11 Tips on Making a Photography Book with Bruno Ceschel

Beautiful collection of self-published books
Beautiful collection of self-published books

There is no better time in history to be a self-published photographer. There are so many great options out there— like Blurb (print on demand), and even getting books printed in China (it seems most publishers are printing overseas, which is much more affordable, with great quality).

In the past, there have always been lots of “gatekeepers” — people who prevented you from achieving your dreams. These gatekeepers are the editors, publishers, and media moguls who control the stream of information. They had all the power whether your work would be shown or not as an artist.

Now with social media (and modern technology), the tables have flipped. As photographers, we no longer have excuses for not publishing a strong body of work, due to financial constraints or outside forces. What matters the most now is the quality of our work (and effective marketing to get the word out).

The History of Photography Books

To start this article, I wanted to talk briefly about the history of photography books, especially the “artist book.”

In the past, an “artist book” was traditionally an object made by the artist. They were generally hand-made, hand-stitched, and made in very small quantities. An “artist” book could be a series of drawings stitched together or a compilation of images edited and sequenced by a photographer.

Original images for Henri Cartier-Bresson's "Scrapbook"
Original images for Henri Cartier-Bresson’s “Scrapbook

The key thing to note was that the “artist book” was an artwork in itself. Meaning, the book wasn’t just a physical object to hold the photos (or images). The book itself was an artwork.

When did this shift?

In the 1960’s, the “pop-up” movement changed how art was produced and conceived. We all famously know of Andy Warhol, who would screen-print tons of his images, and sign them in mass (sometimes he even had his workers sign on his behalf).

Andy Warhol, Marilyn Diptych, 1962, © The Andy Warhol
Andy Warhol, Marilyn Diptych, 1962, © The Andy Warhol

One of the first photographers to embrace this new shift of seeing a publication or a book as a “consumer good” was Ed Ruscha, who published “Twenty six gasoline stations” in 1962 (see the book preview here). The concept of the book was quite simple: he shot urban landscapes of gas stations from Oklahoma to LA, and made a book out of them.

ed_ruscha_twentysix_gasoline_stations_1963

But the shift that Ed Ruscha did was that he mass-printed the books. No longer was the “artist book” a rare and one-of-a-kind object. It was now a commodity, which could easily be printed, shared, and consumed.

Images from "Twentysix Gasoline Stations"
Images from “Twenty six Gasoline Stations”

On a theoretical level, Ed Ruscha ended up combining two things:

  1. Engagement of consumer culture +
  2. Mechanical reproduction

The technology of the 1960’s allowed for cheap reproduction of images, so “Twenty six gas stations” that Ed Ruscha ended up printing was very cheap. In the beginning, he made an edition of several hundred, and sold it for very cheap.

The really fascinating thing that Ed Ruscha ended up doing was making an “open edition” — in which he kept reprinting the book endlessly, didn’t number the books, and broke the tradition of the “artist book”.

When Ed Ruscha was questioned about his methodology and thoughts on photography and art, he responded by saying that photography ultimately exists as documentation (not art). So Ed had no problems producing the book as a mass-printed consumer good, instead of a “bespoke” art piece.

The Digital Shift

Of course the first question that comes to your mind is today’s “digital age” (God, I hate saying that word).

But anyways— the Internet is essentially a huge copying machine. Every single photo, video, article, or piece of content uploaded to the web is indexed (copied) by Google and stored into their servers. Whenever a user looks at your website, Flickr, Tumblr, Facebook (or whatever) — their computers cache a copy of all the content into their computers. I think it is quite naive for photographers to try to “protect” their images by adding copyrights/image copying protection code to their sites. You can’t stop duplication in the digital age.

So where do physical books belong in a digital world?

I am a “digital native” (once again I hate this word, but it is the best way to describe who I am). When I was 11 years old, I got my first computer, and by the time I was 12 years old, I was plugged into the Internet via my epic 28.8k modem (on AOL with free trial discs). I used to hog the phone line at home for up to 8–10 hours a day (playing StarCraft, chatting on AIM, downloading the original Grand Theft Auto, etc.) — and was constantly plugged in.

