Today’s guest post is by Joe Decker, a nature photographer, writer and educator who lives in Northern California. Follow Joe Decker on Twitter to learn more about his workshops or read his blog. Learn about composition from him from his e-book, Tuesday Composition.

While I’ve had the opportunity to teach and work with hundreds of talented nature and landscape photographers, few if any of them ever consider artist residencies as a tool of developing their photography.

That’s a pity.

Residencies offer artists a place to stay and focus on art. This adobe cabin is used to house resident artists at Petrified Forest National Park

What are artist residencies?  Residencies are programs which grant artists a place to live while they focus on their work. These programs can take many forms. In some cases, these residencies are created by fine arts programs, many of those residencies pull in several artists at a time with the hope of encouraging interdisciplinary work or at least a sharing of ideas. Many parks and organizations that manage natural areas have residencies which are usually more solitary, but that put the artist in close connection with the landscape, in part with the hope of encouraging artwork that promotes and communicates the features of that park. Even some commercial concerns create residencies, my shipboard arctic residencies provided me incredible access to hard-to-reach areas of the planet, with the expectation that I’d also provide some work back in the form of workshops and material for a passenger DVD.

Residencies are offered by many types of organizations, from fine arts collectives and parks to commercial cruise lines.

Why do so few photographers apply for such opportunities?  Part of the disconnect is cultural. There has always seemed to be a quiet divide between the photography community and the fine art community, and while artist residencies are a staple of the traditional fine art community, they’re rarely if ever talked about in the photographic communities I’ve been a part of. There’s also a mystique factor, because of this “quiet divide”, Many times talented, creative photographers make the mistake of thinking that their work won’t be accepted by something they perceive as being part of the snooty “fine art” world. in reality, most residencies, particularly those applicable to landscape and wildlife photographers, are juried by people who do understand the creative potential of the photographic medium, and see art more broadly than many photographers might imagine.

Of course, there are some practical challenges to accepting a residency. Not everyone can afford the luxury of putting eight weeks into nothing but developing a new body of artwork. However, many people, particularly many talented amateurs, could afford two or three weeks if they understood the value they could get from a well-chosen residency.

Why You Should Consider a Residency

Why would a photographer wish to invest a few weeks in a residency? The most important reason to consider a residency is the opportunity for focused time. Whether you’re a professional or an amateur, it is unlikely that you get to spend nearly as much uninterrupted time making photographs as you’d like. Whether it’s the “day job at the factory” or the usual grind of marketing and selling your photographic work, the inevitable distractions of day-to-day life really get in the way of digging deeply into a photographic project. A few weeks dedicated to a project can bring depths to your work.

Cost is another reason. Few residencies offer anything in terms of cash, but there’s no question that the value of simply having a decent place to stay for a few weeks in an area you’d like to work is substantial. My arctic, ship-board residencies are probably the most extreme example of this, the cabin that I stayed in during my Svalbard residency this year probably would have cost around twenty thousand dollars if I’d paid for it retail.

Some residencies offer access to unique resources, whether they be archeological, geological or cultural.

Which brings me to access. Every residency I’ve been awarded has offered me unique opportunities in terms of access to the locations I’d be working in. In my National Park residency, not only did I have the run of the park at night and sunrise t (when the park was otherwise closed to visitors), but I also had enormous support from the staff there, from access to their geologic archives to guidance on a couple hikes to lesser-known park locations, as well as access to many archeological resources. My arctic residencies included the support necessary to get me and my camera near to polar bears without risking my life.

Residencies often offer a variety of forms of other support, from access to art making equipment to support in getting to unique and otherwise inaccessible or dangerous locations.

How To Apply

First, find a program that’s relevant to the kind of work you do, or at least the kind of work you’d like to do. You are more likely to be awarded a residency if it’s clear how you and your work fits in with the opportunity being offered, and you’ll are far more likely to benefit personally and professionally from a residency if the specific opportunity inspires you. If you’re a wildlife photographer, you might want to skip that urban art center opportunity, unless you have a clear plan for applying your skills and interests to a new environment–and even then, you’ll need to make a solid case in your application as to why you’re the best person to benefit from the residency.

