Posted by Respect, Communication and the Value Behind the Lens
There is something I’ve been thinking about lately after speaking with several other photographers. We all seem to be experiencing many of the same frustrations. The unanswered emails. The requests for free photography. The expectations. The restrictions. The occasional request to remove an image. And perhaps most importantly, the feeling that photographers simply don’t receive the respect we believe our craft deserves. Before anyone misunderstands where this is going, let me make something perfectly clear.
No photographer is entitled to access to an artist, a concert, or a photo pit.
We understand that.
Artists have concerns. Management has responsibilities. Promoters and publicists have jobs to do. There are legitimate reasons why a photographer may be denied access.
A simple no is perfectly acceptable. But somewhere along the way, professional communication and an understanding of the value photographers provide seem to have become increasingly difficult to find.
And perhaps that’s where this conversation begins.
Why Correspondence Matters
Maybe my feelings about communication come from my years as an Entertainment Manager. I took enormous pride in my responsibilities, and one thing I learned early was that correspondence was paramount. Communication kept things moving. It kept everyone informed. And most importantly, it prevented important details from slipping through the cracks. Every artist, band and performer had their own respective folder. Emails were printed and added. Contracts and riders were reviewed with a fine-tooth comb. We didn’t want any famous brown M&M’s sneaking through the cracks.
And trust me…
I found cracks.
But paying attention to those details accomplished something much more important than keeping paperwork organized. It built trust. Artists and their representatives knew that we were paying attention. They knew requests weren’t simply disappearing into someone’s inbox. They knew that details mattered. Perhaps that’s why I have such a difficult time understanding why correspondence has become so disposable.
The Silence
Photographers spend time researching the proper contacts. We follow the requested procedures. We submit professional requests. We provide information about our publication and credentials. And then… Nothing. No response. No approval. No denial. Just silence. Again, nobody owes us access. Nobody is required to approve a request.
But photographers can accept being told no. What becomes frustrating is simply not knowing. A quick response doesn’t require a lengthy explanation:
Thank you for your request. Unfortunately, we cannot accommodate you.
That’s all it takes. Professional communication shouldn’t be too much to ask. Because silence doesn’t simply say no. Sometimes it feels like it says:
Your request wasn’t important enough to acknowledge.
And Sometimes the Ghosting Goes the Other Way
What’s equally frustrating is when the photographer doesn’t initiate the conversation.
I’ve been contacted by artists, PR representatives, management and promoters asking about photography services. Naturally, before I can quote a price, I need to understand the assignment. How many band members am I photographing? Are the photographs intended to highlight the entire band—or primarily one artist? Are you looking for backstage images? Band portraits? Concert photography? How many finished images are you requesting? Those aren’t complicated questions. They’re the questions that need to be answered before I can ask the next obvious one:
What’s your budget?
And sometimes…
Ghosted.
The conversation simply disappears because asking for a few details suddenly requires more effort than someone was prepared to provide. Professional photography isn’t as simple as saying, “We need some pictures.”
Before a photographer can provide a service—or a price—we need to know exactly what service is being requested.
An Invitation Isn’t Always Compensation
There is also an important distinction between covering a band because I want to cover them and being invited to photograph a band because they want photographs.
Those are two very different situations. If I choose to attend a performance because the band interests me, fits the editorial direction of Long Island Sounds & Beyond, or gives me an opportunity to create a story, that’s my choice. There is value to me in that experience. But if someone reaches out because they want professional photographs of their band, then we’re having a different conversation. I’m not there to record the performance. I’m there to photograph it. And professional photography is a service. An invitation may get me through the door, but it doesn’t pay for equipment, travel, time, editing software, computers or the hours spent afterward sorting and processing photographs. Sometimes access has value. Sometimes editorial content has value.
And sometimes… you need to show me the money. There is nothing wrong with a photographer saying:
I’d be happy to photograph you. Let’s talk about compensation.
Our time has value. Our experience has value. Our equipment has value. And the finished photographs certainly have value.
What the Bands Don’t See
Bands see the finished photograph. What they often don’t see is everything that happened to create it. Concert photographers don’t control the lighting. We don’t control where we’re allowed to stand. We don’t control the weather at an outdoor show. We don’t control whether the singer suddenly steps into darkness while a spotlight burns out half the stage. We work with what we’re given. And sometimes what we’re given is terrible. There are venues where I simply refuse to photograph anymore—not because I dislike the venue or the bands performing there, but because I know what I’m going to get before I even lift the camera. Brutal lighting. Hot spots. Blown highlights. Destroyed skin tones. Photos that require far more work than they should simply to become presentable. And before anyone asks:
“Can’t you just fix it in Photoshop?”