But nowadays, I can’t stand the Internet. It is the most distracting thing out there— worse than crack cocaine. I can’t get any writing, reading, or deep thinking done (when my Wifi is connected). So if I ever need to get “real” work done— I have to turn off the Wifi on my computer (like it is now) and switch my smartphone to airplane mode (or even better yet, turn it off completely). I do feel anxiety when I’m not plugged in— but after the first few hours, I feel a sense of calm, of solace.

I see photography books (and real printed books) as an escape. Admittedly I read the majority of my books on my kindle app on my smartphone (for the convenience), but nothing beats a real, physical book.

With a real, physical book— you don’t have to worry about pop-up windows, battery life (constantly have to plug in your devices and charge it), screen glare, and having to upgrade your devices. Sometimes when I’m reading books on my kindle app on my phone, I wonder if I should be reading it on an actual Kindle device, or perhaps on my iPad. With a book, I have none of these concerns— and I know that a physical book will never get “outdated”. A physical book is something I can give to my future grandchildren, and they can pass it on (with all of my hand-written notes on the side).

Whenever I look at photos on Flickr, I get too easily distracted. I flick from one single image to the next, then suddenly open my email, then go on Facebook, and then maybe see a few more photos on Flickr (from other photographers).

With a real photography book, I am calm and relaxed. I fall into a good photography book— it is like I am entering a new world. I love the feeling, texture, and dimension of photography books. I love the pacing of flipping the pages, and the pleasure of closing a book and putting it back on my shelf when I am done.

At the same time— physical photography books can be a pain in the ass. They are expensive, bulky, and hard to store (when you have a small apartment). I have a lot of friends in Australia who are quite limited with buying books off Amazon (because shipping anything to Australia is really expensive).

In this way, I am very hopeful with digital books. With digital books (let’s say an iPad app/book) — you don’t have to deal with printing costs, distribution costs, and shipping costs. You have a beautifully backlit screen, and can download it from anywhere in the world. You also have a consistent viewing experience (if everyone has a normal-sized iPad).

Of course the iPad is still not a replacement for a physical book— but a great complement. And I do think sometimes in life (let’s say if you travel a lot or are tight on money), compromises are good when it comes to photography books. Personally I bought Elliott Erwitt’s “Personal best” book on the iPad for less than $10, which would have cost me $50+ as a physical book. I enjoyed the images thoroughly (in retina), enjoyed the behind-the-scenes video interviews, and I can always look at the book whenever I want to when I am traveling (and have limited space in my backpack).

Furthermore, you can always go back and re-edit digital books. With a physical book, once you print it— you can never go back and “re-edit” it. This is actually one thing I like about blogging— I can always go back and re-edit old things I wrote, or add new ideas or content. Digital is much more dynamic and flexible.

Ideas for photography books

Bruno_Ceschel
Portrait of Bruno Ceschel

Let me digress for a moment (on the argument of printing physical books vs. digital books) and move onto some ideas for publishing photography books.

I didn’t mention earlier, but I recently attended a lecture on book making by Bruno Ceschel, an award-winning publisher in the UK. Super cool guy, funny and down to earth — I was able to listen to him speak in a course at LCC (thanks to Kristen and Francesco for hooking it up).

Below are some ideas for photography books, which are practical, and you can apply:

1. Folding pages

If you see David Alan Harvey’s book, “Based on a true story”, it is interactive. You can re-arrange the book as you want, by re-folding the pages in different ways. It is kind of like a “pop-up” book when we were kids.

Another cool book which is similar to this is the book: “Eyes that are like two suns” by Luke Stettner. Similarly, you can fold certain pages in the book, which end up creating new meanings:

1_eyes 2_eyes 3_eyes 4_eyes 5_eyes 6_eyes 10_eyes 11_eyes 15_eyes 16_eyes 17_eyes 18_eyes

2. Have one good idea

Sometimes photographers try to be too gimmicky with books, and try to incorporate too many ideas.