Carefully research each residency you apply for, and respond to each residency individually. In applying for my Petrified Forest residency, I proposed projects that both inspired me and that leveraged the unique features of that park, such as it’s archeological resources and it’s incredibly dark sky. The Park Service’s own web site and in-park informational signage gave me a great deal of information about what they believed to be key features of the park, reflecting that understanding in my own proposal likely helped me win that particular residency.

Whether you’re a professional or not, it is essential that you show that you’re serious about your work. Few of these opportunities care about whether you make your living at photography, but all of them will care about whether you bring a serious, committed attitude to your art. There are many ways to show that in your application that don’t require having been “in business” for ten years–have you being showing your work consistently over a period of time? Have you been published broadly?  Have you won awards or other recognition over time? Do you have references that can attest to the quality and longevity of your efforts?

Finally, don’t give up. While there are a lot of residencies out there, there are also a large number of artists, not just photographers but painters, poets, sculptors and videographers often vying for the same slots. With effort and focus, you can take advantage of this wonderful opportunities to further your photographic efforts.

If you made it this far down, I have to ask you if you are now considering artist residencies to elevate your own craft. What, in Joe’s article, moved you to make that decision? If you have any follow up questions for Joe, please feel free to ask him in the comments section below.

Joe has offered his e-book, Tuesday Composition, to one lucky person who comments below. Winner announced on December 30th.

This is a guest blog by Sean Low, President of The Business of Being Creative which “provides practical business advice to those in the business of being creative.” You have got to follow Sean on Twitter.

Of all the issues confronting creative businesses, photographers included, pricing tops the list. Always. What to charge? How to charge? Can you charge? When to charge? If only there were a right answer. Unfortunately, there is not. However, there is definitely a wrong answer.

If you are not transparent and do not have a pricing model that supports your philosophy, you will go broke in a hurry. Why? You will never be able to create the trust with your client necessary for you to do your best (or even adequate) work. If you are trying to “bury” expenses and/or profit in a single number or “package”, your clients will sense it and will (rightfully) question your integrity. They will be waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if there is no shoe. So the better question to ask yourself is: have I communicated the value of my art and does the way I do things support that value.

You can earn a fair return if you a transparent with your pricing and your business model.

Fundamentally, photographers are in two businesses: 1) selling the act of creating the image; and 2) selling the products derived from the image (i.e., prints, albums, etc.). In a perfect world, a photographer would be able to make money on both businesses. However, in the digital age and with competition the way that it is, it is increasingly difficult to earn a fair return on your investment of time and energy in either business.

The pricing pressure on the act of creating the image has never been greater. You need only take a look at Groupon offerings by photographers to witness the price of creating an image approach zero. On the other hand, services like the Album Boutique make it very difficult to extract value from selling products associated with an image. Moreover, many clients are placing photographers in the very difficult position of having to give up control of their art and just turn over a CD of hi-res images. Just say no.

To move forward, you have to bring integrity to your process. You can earn a fair return if you a transparent with your pricing and your business model. You should be able to say to your client that this is what you need to create your images. If it means having a second or third shooter, then you should lay this out too. Despite what you might think, clients do know you are in business and have to pay things like rent, utilities, payroll, etc., so if you do tell them that you charge say fifty percent on your and your staff’s time they will probably accept it. Likewise, if you require a certain quality of album be purchased (it is the legacy of you and your art after all), they will likely accept that too. Again, you are entitled to earn a fair return on your investment of time and energy – enough to sustain your business. The key is to be transparent to what that is with your clients. Transparency builds trust and is really the only currency you trade in.

Ignore those that would compete with you solely on price. Focus on what you offer and why you do things the way you do. Be uncompromising when it comes to the integrity of your art and completely transparent in what it takes for you to create it. Your ultimate value has nothing to do with the price you charge and everything to do with how you communicate. Those clients who need (read: not just want) your vision will pay for it. It is up to you to move them from want to need.

