1 - Introduction
There is a lot of thought being given today to the issue of numbering prints.  In short, and to mimic Shakespeare, photographers who decide to sell their work ponder endlessly whether to release their prints in limited edition or not in limited editions. Such is the question that worries many photographers today.

It is worth mentioning that photographers who do not try to sell their work suffer no such quandary.  They simply print their work, wasting no time on how many prints of a single image they make.  Instead, they concern themselves with print quality rather than with print quantity. 

Truth be told (extend your hands in front of you, palms facing each other, as you say this): numbering photographs is a marketing game.  It serves no purpose in regards to the quality of the print.  Instead, it is used to artificially increase the perceived value of a particular image while the photographer is alive. 

The marketing principle goes like this: reducing the quantity by a measurable amount will allow the photographer to increase the perceived value, and in turn the selling price, by a commensurate amount.  In other words: the smaller the edition, the higher the price of each print in this edition.  An edition of 10 will allow each print to be priced higher than an edition of 100 which in turn will be priced higher than an edition of 1000, and so on.  The respective price of each print is set by the photographer, the gallery, or both.  Pricing is no small task, and is often just as challenging as setting the number of an edition. However, pricing is a very different issue that I will not debate here.

The whole question then becomes “how big (or small, as you prefer to put it), should a given edition be?  The answer, for the most part, lies in the photographer’s expectations for upcoming sales.  In other words, how many prints of a given image can a specific photographer expect to sell?  10? 100? 1000? More?  “Smart” marketing dictates that you need to find that number and set the edition at this number or slightly above, just in case you were pessimistic.  You noticed I said “smart” marketing.  I did so because it may, after consideration, not be so smart, an issue that I will come back to later in this essay.

2 - Manipulation and art
Sounds manipulative, doesn’t it?  If it does, that’s because it is.  To prove it, let’s back off a little.  Why do we collect, or purchase as the case might be, fine art photographs?  Is it because they have a number on them (Ansel Adams prints don’t have numbers), is it because we expect them to increase in value (many prints do not increase in value), or is it because we love the image?  Truth be told (extend your hands forward again, palms facing): most people collect or purchase images because they love them.  And while the investment value might be a concern, few if any (at least those who intend to display their prints and not keep them in dark storage) purchase a photograph solely because it is limited in number.

This is not to say that the numbering approach does not generate extra sales.  It does. This is simply to say that loving the image, and enjoying the work of specific artists, is the number one reason why collectors purchase prints. Numbering comes later in the selection process, after one has decided that they love a specific photograph enough to purchase it.  My belief is that once someone has decided to acquire a specific photograph, the presence (or absence as we will see shortly) of numbering is the “clincher,” i.e. the final element that closes the sale.

3 - A short, short history of numbering in photography
The fact is that numbering is a fairly recent development. Some of the photographs that have become most valuable today were not numbered. They are limited in number simply because the photographers stopped printing them, usually because they are deceased.  Most of the biggest names in photography, such as Ansel Adams, Edward Weston and so on, did not number their prints and only limited the edition number of portfolios. Adams actually said (I paraphrase) "why limit the number of prints one can make from a medium that is by nature unlimited and in which each print of an image is potentially as good as all other prints?"

Good question. Why do so?  As I explained earlier, this is done purely for marketing purposes, to artificially increase the value of a print while the photographer is still alive.  Why while he is still alive? Because after he has passed away, the edition is by nature limited to the number of print made by the photographer during his lifetime.

But things do not stop there.  I own an 8”x10” Edward Weston print, which I purchased because I love it, printed by his son Cole.  This print, just like the prints made by Edward himself, is not numbered.  In fact, I doubt that any print of any negative made by Edward or his sons, has ever been numbered. The value of this print, at the time I purchased it, was $3000 while prints made by Edward himself were at least twice that for the least expensive and many times more for the most expensive.

These are respectable prices.  They show that print value is not only, or not so much, controlled by numbering and artificial control of the number of prints made from a given image. In this instance, the value of a non-limited print done by the son of the photographer remained quite high despite the fact it was not printed by the original artist and was not numbered or limited in any way.

