Print runs, integrity, and word definition

Joel has pointed out this interesting thread about a "hypothetical" moral dilemma caused by editioning photographs. We keep going back and for on whether we should have limited edition prints of Joel's art photography and the discussion there raises some interesting conundrums. Go, read, I'll wait here.

As you know, Bob, the discussion is about when the "mistake has already been made". Early prints were limited to 10---10! The mind boggles. We were talking about 100. But this limiting was also the size of the original print run, in which case: wow, 10 prints at once. That must have hurt the pocketbook.

At any rate, the photographer's gallery insisted on limited editions and the number 10 was chosen. Decades go by. The early work of this photographer rises in after-market value. One of the early editions goes for over $3 million on auction. The losing bidder approaches the photographer and asks for a new print to be made for $3 million. What would you do?

The comments obviously split between yes and no, but besides that, they split between "this is a question of integrity", "this is a question of contract", and "I don't know what these terms mean." With yeses and noes in each of those camps.

Legally, there's the question of contract. Legally, what was actually agreed to (through "common understanding" or through actual document) needs to be looked at. But even if I knew contract law backwards and forwards and were confident I was within my legal rights to print this new one, that still wouldn't prevent me from being taken to court and paying the resulting legal fees. So legality is only partially relevant. Perception-of-illegality matters almost as much. And frankly, I have no idea what either would be in this case.

At least some of the commenters think it's so obviously a matter of integrity that it doesn't even need to be explained. "Integrity is priceless", they say. Or "For $3 million? I'll trade integrity for that." But what kind of integrity, at what point in the story is it so obviously about integrity? Why is it so clear to them and so muddy to me? Is it the promise, that you made a moral contract to stick to 10 prints? In that case, what were the terms of the moral contract? That seems as muddy to me as the details of a legal contract. I don't know what you, the gallery, and the buyers were agreeing to back then.

A sub-class of the "question of integrity/contract" people think this is a moot point, because that print run exists and was limited, and a new print run will involve different technologies, cropping, size, editing, and date. Thus it is a new creation, and the limitation on the original run is intact. I'm not including them in the "what does this word mean" camp because they have a very clear idea of what the words mean. But their definitions are not universal.

Which brings us to the last camp, the "what means 'limited edition' anyway?" This is a sticky matter indeed, especially when we do single prints at a time.

I can more-or-less understand print runs when you have an original source (even a negative or digital file or a lithographic plate) and you do multiples at a time. There is physically a reason this picture is labeled "2 of 10, 1979 print run". Fine. And even limiting it makes sense if it is possible you no longer own the original source. You got the prints made, you sold the original painting, there is a physical limit on the work. Until copyright runs out and prints can be made at whim, of course. And we're relying on the integrity and self-interest and the legality of the owner of the original, that they should not make prints. Since you own the copyright and they own the artifact, I think it stays moderately clear.

But all the procedures for limiting the print runs of photos, where it seems awfully silly to get rid of the source, seem arbitrary. We have talked about limiting the number. And numbering the prints. And now, dating the prints. But what counts? Using the print for a lamp? An 8x10? What about dramatically different printing processes?

This is ridiculous. These decisions are entirely arbitrary and there's not even agreement within the community of what the terms "should" mean. Integrity and breaking the terms of the social and legal contract seems to be an "I know it when I see it" thing rather than something clearly laid out. Because this is not how art works any more. Even painters can keep the digital scan of their original on file---and probably should, because it is THEIR work and the copyright remains theirs.

There is no way we, personally, can afford to do multiple-print runs. We've gotten duplicates of 2"x3" prints for cards. That's it. Every other print is a run of 1. The size and cropping changes, the colour-correction changes, the printing changes, the printER changes. How could we decide how many print runs were appropriate? And what sizes counted? We don't have the words for this.

This is an issue for me because it does matter---I understand it mattering---that someone who buys one of Joel's prints has reasonable assurance it's not going to pop up everywhere. They have a work of art, not a stock photograph. The scarcity is part of the charm. But there is a natural source of scarcity: us. He manages every print run. He signs every print. We cannot scale up to IKEA or Walmart levels of duplication. You do have the guarantee of the personal touch, the connection with the artist, the limited scope. But I can't promise that over the decades there won't be 11 prints out there, or 101, or 1001 unless we make that arbitrary (and breakable) promise.

It's hard to imagine getting up to 100 without getting heartily sick of that particular print. But it's also hard to imagine a print go for $3 million at auction when you make it possible to special-order one for a few hundred dollars. I don't mind. And maybe someday someone will want to buy the rights. And if he agreed, Joel would hand over the electronic copies and the editing history and remove all trace of it from his files and backups and decide on his own terms what it was worth and what it required to maintain integrity on that deal. But in the mean time, if you want a print, have at 'er.

