Writing on photography

The Beat Goes On: Photobook Bristol 2016

I’ve just returned from a weekend at Photobook Bristol, an informal congregation of photobook makers, publishers, designers and enthusiasts who gather in the city each year to hear talks, see books, share ideas, inspiration and woes, and to generally just party (it’s a great opportunity to see how photography’s finest perform on the dance floor, it turns out that Danish legend Krass Clements has some serious moves on him). It’s also a great place to catch up with far flung friends, see what they are working on, what get a sense of what work might be next to explode into the photography world. Despite my mounting misgivings about the pseudo-revolutionary hype around them, photobooks clearly remain a capable and relevant platform for disseminating exciting work, and this was really evidenced by the number of important names in photography who were speaking at the event, ranging from Susan Meiselas to Laura el-Tantawy. It is needless to say a rather questionable activity to attempt to judge a huge and international field of publishing based on one festival since all such events have their predilections and prejudices, but I feel I ought to at least attempt to summarise a few of the trends in what was discussed.

Perhaps one of the most notable things, and one which underpins many of the other discussions had over the weekend is that the conflict between form and function remains alive and well. It seems that the photobook remains closely aligned with the exquisite artist’s book much more so than more mass produced forms of trade or consumer book, and that continues to create tensions between the aspirations often held for a book and the reality of what it is able to do. It was interesting to hear discussions taking in different generations of photobook makers (notably a discussion between Susan Miselas and Oliva Arthur chaired by David Solo) where there were noticeable similarities over time but also changes print run, design, form and more, trends towards smaller runs and more complex design. Another interesting talk came from Yumi Goto of Reminders Project where she discussed a series of books published by the organization and some of the approaches and techniques used. Interestingly she referred to the number of copies published of each book not as an edition of say, 45 books, but as 45 editions, a linguistic subtlety which seemed to nicely reflect the fact that photobooks are still often rather unique objects which can incorporate some quite handmade, unique elements even when they reach larger print runs. I saw relatively few books over the weekend which really eschewed a fussy form (whatever happened to print on demand?) and it seems in this ever more competitive world that is less and less an option. On this topic a breath of fresh air came in a talk from designer Ania Nalecka who cautioned photographers against over design or complex design divorced from the meaning of their work.

Another issue often discussed was the question of the photobook’s relevancy and accessibility to wider audiences. There was much discussion of how the book can push beyond the niche of devotees and those wealthy enough to buy what remains essentially a luxury item. This is clearly related to the previous point in some respects, since design remains closely connected to the issue of cost, with more complex designs invariably demanding costlier production processes. There are of course exceptions, Craig Atikinson’s Café Royal Books being the most obvious representative of the alternative model, and Craig marked reaching the landmark of 300+ publications with a talk at the festival. Another interesting talk came from Julian Germain, discussing amongst other things the free citizen produced newspaper the Ashington District Star which he helps to organise and edit. The issue of relevancy and availability is also linked to other issues, for example distribution (a word my spellchecker perhaps rather aptly wanted to change to ‘devotion’). The fantasy of photobooks appearing for sale in supermarkets which I recall being aired at the previous year’s festival remains out of reach, but it remains a worthy aspiration. At the same time there were some interesting talks from a number of people who are comparatively new to photobooks, including an interesting collaboration between Mark Power, poet Daniel Cockrill and designer Dominic Brookman to produce a hybrid book aimed at poetry and photography enthusiasts. It was also a thrill to hear from the veteran Ghanian photographer James Barnor, who has published the first book of his work at the sprightly age of 87. He modestly prefigured his talk by saying he wanted to speak little and leave plenty of time for questions, because if a dinosaur came back to life then he imagined people would have plenty of things they might want to ask it.

Connected to the above, the issue of making out of prints books available in alternative and more accessible formats was also something I often found came up in the conversations between talks. It’s something I’ve always been keen on and have done with a few of my publications which are no longer in print. During the weekend I chatted with a few people about this including with Andrea Copetti of Tipi Bookshop about this and we had an interesting dialogue weighing up the pros and cons of making PDFs of unavailable books available versus offering high resolution videos of the physical books. I came down more on the side of the former, he on the latter, but clearly both have advantages and disadvantages and both succeed and fail at representing the nature of a physical book in different ways. The thing that I think most of the people I discussed this with agreed on was that small, closed editions and artificially unattainable books only really benefit collectors and perhaps sometimes publishers, not photographers and audiences. Solutions are much needed and having better opportunities to see and understand the seminal books which have come before can only benefit the vibrancy of photobook making. Certainly as a teacher there is a list of books both contemporary and classic which I would love to be able to show my students and which I think they would learn much from, but which are unfortunately impossibly rare. To some extent I sense that many of the issues that remain troubling with regards to the photobook stem from that prefix ‘photo’ and some of the most exciting books I saw and heard about over the weekend were those where the photographic element is almost secondary to the book fulfilling some other function, whether as strange documentation, journalistic investigation or something else entirely. I’ll be picking up on some of these titles in more detail on Disphotic very soon. In short the photobook remains alive and well but by no means completely resolved. There remain plenty of rather existential questions about the book that it’s more reflective adherents need to continue to discuss and address.

