I read this and felt a kind of quiet validation—like someone had finally put into words what I’ve felt standing at the edges of the photo world. I’m a mother of two. I have an office job. I’ve always had to work while making art.
Not long ago, I sat across from someone well-known in this industry, someone who had agreed to review my work. They asked for my backstory, so I told them the truth. No prestigious school, no famous mentors, no insider connections—just the reality of how I got here.
Later, as we talked, they said something that caught against my ribs. That I wasn’t like the others. That my background wasn’t the same. A black sheep, implied. But then, an addendum: “But the work is good, that’s why you’re here.” As if the work had to fight against my history to justify its presence.
And maybe it did. Maybe it still does.
That moment hit a nerve. It made me more aware of the insecurities I already carry. How I avoid showing my face or hesitate to take up space because I don’t present or act the way I should. As if there’s some unspoken mold to fit into. And now, someone has confirmed it—acknowledged it out loud. I’m not crazy. Thank you, David Campany.
Thanks so much for reading Ashleigh, and I’m sorry to hear about that experience - I hope that what it revealed to you proved useful in some way, or that it will do. I also wonder if the reviewer saw your perceived difference as a strength in you, not a weakness. I appreciate the work Joanne Coates is doing around inequalities in photography, if you haven’t come across her already
Thank you for initiating this conversation. You both touched on many crucial ideas that have been swirling around in my mind, so read your back and forth on the matters at hand was very helpful to sorting out my thoughts.
Thanks for this. I first heard about the rejected podcast when Campany was interviewed on UNP by Grant Scott. It's lovely to hear more about that moment. I'm a commercial and editorial photographer who teaches business practices; students at every level of experience find the "fine art" world to be a black box, in part because of these perceived rules, which, while rigid, don't seem to actually make it any easier to participate in that world. They also struggle with preconceptions about what kinds of work gatekeepers such as photo editors and advertising art buyers are looking for. You both make a distinction between artists who are career-oriented and those who are not. One of the most difficult things to get across to my students is that knowing the "rules" may not lead to success. But it might! That lack of clarity, which is a weird thing to try to teach, is simply the way of the world, not limited to artists.
I can imagine - and I think that, unfortunately for artists, the ‘rules’ work more reliably in other industries because authenticity and newness (which we might also define as a willingness to break rules, disregard received wisdom, etc) are so essential in art, and they’re even harder to teach
There is an uncomfortable disconnect between what artists are told to do (be your true self, don't compromise your art) and being successful (getting paid and noticed). The fine art world is an industry just like any other, with its own culture. Gallerists, and even museum curators to some extent, have to produce income (be attractive to buyers and visitors) to remain financially viable. This may breed a kind of conservatism in choosing which artists - and what art - they will interact with. An artist producing unique work (whatever that means), interacting with a culture that praises the new and innovative, but acts conservatively may find their art not be accepted, hence, the disconnect. It's confusing for the artist! Sometimes for the gatekeeper, too.
Styles become popular because the culture says, OK, we like this, and then artists produce work that fits into that style, and on it goes. This is not a judgement on my part, it describes how culture works in the visual arts and other contexts. When an artist produces work that is perceived as new and innovative - personal - it can get more difficult to break through.
However, when an artist is able to connect with a gatekeeper who is sympathetic to them and their work and their taste, a path can open up. This connection is entirely dependent on the taste of the gatekeeper, their managerial position (how much they control what they do), and luck. Persistence as an artistic strategy, for most artists, is the only way through. Unless they just get lucky.
I have been meaning to leave a comment on your articles for a while now; your Substack is very good; I enjoy your interviews and your own musings on photography and books. This piece brings in it names like Deborah Levy, Man Ray, and obviously David Company, all of them valuable to me and my own artistic growth. Thank you and I'm looking forward to your future posts. Greetings from Romania.
Dear Alice, thank you for your publication. As I've been trying to grow my own publication called "The Work" here on sub stack I know how much time it takes. Looking forward to future essays.