Why is it so?  Because of the power of the image, the extraordinary quality of the print, the name of the photographer and the recognition bequest upon him by the photographic and artistic community.  That alone, to me and to many collectors, is enough to justify making a purchase.  We do not need a number in the lower right hand corner of the print, or on the back as the case might be, to further motivate us to purchase the image.  In other words, who cares how many prints were made when they are as stunning and beautiful as this one.

The fact is that we know, maybe not explicitely but certainly implicitely, that relatively few fine art prints of individual images are made by photographic artists. Why?  Because this is fine art photography and because artists have a difficult time selling their work.  The art market is a rarefied market, one in which most artists sell just a few prints of any given image.  Even the “biggest” names out there make less than a thousand prints of their most famous images in their lifetime.  Only a few exceed this number and even so only by a small margin and we are talking here about prints that have become world famous. 

Art will be art, a field in which high numbers are not only uncommon but most often unheard of.  Those who believe that they have to have a number on their print so that they have evidence that the artist won’t be printing “tens of thousands copies” of a given image are not only uneducated in the nature of the art world, they are also delusional.  Tens of thousands?  I wish. It would be a very different business then. In fact, for many photographers, it may become a business!

4 - Of Quality and Quantity
The issue of quality versus quantity is central both to my own work and to my teaching.  I practice what I teach and teach what I practice.  I see no other way, not being prone to double standards.  Life is just too short and having two different ways of doing any given thing is just too complicated. Plus, it's unethical and shows a lack of integrity. 

My first encounter with quantity took place when I started selling my work.  My goal, little did I know, was to sell a print to everyone on the face of the earth.  I know this sounds silly, or delusional, but such was the case.  The fact that I sold my work at the Grand Canyon, a location known worldwide and the destination of five million international visitors each year, actually made this goal not so delusional.  Regardless of the accuracy of my thinking, the fact is that I was well on my way to doing so when the workload nearly killed me.  Did I make 1000 copies of any given prints?  I may very well have.  Fact is, I didn’t count.  My goal was to “crank out” as many prints as I could in the shortest amount of time, something which was a real challenge as I could not keep up with the demand.

I realized my error early enough to correct the course of my carreer and point my methaphorical boat in the proper direction.  I realized that aiming for quantity was an exercise in frustration, one that would destroy my health and greatly reduce the value of my work.  Most importantly, I realized that I could not generate both quality and quantity.  At least not without hiring employees and designing a system in which others were responsible for many of the less critically creative tasks, something that I was not willing to do.

As a result I became a proponent of quality work rather than quantity work.  This means that no shortcuts are taken during any phase of the creation of the image, from conception, to capture, to processing, curating, matting, etc. The goal is not to save money, or time, in the process.  Instead, the goal is to use the finest tools and supplies and take all the time necessary to create the finest quality artwork possible, bar none.

By nature, this means reducing the number of prints.  Because each print takes longer to make, there will be less prints made. Because more time is spent creating each print and more expensive equipment and supplies are used, the price of each print will be set higher and fewer people will be able to afford them.  In marketing terms, in a quality-based model, the income is be made from a few sales for a high price per sale. This marketing model is by nature limited and does not need to feature limited editions to work. It is used widely in the fashion designer industry for example. While I believe it might exist, I have never seen a limited edition dress, purse, shoes or other.

Quality instead of quantity also dictates that the artist continuously seeks to create new images that further his vision.  Therefore, instead of spending all his time in the studio, the artist needs to divide his time between fieldwork and studio work, between the printing of previous images and the creation of new images.  Upon return to his studio, the artist needs to work on his new images. This approach forces a reduction in the number of prints made from any given image since the artist is placing his efforts as much on new prints and on previous prints.  In fact, as is often the case, artists place more emphasis on newer work, focusing on printing their latest images rather than their previous images, an approach that further reduces the number of print made from any given image.