If there were a word for that we'd be set.

The problem is not just that I don't have a word for what I think we should do, but that we the community don't know what anyone means by "limited edition". But many people think they do. Including when they have contradictory definitions.

What's a photographer to do?

The Going to Sleep Game

I had an idea for a "Going to Sleep" game. Having tried it, I realize that there are some problems with it. It might be too open ended. When you're telling a cooperative story it's not so easy to just assert that "oh, we're in the bedroom now!" Suddenly an octopus from earlier attacks.

Or if you have a child that REALLY likes to talk, it can go on for a very long time. But it still might be worth putting out there.

It’s based partly on the ideas for bedtime rituals from Authentic Happiness, partly on the time Sarah was over and got a very restless Andrew to happily doze off, and partly on a pseudo-story I used to tell my brother that he inexplicably enjoyed. Probably also all the guided relaxation tracks I’ve been listening too are coming in to it.

The setup is something like this: we sit on the chair curled up together (contact is an important part of the soothing-ness, also the sing-song voice, dim light and other bed-time cues always help), and we begin:

We’re standing in a loooong hallway, the hallway of memories for today. It’s full of doors---small doors, tall doors, fancy doors, plain doors. You’re dressed up in your cosy pyjamas, and you’ve had your snack and brushed your teeth and gone to the bathroom and you’re ready for bed.

But first, we’re going to take a walk together down the memory hallway. I’m going to walk with you to different doors and tell you what door we’re at, and then you can tell me what’s behind it. Ready? Hold my hand. We’re walking down the hallway.

Here’s the first door. Mmm, this door smells good, and it’s solid wood like the kitchen table. It’s the doorway of good food. Behind it is the favourite food you had today. Let’s open it---what do we see?

With luck, sleepy boy will have enjoyed some food today, and will tell me all about it. And I’ll ask for details to help the memory.

Mmmm, pickles are tasty. Green and tangy and crunchy and good. That’s a good thing that happened today.

Maybe he won’t have had anything at all he liked (or be too grumpy to think of it), so we need a fall-back plan

Nothing tasty behind this door today? That’s okay! Off in the distance I see strawberries and cake and alligator juice from farther away days. Let’s go see what’s behind the next door for today.

And then other doors depending on the happenstance of the day. Time with friends, fun activities, good accomplishments, funny stories---whatever kinds of things they particularly like or enjoyed today. Possibly emphasizing the gentle enjoyments rather than hyper-excitements. Seligman says that with his younger kids he had to avoid the “looking forward to” part of the gratitude exercise because they got too excited to sleep. So it might have to be tuned to age and particulars.

Seligman’s version doesn’t have the hallway story or the prompts, but like I said, my brother used to really like the hallway story (especially when he got to make choices about which door to open, or elaborate on what was behind them) so I think it couldn’t hurt. And prompts can be used as necessary: “Which door are we at now? It’s a happy memory, but I can’t tell what kind.”

And maybe, when you start to tell that the boy is getting sleepy, you could introduce the door of happy dreams, which is cloudy and warm, glows lightly and sings softly and opens gently, and ask (or suggest) what good dreams he has to look forward to.

And my cats

Although this is an old picture

Also me

Testing, testing

Having software difficulties. Want pictures in posts. Is this too much to ask?

Look, it's me!

Identities vs personalities: what this one is about

I've given up on the identity integration and now I have three. dreadsci is just the personal side, but since my research peeps are posting on my research-related posts, that's what's going to live on my official blog.

I was thinking of making cracks about having multiple personalities, but that's not really true. All of my online identities are me, and I think probably identifiably me. So it's more about different nom-de-plumes to make it easier for people to filter out what they don't care about.

If you're interested in grad school life and random bits from the fringes of machine learning and artificial intelligence, then my main blog and identity is for you.

This is the random blog that you should probably only read if you know me or want to get to know me. Not coincidentally, this is also closest to the identity I use on forums. Although I dropped the "entist". So, NaNoWriMo and Ravelry know me as dreadsci. There's always cross-over between the writing life and grad school, but I think the pure writing stuff will move over here now. Unless I think it has merit for surviving gradschool

And of course there's the Artfire store, where I'm the chatty half of Boreal Designs and sell stitch markers and row counters for knitting, photo pendant jewelry, nature photography cards, and eventually Joel's art photography prints.

Given that I'm posting only sporadically on all these places, I don't know if reviving this blog is a good idea. But, focus is good. So, hello world, again!