This isn’t your father’s photo industry anymore. That statement is becoming more and more apparent with each introduction of new products and services that weren’t possible in the era of film. And yet some things seem to remain the same—or at least similar—until you take a closer look.

For example, there’s been a resurgence in the wedding and portrait arena of canvas prints, but the canvas print of 2008 is far different and easier to produce. No need to make a print, pull off the emulsion and adhere it to the canvas, then stretch, and frame it. Now you simply use canvas media in an inkjet printer and output directly, then stretch it. (Or easier still, send the image to your lab to have them output directly onto canvas.)

There are even frames available that are designed so that the depth of the stretched canvas is visible, and many photographers are offering canvas gallery wraps without frames—some incorporate words around the sides, while others show part of the image wrapped around, and still others choose a solid color to border the image.

Canvases really make a statement, whether its just one large canvas on a wall, or multiples that make up one image. Studio Photography’s April issue features an article that shows how one photographer markets canvases to her clients. In future issues of Studio Photography we’ll bring you articles on how to create canvas prints in-house; as well as other uses for them, than just displaying on a wall.

Stay tuned…
Cheers,
Diane

Kodak is da bomb.

If you had asked me a year ago if I would ever utter that sentence, my answer would likely have been a befuddled, “Um—no.”

I mean, let’s be honest: Things were looking a little bleak awhile back for the Rochester behemoth. Not only did digital throw a wrench into the gameplan for the company’s legendary film brand, but it called into question Kodak’s entire stature. The company had suddenly become a dinosaur in a digital technology landscape, a silver-halide throwback that was now forced to compete against a slew of shiny new gizmos and gadgets.

The company tried to compete, but it was initially an awkward sight to see—kind of like a favorite uncle who insists on sporting a Speedo long after he should have settled into his Land’s End swim trunks. Digital cameras were introduced, photo sharing debuted à la the Kodak Gallery—but it still seemed a Herculean task to break free of its comfy-old-couch reputation.

But things (and times) have changed. First, a hilarious Kodak ad made the rounds on YouTube. Kodak had a sense of humor, and they were finally showing it off.

Being the reality-TV addict that I am (some people drink—I drink and watch trashy TV), I was pleasantly surprised to next see the Big K featured on this season’s The Celebrity Apprentice. Contestants had to hawk Kodak’s mobile printing solution, the Easyshare all-in-one printer, to passersby, translating to supergenius TV promotion for the brand (though I would still love to know how Kodak execs felt when Gene Simmons told them they don’t know their own brand as well as he does). Kodak even devoted a mini-site to its 15 minutes of reality-TV fame.

Now the Rochester photo titan has fully entered the social-networking scene by naming Jennifer Cisney, a longtime employee, as its Chief Blogger. Cisney will provide oversight for Kodak’s two blogs, A Thousand Words, a blog featuring personal stories by employees, and A Thousand Nerds, talking about technology and innovation.

This is an important development in a couple of ways. First, Kodak is now speaking the language of the next generation of photographers. By entering the social-networking arena, the company can ensure that photography becomes the shared, global phenomenon that it’s meant to be, not just a random smattering of pixels trapped in the black hole of a memory card.

Second, Chief Blogger Cisney (which could serve as a really cool rap name if she wanted to upload an original hip-hop MP3 to accompany her posts) will, according to the company’s official release, “serve as the company’s eye and ears online, listening to customer feedback and sharing ideas and tips related to Kodak’s products and services.” Big Brother-esque? Who cares? If it helps me take better pictures and hooks me up with the best Kodak product to help me do so in the process, that’s all right by me.

Kodak also took this forward-thinking step with the right person in mind—Jenny Cisney is a well-regarded blogger and loyal Kodak employee (one of the comments on the Thousand Words blog regarding her appointment exclaimed, “Jenny as the new chief blogger, [how] great is that! We now will have to start calling her CB! She’s hip, cool…and dynamite—notice they both come in small packages! She’s all those things but more importantly, she’s all Kodak!”

Of course, I hope for her sake Cisney takes the time to read the New York Times article I came across yesterday about “death by blogging.” Two prominent technology bloggers actually allegedly “blogged till they dropped,” with some attributing their deaths to constant stress and deadlines of an “around-the-clock Internet economy.” Somehow I doubt Kodak’s C.B. will forgo all her basic human needs to talk all things photography, but let this serve as fair warning.