This process, by its very nature, automatically reduces the number of prints made from any given image. Why further complicate things by numbering each image?  Isn’t this enough to guarantee that collectors will have collectible pieces?  Here too we can see how numbering is a marketing decision rather than an artistic decision.  Nothing wrong here, mind you. Marketing is still legal in the United States.  However, and since we are talking business and not art, the question begs to be asked: does it work?  More specifically: does numbering limited edition photographs result in more income for the photographer?

There is nothing that says it cannot work or that a higher income can be achieved.  On the other hand there is nothing, per se, that says it is the only marketing model by which photographers can receive higher prices for their work.  In a quality versus quantity marketing approach, in which both seeking the finest quality (as I do) and numbering prints (as I don’t do) are used, commanding higher than average prices for your work is important.  It is important because you since you cannot realize your profit margins on a large number of sales, you must realize this margin on just a few sales.

5 - The problem
The problem is that the limited edition approach in photography was defined at a time when chemical photography had reached his apex and before digital photography was introduced.  At that time, which we could define as being, broadly speaking, from the late 70’s to the early 90’s, the limited edition marketing model worked great.  In fact, it worked better and better as chemical photography became more and more mainstream, better known and practiced by a larger and larger number of photographers.  Why?  Because the more photographers are out there competing to sell their work, the more the buying audience wants justification for the work.  And numbering is that: a justification for the price and the quality of the work. 

The argument goes like this: if it is limited it must be good.  And if it is good it must be expensive.  And if it is expensive it needs to be limited.  And if it is limited it is good…  It is a circular argument, but circular arguments work, unfortunately.  Not all of us are rhetorically sophisticated.

The problem changed when digital was introduced.  While chemical photography was stable, with few major changes taking place in regards to quality improvements, digital was (and still is) in a state of constant change at every technical level.  Print permanence, color gamut, contrast control, paper choices, dynamic range, bit depth and just about every other fundamental technical aspect of digital photography have changed dramatically since digital photography became a reality for photographers.  Simply comparing a print made in the mid 90’s to a print made today will prove this point.  Even comparing a print made in the early 21^st century, say 2002, to a print made today, in 2008, will prove the point.  In fact, comparing a print made last year to a print made this year may even prove this point.  It all depends how closely you want to look at the differences between prints. 

Art collectors, and particularly fine art print collectors, look at the differences between prints very closely.  They are very meticulous in their study of a print.  Most of them can recognize fine variations of tone and color that would elude more casual observers.  Some of them carry a loupe.  They know what makes a good print, and they search for the finest prints. They look for prints that they can fall in love with because of the variations of color and tonality that are captured in the print, and because of the emotion that they feel when they look at the image.

Thanks to digital photography, bringing these fine variations of tone and color, and bringing to life the emotional content of a print, is becoming something that photographers have more and more control over.  Why?  Because the technology, the tools and the supplies are constantly being refined.  In one word: because the medium of digital photography is getting better and better everyday.

6 - The conflict
Such is the case, and only fools would contest it.  Evidence is all around us and it is a universally accepted fact.  Still, in this situation, some artists who release a print today, and who hope for their image (as they should) to sell out quickly, do so in limited editions by setting a specific number for each image.  How, in this situation, and provided that the print sells out (which is the goal after all) will these artists be able to take advantage of the constant improvements made to digital photography by printing a better version of their image in say, a year’s time?  Truth be told (extend your hands): they will not be able to offer a better print of this image because their edition is sold out and they have promised not to make any more prints of this image.

Problem then conflict. Problem because the goal is to do quality not quantity.  While the quantity may be there, through the numbered edition approach, the quality won’t be there very long, because of the constant improvements in digital technology.

Conflict because while these artists want to guarantee the finest quality to their customers, they actually make it impossible to continue offering this finest quality since they have to stop printing an image not because they cannot print it any better, but because they came to the end of the edition.  This has nothing to do with art.  At this point marketing has taken over and art has been pushed aside.

