified posters. Despite being promoted as collectables, these have little hope of maintaining their value over the years. In comparison, photography, in my view, falls in a gray area with respect to limited editions. A true darkroom print, especially one produced by traditional means, does require artisanship on the part of the printmaker; and a negative or slide does not have an unlimited lifespan. On that basis, such a limited edition bears some legitimacy. But now, especially with digital files that effectively last forever, and inkjet printers that produce consistent quality at the click of a mouse, a limited edition may be a bit harder to justify.
For my own, I have recently decided to use this practice judiciously: I will limit an edition only in the case of an exceptional image, or in the case of my pyrometagraphs, a singular class of images. Another possibility would be the case where I commissioned a darkroom artisan, as this is not my expertise, to produce true photographic prints of one of my images. Frankly, the quality I can produce in my own studio on my own equipment is so good, and so durable, I don’t know I would ever do this again. Finally, another form of limited edition I am contemplating is in the case of mixed media: using photographic images as part of another piece. In other words, more goes into producing the finished piece than just producing the print, thus rendering it as one-of-a-kind or one of a small series.