The company finally gets it, showing that you really can teach an old dog new tricks—and meaning that Kodak could very well steal Best in Show.

Since the solutions available to save and organize photos seem infinite in today’s digital world, we usually don’t find ourselves losing images–unless we forget to save, backup or have a damaged card.

Certainly professionals entrusting a stock agency with their images have nothing to worry about. For, they pay or enter into a contract arrangement for their images to be organized and protected like the FDIC. Right?

Well, not exactly. It may depend on your birthday. Enter those who began using stock agencies in the 1970s when analog pics, known as slides or transparencies (to the younger folk), were as “in” as cell phone texting is now.

Many of these predigital snappers have now found themselves stuck in a stock purgatory…looking for lost conventional images somewhere between what images were and what images are. And while this may engender existential questions like, ‘if you can’t ever touch a digital image again does it still exist?’, pro shooters Chris Usher and Arthur Grace would say an image exists because it was captured by them.

Thousands upon thousands of images these guys took during the 70s, 80s and 90s of celebrities, politicians and high-profile news events were lost by Corbis and are now part of the MIA . Missing Images of Analog.

Grace and Usher, as well as many other pros which made the switch from traditional to digital, had made agreements in the 70s or 80s with Corbis, a stock agency privately held by Bill Gates since 1989.

Corbis admitted to losing thousands of Grace’s images but went to court to battle out the value of the images. Dissatisfied with a ruling of just under $500,000 for between 40,000 and 60,000 lost images, Grace appealed the judgment by a U.S. District Court. He was finally awarded $677,685: this breaks down to $300,960 for lost income in the past, $237,728 for interest on that amount, and $138,966 for lost furture income.

In Nov. 2007, it was determined that Usher should be awarded $157,121 for the loss of 12,640 of his images.

There are many other clients of Corbis and Sygma, the French stock agency Corbis bought in 1999, in this same time-warp continuum. A-list photographer, Michael Grecco, settled a similar case of lost transparencies with Corbis in 2000. Although these judgments may seems like a lot of bucks in one helping, they shooters would tell you it’s not worth it.

“It’s been a very long time, and all of those missing images were pretty much selects and I’m very sad not to have them,” Usher told News Photographer magazine after the trial ended.

“Regardless of what they are worth - the money is nice but I’d rather have the pictures back - and a lot of the pictures were of [George] Bush, and [Al] Gore, and the campaign of the century that was ultimately decided by the Supreme Court, and it was all on film. I worked hard on that material; I know what was there because I see the outs, and I’m so sad that there’s so much of it that’s missing,” Usher added.

Can money ever really compensate image makers for blocks of history stamped out of their career timeline like photographic amnesia? Missing are original portraits of celebrities, White House documentations, Pulitzer Prize image nominees, Parisian photos, global images.

I don’t know about you, but I want to know. . .

WHERE DID THEY GO?

WHO or WHAT IS USING THEM?

No one really asked this question in all the court documents I pored through. It is accepted that they are lost somewhere in a dustry drawer, a hanging file or whatever.

According to Usher’s lawyer: “After nearly a decade of litigating lost image cases against Corbis on behalf of photographers, we have yet to hear an explanation or excuse for any loss of any image by Corbis.” He went on to say: “one in every four historical or photojournalistic images entrusted to Corbis by Usher were lost by Corbis.”

Unbelievable.

Can these huge losses be explained by the static technology of yesteryear? Well, among other points, Usher’s judge determined “that there were serious deficiencies in Corbis’ tracking and storage practices…”

Similarly, in the Grace appeal, it stated that “Sygma had no adequate means of tracking the inventory of images entrusted to it by any of the photographers it represented. Apparently, Sygma never had a system to keep track of its New York inventory and, starting in 1977, only a limited means of tracking its Paris inventory.”

These shooters have been put through the emotional ringer. In addition to their loss, part of the monetary argument was contingent on proving the “uniqueness” of the missing photographs. I imagine it was difficult not to transfer that from the images to themselves and their craft.

To these guys, those images still exist somewhere, if not in their mind’s eye. Perhaps cyberspace is not such a bad place when you compare it to no place.

Let’s give the lost images a moment of silence.