It’s your turn to sound-off. What are your challenges when presenting pricing to your clients? How do you approach pricing – is it transparent or do you make it difficult for your clients to get a good read on you and your business? What issues do you encounter when discussing pricing with your clients?

Back in January, I posted about Selina Maitreya‘s audio program for serious photographers: The View From Here.

If you haven’t had a chance to read it, I suggest you go there first and then come back here. It’s a quick read and it will outline why you may want to buy this MP3 program for your photography business.

Recently, I had a chance to speak and record Selina (who now has an amazing blog called OneView). What you will hear below was my first attempt at recording a podcast (go easy on me will ya?), but the takeaway from it is still very good.

So, hit play, sit back and relax as you listen to Selina Maitreya talk about her background as a photo consultant and why she launched The View From Here for photographers like you and me.

Remember to use the code: FOSSES to get it for only $99 (original price is $199).

Full FTC disclosures: I received a complimentary copy of the entire program from Selina Maitreya. That, however, in no way alters my perception of it being a stellar product that you will find useful. If you use the code supplied above, I do receive a minor affiliate commission (enough to keep this website going every month).

Did you like this podcast? Would you like to see/hear more from other photographers? Please let me know in the comments section below. I look forward to hearing from you.

This is a guest post by Phillip Mackenzie, a Pennsylvania-based wedding & portrait photographer.

When people hear that I have three degrees in music and I’m now turning to photography, they often give me a quizzical look and ask why I would make such a drastic change. I don’t think it’s all that drastic, in fact, images and music are far more intertwined in their compositions and affectations than you might think.

Imagine this.
You’re out somewhere and a song starts. The infectious beat creeps into your body and your foot starts to move involuntarily, tapping to the rhythm. Something deep and primal infects you, and when the song ends you just want to hear it again! Any music that ellicits this sort of reaction is “get up and dance” music. This is opposed to “sit down and shut up” music that tends to be more cerebral than emotional, and demands your utmost concentration and thought to understand, just like some photography.

Music is everywhere. And it dares you not to pay attention.
Music is one of the most powerful forces in existence, isn’t it? Plato thought so. For millennia, people have danced, kissed, fallen in love, cried, got angry about, even gone into battle to a soundtrack. There’s an immediate, gut-level reaction. For instance: you either love or hate bagpipes. I’ve never met anyone who was indifferent. (And if you are, I’d love to meet you!) If you love them, there’s no more rousing sound than the pipes and drums of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guard. If you detest them, you want to rip off your ears.

Images have power too.
Images can elicit the same gut-level reaction, be it positive or negative. Jill Greenburg’s series of portraits called “End Times” is provocative. Your opinion is immediate, strong, and gut-level. Has time ever escaped you as you’ve taken in an image? The same reason you can’t get a song out of your head is the same reason you can’t stop looking at a photograph. While I can’t really explain the magic “why” of everyone’s gut reaction, I can explain the “how.” When you hear a great song, you play it for your friends, tweet about it, make sure other people listen to it. When our clients see photos that sing to them, they can’t help but spread the word. All of a sudden that one photo (or more, hopefully!) can spread across the entire world like wildfire. If you create images that sing, they’ll do all the work for you. And here’s how to do it.

Break it down.
What was the last photo you saw? What do you remember? Did you feel great joy or desolation? Melancholy? A couple deeply in love with each other? Both music and photography have the ability to capture our emotions and put them into aural or visual form. They do it the same way, just using different vocabulary. Let’s look at the basic elements of music:

• Melody
• Rhythm
• Harmony
• Timbre
• Dynamic

These are the most obvious and affective elements of music, and they are all paralleled in photography. Today we’ll explore the first two, melody and harmony.

