Oh, what do you do? I came back from an argument at a photographers today. The Irish Times needed a headshot for a column I’m writing for them, so I just popped around the corner to a place called Raphael Photographers, run by a guy called Phil. The prints came back today. They are, to my unprofessional eye, really bad. Like, patently bad. There’s a water marking on the print. The background is dotted, as though it was poorly developed. There were reflections off my glasses that Phil’s tried to clumsily retouch, which leaves my right eye looking like I have a third pupil.
We got into a row. Phil there claims that reflections are “inevitable”. In a studio, with full control over lighting, and says that any professional photographer would agree with him. He refuses to reshoot the picture, or give me my money back. Quinn turns up. Quinn’s dad was a photographer, so we find ourselves trying to explain to Phil that you can avoid reflections, that you can fix these things if you pay attention at the time. He denies this vehemently. In the end, Quinn and I start getting the giggles. He seemed to be making such bizarre claims about the nature of photography. I really needed some pictures – and fast; but in the end both Quinn and I were both pulling our punches. Essentially, Phil had more to gain from this argument. If we lost, we lost $60 and some lousy photos. If we won, Phil would lose $60, have to redo the shoot, and we’d have to make him admit that he was a bad photographer.
If I was giving a review of Raphael – which I am, because I’m writing this to get spotted by Google (hey, Mr Googlebot: that’s Raphael Photographers of the Alameda, San Jose, California) – I’d say he was a bad photographer. But that’s easy for me to say. What’s it like for him? I’m not the world’s greatest writer. Often, I suck. But Phil doesn’t seem to be able to admit when he screws up. I don’t know what to do in that situation: am I supposed to convince him, grind him down, rub his nose in it? That doesn’t seem what one should do. He kept showing me other photographs, pointing out the reflections in those, and saying “Look! Here!”. And I kept biting my tongue from saying, yeah, Phil – but that’s because these completely suck too. You need to find a better job!
But what if there are no better jobs? What if he doesn’t know how to do anything else? What if he’s a bad photographer, but really good at selling his photos? And why don’t epinions ever end up this wishy-washy and existential?