Bruno suggested that a good photography book only needs one good idea, which is executed well.

Don’t try to incorporate folding pages, pop-up images, mixing color and black and white, different sized images, and different orientation of pages.

Just stick to one good idea— and follow-through.

3. Keep the books small and simple

One of the biggest misconceptions that a lot of young photographers make is that they dream of big, hardcover monographs (like which are published by Steidl).

Bruno suggests the opposite: keep your books small and simple.

There are many benefits of small and simple books.

  • a) They are a lot cheaper to produce and ship.
  • b) They are smaller to carry around, and your reader will more likely carry your book in their bag or briefcase, and perhaps read it on the bus or subway
  • c) It is a better reading experience: reading a big-ass book can often be too unwieldy and heavy. You can easily sit down in a chair and read a small and simple book. For a big-ass and heavy book, you have to spread it out on a table, and turning the pages is a pain in the ass too.

4. The book is a (physical) object

Bruno is still pretty old-school in the sense that he believes that a book is a physical object. He doesn’t believe in PDF books— he thinks that a book should exist in the physical world.

I don’t quite agree with him on this point— but I do agree that I far prefer the physicality of printed books (instead of just seeing them on an iPad or a screen).

It is like the intimacy of seeing printed 4×6 photos of yourself as a kid in a family album (instead of just seeing them on Facebook).

Bruno also said that a PDF book is not a “fully formed idea”. For example, if you are planning an exhibition— you can share your idea via drawings and sketches. You can get a sense of the idea, but you don’t know what it will physically feel like in the real world.

For example, in an exhibition you need to see how the light affects the images during the day, you want to get a sense of the temperature of a exhibition space, the smell of the place, the sizes of the prints, the type of frames you use, and the layout of images. You can’t visualize this all on a 2-d piece of paper (or a screen).

Also a lot of the “fault-finding” of a book happens once you print it out. When you print out a book, you can get a feel of the size of the book, the texture of the paper, the printing quality, and whether it is appropriate for your project or not. Based on how it feels in your hand, you can re-print the book to the specifications, which feel right for you.

5. The book prompts a performance

I never considered this point, but Bruno shared the idea that the “book prompts a performance.”

What does that mean?

Well, the viewer needs to interact with a book in a certain way. This is how the viewer is going to hold the book (horizontally or vertically), how the viewer is going to read the book (in bed, on the train, or on a desk), how quickly they will turn the pages, in which order they will see the images, whether they will read the photos from left-right (or right-left), etc.

This is once again why Bruno doesn’t like really big photography books. He said during the lecture, “ How do you read something if an object needs a table?” He criticized Thames and Hudson and Phaeton for printing books with lots of images, lots of text— which make it big and hard to read.

As a side-note, one of my favorite photography books is Jason Eskenazi’s “Wonderland”, as it is the size of a paperback novel, and you can easily carry with you everywhere you go for inspiration on-the-go.

1x1.trans 6 Lessons I’ve Learned From Photographers Sketchbooks
Jason Eskenazi and his copy of “Wonderland” — see how small it is and how it fits perfectly in his hand (and also folds flat)

Furthermore, Bruno generally doesn’t like big landscape books. He said that they generally fold out too big, and take up too much space.

He believes that they aren’t practical to look at (too clunky).

Whereas a smaller book is much more enjoyable to read, especially if it folds flat (without a tight gutter in the center). It makes the book a much more intimate experience.

6. The book “in flux”

During his lecture, Bruno talked about a book titled: “You make me feel (mighty real)” by Lewis Chaplin. Bruno said the book wasn’t that great, but the photographer was just 17 years old, and produced a few copies from a digital printer at home. He started off by making 4 copies (for friends and family), and eventually ended up printing it many times (so far, 3 different versions).