Photoshop is an incredible tool. But it isn’t a magic wand.
You can edit a photograph. You can’t always rescue one.
Yes, additional editing can sometimes improve a difficult image. But editing takes time.
And time has value too. Photographers cannot magically transform fundamentally bad conditions into masterpieces simply because someone expects us to.
Who Controls the Artist’s Image?
Artists absolutely have a right to be concerned about how they are presented.
I’ve seen that from the production side of the entertainment business. At the casino where I worked, we utilized an iMag system—Image Magnification—with live cameras feeding two massive 20-by-24-foot screens positioned on either side of the stage. Most artists loved it. A few were understandably apprehensive. After all, there’s a significant difference between performing in front of an audience and suddenly seeing yourself magnified on two enormous screens. The system was addressed through the rider and contractual process and approved by artist management before the performance. Aside from Ann Wilson, I also encountered artists including Chrissie Hynde and Alanis Morissette who had concerns about how they would be visually presented. And honestly? That’s understandable.
Ann Wilson provided one of the best examples of how reasonable communication can solve a potential problem. At the time, she was uncomfortable with her weight and asked that we avoid full-body shots. That was it. A legitimate concern. Clearly communicated. Easily accommodated. That is reasonable image control. The problem isn’t that artists or management want some input into how an artist is portrayed. The confusion begins when photographers are asked to remove an image because someone believes an artist might find it unflattering… …only to later see photographs posted by the same people that are wildly oversaturated, poorly exposed, out of focus—or so soft that they look like they were shot through a shower curtain.
And that’s when photographers begin scratching their heads. If protecting an artist’s image is truly the priority… shouldn’t the quality of the image matter too?
The Social Media Paradox
Now, to be fair, photographers understand that bands often post photographs taken by fans. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Fans are excited. They want to share their experiences. Sometimes a photograph captures a moment or an emotion that matters more than technical perfection. Bands should engage with their fans. But there should still be a bar. A band’s social media presence is part of its public image.
When an artist has professional photographs available but their official pages are filled with wildly oversaturated images, blurry photographs and pictures that barely resemble the people on stage, in my opinion, they are doing themselves a disservice.
This isn’t about photographers demanding that every image posted online be taken by a professional. It’s about understanding that photography is part of your brand. Bands spend money on instruments. Amplifiers. Lighting. Wardrobes. Websites. Promotional materials. All designed to make them look and sound professional. Photography should be considered part of that equation.
Respect the Craft
At the end of the day, I don’t believe photographers are asking for special treatment. We understand that access is a privilege. We understand that artists have concerns. We understand that promoters, management and PR representatives have responsibilities.
I’ve worked on both sides of the entertainment business, and I understand there are always multiple perspectives involved. But respect should work both ways. Respond to requests—even if the answer is no. If you reach out to a photographer for services, be prepared to answer basic questions about what you’re looking for. Don’t assume professional photography should automatically be free. Understand that photographers are working with the conditions they’re given. And recognize that Photoshop isn’t a magic wand. Most importantly, understand that the photograph you’re looking at didn’t simply appear because someone pushed a button. Someone invested in the equipment.
Someone learned the craft. Someone stood in the right place at the right time. Someone anticipated the moment. Someone adjusted for impossible lighting. Someone captured a fraction of a second that may never happen again. And then someone went home and spent additional hours turning those moments into photographs worthy of being seen.
That has value.
And If You Think I’m Talking About You…
No names appear in this article. That’s intentional. This isn’t about publicly embarrassing a particular artist, band, manager, promoter, publicist or venue. These are experiences. Some are mine. Others have been echoed by photographers I’ve spoken with. But if you happen to read something here and immediately think:
“I think Rob is talking about me…”
Well… Perhaps that’s a question only you can answer. Maybe the more important question is:
How do you treat the photographers who help tell your story?
Because we see a lot from behind the lens. The good. The bad. The frustrating. The ridiculous. And yes… occasionally something that looks like it was shot through a shower curtain. We don’t expect to be treated like celebrities. We don’t expect access to every stage. We simply ask that the craft—and the people behind the cameras—be treated with the same professionalism and respect that everyone else in the entertainment business expects for themselves.
Because behind every photograph is someone who was there to tell the story.
And perhaps it’s time more people recognized the value of the person behind the lens.
Long Island Sounds 