Breaking up is hard to do.

 "It's not the clients you keep that make your business successful. It's the clients you fire." And, "The quicker you fire them the better." 

Today I thought I'd write about something topical to my business. And offer some perspective about the way I handle clients who've become less fun or less well aligned with the way I work. 

Many years ago I was asked to donate my photographic services for a charitable organization. Each year I would show up and photograph their fundraising gala at a posh hotel and make prints to send out to donors. And during the year we might have a quick "cattle call" headshot session and make portraits of 5 to 10 people who were hired into the organization. Not a big time commitment, for sure, but I felt good about doing the work because I really liked the goals of the organization and the founder was/is a good friend. 

But people move on and organizations grow. 

At some point all of the people I started with on the adventure left to either continue the work elsewhere (new national office) or to pursue other interests. 

Now, the people I started this adventure with had no clear titles and no experience with photography and its potential. They left the working methodologies to me and counted on me to know what to shoot and how to shoot it. I worked autonomously. And I'm always fine with that. In fact, I prefer it for this kind of work.

As the organization grew and my friends peeled off a corporate structure of sorts evolved. Heads of finance were hired. Specialists in various legal fields were hired. A new director replaced the interim director. And, more cogent to my experiences, a new marketing director was hired. It was a person half my age and possessed of absolutely zero experience commissioning or using photography. But they liked the idea of control. And they slowly but surely started to exert control over how I practiced my photography and had a growing list of parameters that they thought I should follow. 

At some point they decided the organization had grown large enough to actually pay a small amount for each project or event I photographed for them. And, I think the sub-conscious logic of paying for a service comes with an assumption of control. In other words, if you pay someone they move from donor status to vendor status and vendor status comes with guidelines and demands. Interestingly, payment was never something I had requested. I was happy to donate my services as long as I was having fun/satisfaction.

Still, the time commitment was minimal; a couple days a year, and I still liked the intentions and the successes of this non-profit organization. But I increasingly felt that the marketing director and I operated with a underlying current of ever growing friction. Their email became more minimal and terse. Their "oversight" more micro-management than collaboration. Their expectations started to diverge from the way I like to work. And I'll be the first to admit, I am headstrong and liked my way of doing things. 

At some point a relationship like that doesn't work for either party. I sent an email and asked if we could "clear the air." This evolved into an hour and fifteen minute telephone conversation which started with acrimony and defensiveness on the client side but ended up being collegial and gracious by the end. I explained what was causing me frustration and they did the same on their end. Eventually we both came to understand that the progression from autonomous teammate donor to vendor status was at the heart of the issue. My suggestion was that the marketing person would be happier working with someone more aligned to their needs. Someone young and enthusiastic who could benefit from the exposure the association might bring (and I reminded them that with their next photographer it would be nice and appropriate to give them photo credits anywhere they could). Someone who could grow with the non-profit and also grow their working relationship with the marketing person and vice versa.

By the end of the call (NOT a Zoom call !!!) we both agreed that it would be in the best interests of both parties if we ended our vendor/boss relationship and moved on. I converted back into an actual donor (yes, I still contribute financially to the charity, as I have for 20+ years) but I would no longer photograph for them. 

I thought I'd be a bit let down to relinquish the account but my original contributions were originally meant to help my friends get the non-profit off the ground and become successful --- and we did that. My allegiance in one regard (the social aspect) was to the first crew. The people with the big vision and not to the successive functionaries. The people I would sit around with and have a celebratory glass of wine  after a successful project. Since I had no real social relationship to the current management team there were no moments of regret or feelings of loss. Just a feeling of completion. A closing of a circle.

The organization is growing. My photos helped. But it had been obvious to me that the photos they've needed for the last five or so years have only required entry level skills and could be handled by someone entering the field and didn't require the ego and the expertise of someone with decades of experience and a calcified way of working. 

The comparison was stark last week as I finished up a contract for an international client's next project. A project with much complexity and a budget bigger than a new car; and in the same day was asked to come over on a specific day at a specific time to shoot one headshot against a very specific background for a fee that might finance a good lunch. 

There is always ego involved even when I know there should not be. I really don't think the marketing director at the non-profit knew or knows anything about my background. They just "inherited" me from previous management and I was the path of least resistance. They had no idea about my teaching, advertising or writing background. My roster of clients. My investment in my work. But maybe a client doesn't need to know all that.  They just knew to call and I would show up. No one was wrong here. Just different ways of communicating and working. Perhaps a generational disconnection. And a little lack of curiosity. Maybe on both sides.

The nice thing for everyone in a situation like this is we all get a clean break. They get to explore new options and try new vendors. They'll find someone who will work well in their system. 

On the other hand I get to remove a source of friction and concentrate on more profitable and fun stuff; or more swimming. As my partner would say, it's yet another step towards downsizing and doing my own projects instead. I think she means transitioning out of commercial work...

Hopefully the industry always wins because we've opened up an opportunity for a new person to evolve as a commercial photographer. We've educated our former "client" in a respectful but information filled manner and we've established with them an understanding of fair compensation for the new photographer along with respect for giving photo credit and working with an understanding of copyright laws. 

We parted the call as friends and allies. Both committed to the organization's success.  That's the best one can hope for. 

Finally, although I used the word "fire" just under the photo at top it's not really accurate. I should say instead, "resigned." It's more accurate. At some point things come to an end and a lot of us have a tendency to hang on to what we know. Fear of the future? Fear of loss? Or just another notch in the personal loss of relevance? Or all three?

"Know when to fold em."