Every time he reprinted the book, he would change the layout, change the images, and make different editions. It wasn’t just a static book, it was a book constantly “in flux”.

With digital technology and print-on-demand, you can make a book which is constantly a “work in progress”. I think this is a good strategy— because isn’t life a “work in progress” as well, and like they say, “the journey is the reward.”

7. Represent your message with the right medium

There is a small zine publishing team (called “PPP”, aka Preston is my Paris publishing) in which they did a project of the “Preston bus station”, an area with lots of “brutalist buildings” which was threatened to be demolished (because a lot of people thought it was ugly). But at the same time, there were a lot of people in the community who wanted to save the property

So anyways, the photographers from “PPP” ended up doing a documentary series of the bus station, and ended up printing it as newspaper — which was the perfect medium for the people of the community (old people who read newspapers, and teenagers who live in a “disposable” culture):

Bus_Station_1-800x575 Bus_Station_2-800x575 Bus_Station_3-800x575 Bus_Station_4-800x575 Bus_Station_5-800x575

I think this was a great strategy— as this allowed the photographers from “PPP” to give away the photos for free in the newspaper format. Whereas if they tried to print it as an expensive hard-cover, nobody would have bought it, and therefore nobody in the community would have ended up seeing the images.

8. Book covers

As unfortunate as it is, the reality is that people do judge a book by its cover. In a world saturated with images, books, and publications— a book needs to stand out from the crowd with a bold and edgy cover.

Bruno is actually big fan of pink book covers. He doesn’t necessarily think that a book cover needs to represent the content inside. A book cover should be bold and flashy, and encourage a random on-looker to pick up the book. Pink often does this well.

9. The texture and feel of a book

Bruno also emphasized one of the pleasures of books (and objects) is how they feel.

With a book cover, there are so many different types of materials you can use. This can make a book feel soft, feel textured, feel smooth, or feel rough.

Bruno used a good analogy: when you look at a physical object (like a chair), you don’t just want to look at it. You want to sit on it, you want to see how it feels on your bottom, and you want it to look aesthetically pleasing in the context of an environment.

10. Hiring a designer?

Bruno believes that photographers should always work with designers when putting together a book. A designer will help you work out issues like how much text you want per line, the spacing of images, the layout of images, the editing and sequencing of images, paper types, fonts, cover materials, etc.

A photography book is often a collaboration between the photographer, designer, and sometimes an editor.

If you can’t afford a designer, Bruno suggests to just keep the photography book simple and non-pretentious.

When it comes to fonts in a book, he hates “funky fonts” (he says they look awful). He also thinks that the big, bold, stencil font that a lot of photojournalists and documentary photographers use is cliché. He recommends Helvetica as a good “safe” font.

He also doesn’t like photography books with black backgrounds, which he thinks is “bizarre”. He believes that white pages give a photograph more breathing room, space, and contrast to images.

Another small question asked, was whether a photographer should include the cover image of a book inside the book itself. Bruno ultimately said “there are no rules”, and he said it was okay to repeat images— but encouraged photographers to use slightly different images.

11. Making money via photography books?

One student asked a question about making money through photography books. He said flat out: “Nobody makes money”. Photographers (and publishers) do it as an art of love, and there is very little (if any) money to be made making a photography book.

Conclusion

There are ultimately no “right” ways to put together a photography book. Above were just some summarized points made by Bruno based on his experience and opinion.

Even Bruno said that there are no rules for making photography books. At the end of the day, you want to make a book that you personally enjoy— and that you think will add value to the lives of others.

Last point: a photography book isn’t just a container for images. A photography book should be an enjoyable experience in itself.

I am still learning a lot about photography books (my knowledge is very limited)— but I will continue to share some thoughts and ideas as I continue to educate myself.

Related articles on photography books

Below are some articles you might enjoy, related to photography books:

Photography Book Reviews

Some of my favorite photography books (and review)