(Critical transparency: There are so many potential conflicts of interest here – ranging from the fact I’ve at spoken at previous incarnations of Photobook Bristol, to my having written an essay for Cafe Royal Books – that I would hardly know where to start with listing them. Suffice to say that if you that think I’m irredeemably corrupt as a critic then these attempts at disclaimers probably don’t help much (but at least unlike most critics I make an attempt at them.) Also my attendance at this event was supported by London College of Communication, University of the Arts London’s Continuing Professional Development fund.

About the author

Lewis Bush

Lewis Bush works across different media and platforms to make structures and cultures of power visible. He has exhibited, published, and spoken about his work internationally, is acting course leader of MA photojournalism and documentary photography at University of the Arts London, and runs workshops from his studio in London. From September 2020 he will be an ESRC funded PhD candidate at the London School of Economics researching automation's impact on visual journalism.


  • A very interesting piece. Regarding the accessibility of photo books, I am lucky enough to be published by a small German book outfit, Galerie Vevais, who make wonderful designs which complement the photographs within. Their large-format Werkdruck series is hand-made, the photos printed on real photographic paper, and the run limited to 300 copies per title. Since these books are obviously rather expensive, the owner, Alex Scholz, is also republishing them in reduced paperback format at a very friendly price – a good move all round, I think.

  • I think it’s really, really important for the authors (photographers?), publishers and consumers of these things (assuming they are different — read on), to acknowledge that historically, the vast bulk of photography that has been consumed, has been cheaply reproduced: think newspapers and magazines. And now digitally.

    So the “photobook” is certainly an anomaly that is the opposite of a mass-distribution medium even if it (ironically?) sometimes co-opts the look of cheap reproduction.

    It is possible for virtually anyone, anywhere in the world, to view photographs in all their high-resolution, hdr glory online, and generally-speaking, for free. You can even if you so choose, curate and print your own “photobooks” from all these gazillions of free photographs, a great many of which are of breathtakingly superb technical quality, even if aesthetically, they’re a bit of a dog’s breakfast.

    So maybe I’ve got this all wrong, but I wonder the prime market for these things is other photographers, rather than reaching any wider audience?

  • We see rumblings of what I consider the future at these things, but I think we’re still seeing people clinging to the past.

    In the past, the media, including book publishing, was controlled by a small handful of men. The “world” was pretty small. The media is now fragmented, and the “world” is now pretty much everyone on the planet, which is itself more populated.

    This means that the model of “success” as being defined as doing something of global reach is pretty much dead. It’s no longer about getting a book deal with one of the majors, it’s no longer about trying to make sure your name is in front of 90% of the people in the “world” who might be interested.

    Now it’s about finding small, local (internet-local, not geographically local) markets. Publishers don’t want to talk to you until you’ve got an audience anyways, so why talk to them at all? Sure, they’ll give you a small multiplier on your already existing audience, but they’re going to take more of the money, too.

    A million artists all screaming at the whole world “NOTICE ME” is cacaphony. A million artists talking quietly to a few dozen people “near” them is a vast world of beauty and art.

    This limited run, hand-worked, etc etc book from larger players is just them aping what the DIY working artists have been doing for a while now, and are doing more and more of. Make your book, put it out there, find your audience. Ignore those guys in suits who would really like to skim 40% off the top because they happen to own some presses and a rolodex.

  • All interesting topics. As a major collector I wonder if most all of these developments haven’t arisen directly from market demand itself though. I had thought the the smaller print runs and more complex books primarily arose because of larger print run books not selling well or burdening the publishers (and not just as a pathway for the young & less notable to still make a book and forge a path for themselves). I know my purchases heavily prioritise the small print runs and more collectible editions. If these were to simply disappear, I can assure you I would not be spending an equivalent amount on larger print run books that will be on the market for many years at a time.

    I’n not sure I see the current trends in photobook making as particularly problematic, though I’m not intimately involved with it either and yes, do identify as a “collector”. As you’ve somewhat made reference to, the market for those small handmade books can be a different market than for say your typical Mack book. They may overlap, but eliminate one or the other and you will see a smaller market share in the end.

    Also, similar threads are playing out in all the different industries involving the media & arts. We live in a world where expenditures on media & tangible objects is declining across the board and with expenditures on “experiences” increasing. That trend shows absolutely no signs of slowing down. I think there is certainly a clear demand for books to be small unique experiences and that we’re probably just finding ourselves in a situation where that part of the market is actually increasing spending and driving the current trends.

    • Joel,

      You define yourself as a “major collector” of photobooks, and I’m very curious about why, and what lengths you go to, to “prioritise the small print runs and more collectible editions”. Do you travel extensively to book fairs, do you purchase photobooks online, sight unseen (apart from digital previews)?

      What drew you to collect photobooks in the first place? Do you have prior (/ongoing) involvement in photography, as a photographer and/or collector? Do/did you collect other things?

      How important is the photographic element in your collection? I know a number of photobooks utilize photography as an adjunct to various aesthetic explorations in e.g. typography, page layout, extending to paper and cover weights, textures, embossing, die-cutting &ct.

      Also, many contemporary photobooks are used to showcase idiosyncratic and revivalist technologies, which I think reflect a pragmatic anxiety about market differentiation, as well as existential questions about individuality in an anonymizing digital world.

      Is there an aspect of photography that is common in your collection (topical/cultural/geographic/technical), or do you seek a wide variety of new/old concepts and production methods?


Writing on photography