Of course, every problem has a solution. Unfortunately, some of the solutions to this problem are not very elegant.  One can, and many in fact do, release the same image in a different size, thereby allowing themselves to start a new limited edition.  The “edition by size” approach is widely used.  Artists don’t feel all that good about it and clients are suspicious of its validity.  If an image is offered in, say, 5 different sizes, from 11x14 to 40x50, and if each size is offered in a limited edition of 100, is this edition still truly limited?  And if a new size is created, say 18x24 instead of 16x20, because the 16x20 size has sold out, is this an honest practice or is it just a way to continue offering a best selling photograph in a limited quantity?  Finally, what if the 18x24 size sells out?  Do you invent a new size and continue playing this game?

Good questions.  My answer?  Just say no to limited editions.  It will make your life simpler and you won’t have to deal with questions that challenge your integrity.  And above all, if you do digital photography, like I do and like most photographers do today, you really don’t have another choice unless you sell a print every couple of years in which case you should either re-evaluate your marketing skills or stop selling your work.

Why is that?  Because by limiting an edition one implicitely says that this is the finest print that can be made from this image and that this image cannot be printed any better later on.  That position was fine with chemical photography because from 1980 forward the medium was relatively static, improvements wise.  However, with digital photography the medium is far from being static. Instead, it is in a state of constant change and significant improvements to the technology take place on an ongoing basis.

These improvements directly inform the issue of quality because they allow us to make better and better prints. Therefore, in this situation, it is fair to question why someone would limit the quantity of prints made from a specific image.  What if you sell out the edition of this image and then find out, in a year or so (as you most likely will) that you could print it better than you ever did before? If you number and the edition is sold out, you are out of luck! You can't print this image anymore without breaking the promise you made to the collectors who purchased your work.

Certainly, you could argue that by setting a relatively high number of prints in the edition, larger than you can reasonably expect to sell, you keep open the possibility of improving the print quality as the technology improves while not selling out the edition.  However, the problem I have with this approach is that it is marketing based on planned failure, not planned success.  I believe it is much better to plan on being successful and to act accordingly. 

The other problem with the planned failure approach is that limited editions are expected to sell out.  That is the nature of limited editions. Limited editions generate interest because of the rarity of the work, therefore they need to sell out for the marketing model to work.  If you offer limited editions and none of them are sold out, the purpose is defeated.  What do you think of limited edition artists whose prints are all constantly available and whose editions never sell out?  If you are like me, you don’t think very highly of them.  Do you want to be one of them?  Personally, I wouldn’t want to.

7 - Conclusion
I believe that, first, numbering comes out of a static approach to photography, an approach in which the artist believes that he has made the best possible print from a specific image and will never be able to do any better. This no longer holds true today in a world where technical advances are made if not daily or weekly then monthly and definitely yearly.

Second, I believe that numbering also results from an approach in which realizing a desired income today is more important than achieving the finest print quality tomorrow. While more somber in nature than the first reason, this is unfortunately also the case. Eventually, the artist's integrity and in turn the artist's income, suffer.

When I realized all of this, about 2 years ago, I decided to stop numbering my prints. I now only number my portfolios, the way Adams did, because they are collections of prints and not single images. Portfolios represent a body of work that was completed at a specific date and time. Certainly, the quality of the prints in the portfolio can be improved as the technology changes.  However, I so far have not re-released a portfolio in order to offer a new print quality and I have no plan of doing so.  The portfolios remains the same, each of them a testimony if you will to the print quality that could be achieved at a particular date and time.  The prints from portfolio images that are sold as single prints do however benefit from the latest advances in printing and are continuously improved. These are not numbered.

How you approach this issue is your choice.  As they say, this is a free country and I believe it is.  In fact, this belief defines much of my thinking and my approach to photography.  However, at this time in history, it does appear that besides marketing there are few if any compelling reasons to limit how many prints of a given image you can make.  To limit an edition is to prevent yourself from printing a specific image better later on, or to give yourself undue headaches, or both.  I see no reason to take this route when collectors make purchasing decisions based on how much they like the image.  I would like to believe that a finer image and an artist with integrity will always outdo a print done with outdated technology and an artist with questionable ethics.


Alain Briot
Vistancia, Arizona
September 2008