I read this and felt a kind of quiet validation—like someone had finally put into words what I’ve felt standing at the edges of the photo world. I’m a mother of two. I have an office job. I’ve always had to work while making art.
Not long ago, I sat across from someone well-known in this industry, someone who had agreed to review my work. They asked for my backstory, so I told them the truth. No prestigious school, no famous mentors, no insider connections—just the reality of how I got here.
Later, as we talked, they said something that caught against my ribs. That I wasn’t like the others. That my background wasn’t the same. A black sheep, implied. But then, an addendum: “But the work is good, that’s why you’re here.” As if the work had to fight against my history to justify its presence.
And maybe it did. Maybe it still does.
That moment hit a nerve. It made me more aware of the insecurities I already carry. How I avoid showing my face or hesitate to take up space because I don’t present or act the way I should. As if there’s some unspoken mold to fit into. And now, someone has confirmed it—acknowledged it out loud. I’m not crazy. Thank you, David Campany.
Thank you, Alice for this thoughtful interview.
Thanks so much for reading Ashleigh, and I’m sorry to hear about that experience - I hope that what it revealed to you proved useful in some way, or that it will do. I also wonder if the reviewer saw your perceived difference as a strength in you, not a weakness. I appreciate the work Joanne Coates is doing around inequalities in photography, if you haven’t come across her already
Thank you for initiating this conversation. You both touched on many crucial ideas that have been swirling around in my mind, so read your back and forth on the matters at hand was very helpful to sorting out my thoughts.
Thanks, Matthew, glad to hear it
Thanks for this. I first heard about the rejected podcast when Campany was interviewed on UNP by Grant Scott. It's lovely to hear more about that moment. I'm a commercial and editorial photographer who teaches business practices; students at every level of experience find the "fine art" world to be a black box, in part because of these perceived rules, which, while rigid, don't seem to actually make it any easier to participate in that world. They also struggle with preconceptions about what kinds of work gatekeepers such as photo editors and advertising art buyers are looking for. You both make a distinction between artists who are career-oriented and those who are not. One of the most difficult things to get across to my students is that knowing the "rules" may not lead to success. But it might! That lack of clarity, which is a weird thing to try to teach, is simply the way of the world, not limited to artists.
I can imagine - and I think that, unfortunately for artists, the ‘rules’ work more reliably in other industries because authenticity and newness (which we might also define as a willingness to break rules, disregard received wisdom, etc) are so essential in art, and they’re even harder to teach
There is an uncomfortable disconnect between what artists are told to do (be your true self, don't compromise your art) and being successful (getting paid and noticed). The fine art world is an industry just like any other, with its own culture. Gallerists, and even museum curators to some extent, have to produce income (be attractive to buyers and visitors) to remain financially viable. This may breed a kind of conservatism in choosing which artists - and what art - they will interact with. An artist producing unique work (whatever that means), interacting with a culture that praises the new and innovative, but acts conservatively may find their art not be accepted, hence, the disconnect. It's confusing for the artist! Sometimes for the gatekeeper, too.
Styles become popular because the culture says, OK, we like this, and then artists produce work that fits into that style, and on it goes. This is not a judgement on my part, it describes how culture works in the visual arts and other contexts. When an artist produces work that is perceived as new and innovative - personal - it can get more difficult to break through.
However, when an artist is able to connect with a gatekeeper who is sympathetic to them and their work and their taste, a path can open up. This connection is entirely dependent on the taste of the gatekeeper, their managerial position (how much they control what they do), and luck. Persistence as an artistic strategy, for most artists, is the only way through. Unless they just get lucky.
I have been meaning to leave a comment on your articles for a while now; your Substack is very good; I enjoy your interviews and your own musings on photography and books. This piece brings in it names like Deborah Levy, Man Ray, and obviously David Company, all of them valuable to me and my own artistic growth. Thank you and I'm looking forward to your future posts. Greetings from Romania.
Thank you for reading, Crina!
Dear Alice, thank you for your publication. As I've been trying to grow my own publication called "The Work" here on sub stack I know how much time it takes. Looking forward to future essays.