Hear the Melody, Be the Melody. (The Obvious, In-Your-Face Part)
When I mention a song to someone and they tell me that they don’t know it, I respond with “Oh, you know, the one that goes like this…” and then I hum or sing a few bars of the melody. Strictly speaking, the melody is the theme, the single most recognizable part of a piece of music. Usually it’s the first thing you recognize about a tune (sometimes it’s the rhythm, but more often than not you still can’t be sure until you hear the melody). Melodies are amazing creatures; they can carry emotion and meaning even without words. When there is a lyric, though, the melody serves as the structure by which we remember the words. Don’t believe me? Try to recite the lyric to your favorite song without thinking about the melody…it’s a challenge! It functions in the same way as the subject of your photograph. It is the most basic, in-your-face element of an image. Look at the following image for 5 seconds or so, then close your eyes and see what you recall about it.

I’ll bet the first thing you remember is the girl’s incredibly bright and engaging smile. You might also recall the supporting color palette, and the contrast her hair color makes against the grassy background. All of those background details play a supporting role to her face, particularly the smile. This is the difference between melody and harmony. While you can distinctly remember a melody, the harmony tends to collect itself into large blocks or swaths of color or texture. While her smile may seem distinct in your memory, you may just recall the generally bright green color surrounding her without the various yellow leaves, and you’re not likely to remember the exact position of her left hand or even how curly or straight her hair might be. Melody. It’s what you remember.

Harmony: The Enabler. (The Bricks and Mortar of Music and Images)
If the melody is what you remember, the harmony is what helps you remember it. It’s what enables the melody to live and sing to our ears. It’s the rest of the Sistine Chapel ceiling that isn’t God and Adam. It’s the parts of New York City that aren’t tourist attractions. It’s the rest of the cast of a movie or a musical. In one-man shows, there’s always a supporting character even if it’s just the actor doing a different voice or personality (think Smeagol/Gollum in The Lord of the Rings), or speaking to an inanimate object like Tom Hanks did to his volleyball in Cast Away.

If I think of my favorite song, I might not be able to remember specifics about the harmony, but I can remember the “chunks.” In fact, it’s often incredibly difficult to sing a tune without hearing the harmony (either externally or in your “inner” ear). All you have to do is watch the auditions for American Idol for 5 minutes (or even 30 seconds) and you’ll hear that it’s quite difficult, and for some, impossible, to sing something without an accompaniment. Any time Randy Jackson tells them that their singing was “pitchy,” it would probably have been better with someone playing the harmony. Then again, if everyone sounded good with the harmony behind them, karaoke wouldn’t be any fun!

Think of your favorite song. Can you hum the harmony? How much about it can you remember? A melody can be made or destroyed by the harmony. In photography, the harmony could be called many things: the background, visual palette, scene, or frame to name a few. It’s the stuff in the image that’s not your subject. For a bridal portrait, the harmony might be a bright, vibrant, out-of-focus background and a bouquet.

Getting even more specific, the subject might be so small as just a person’s eyes, and everything else, including the rest of their body, becomes secondary. A fine example is Joe McCurry’s famous “Afghan Girl” (if you don’t know it, Google it now)—her indescribably hypnotic eyes are without doubt the focal point of the image. But without the rest of the image – her clothing, the framing, the green wall in the background that oddly matches her eye color – her eyes aren’t nearly as spectacular. The melody might be her eyes, but the harmony is the rest of the image. Nothing in that photograph is unimportant. Every element is there as part of the melody or the harmony to support it. Her eyes sing in that photograph and draw you in to see more.

Stay Tuned.
In Part II, we’ll look at the other elements and how all of them work in collaboration to produce a truly memorable song or spectacular image.

Om writes with great regret about how he is missing out on the Nasreen Mohamedi show at the Talwar Gallery in NYC. I have to confess I had never heard of Mohamedi before Om mentioned it in his blog. Given that I live so close to the city (well, relatively) I should really try and check it out before it closes on October 25.

Anyone else visited the gallery and seen the show? Want to send me a short 100-word report? I’ll promise to post it here and credit you for it (of course!)

Talwar is showing her photographs from the 1960′s and 70′s, which she never exhibited. {From NYTimes}