The Photo Competition

Last year I found out that one of the local galleries hosts an annual black and white photography competition. This year I decided to enter. It's been one of those "learning experiences" we're told to appreciate. Phrased a different way: it's been painful.

Rules for photo competitions always look straightforward until you actually try to submit something. This one has an up-front screening process to weed out what makes it into the gallery. "Unmounted prints or slides". They're actually pretty explicit on this part of the requirements, and even bother to mention that submitted materials will not be returned. Three 8.5x11 prints and $45 in submission fees later, and I'm in.

Why three? I wanted to include at least one aerial, at least one traditional landscape, and at least one macro. Besides, I figured they'd can at least two of my shots, leaving only one to be printed large, matted, framed, etc.

Lesson #1 - If you submit it, you may have to print it.

Yep, all three pictures made it through the screening. So how to prepare the gallery prints? 18x24 is the maximum size called out in the rules. But are these maximum linear dimensions, or is it a square inch kind of thing? I punted on this question this year by submitting images that cropped well to that ratio, but some of my more printable pictures have 2:1 or even 3:1 aspect ratios. If it's a linear dimension limit, a 3:1 print would come out at 8x24. Historically, for this photo competition, every square inch counts and the larger the prints typically the more favorable the judging. Printing 8x24 would put any 3:1 panoramas behind the larger, more traditional aspect ratio prints. In the end I wound up printing 17x24 for one, and 18x24 for the other two. I'll wait 'till next year to submit panoramas. Printing for the three photos came out to $60.

Lesson #2 - Framing takes time.

Our submissions were due early in October, and we were supposed to have word whether our shots made it in by November 1st. Only none of us heard until closer to November 16th. Framed prints were due on December 1st, so that only left two weeks to print, mat, and frame the shots. I called the local frame shop, and they said there was a two week lead time on framing. Since I didn't have prints in-hand, that meant I had to find another way to get the framing done. In the end I wound up using an online framing supplier and bought Nielsen metal frames and mats cut to size. The supplier wouldn't ship glass through the mail, so I got acrylic.

When the package arrived I got busy. It wasn't until I'd started on my second print that I realized they'd cut all three mats to 17x24. With one week to go and no time to get replacement mats, I called the local frame shop to see if I could get them to at least make mats on a same-day basis. Lucky for me they were happy to do so. But because so many other people were getting prints framed for this competition, they were running low on certain supplies, like acid free mat boards. I got 6 ply mats instead of 4 ply, but they look nice.

Lesson #3 - Humidity is a bear

By the time I got the other two prints framed another fact of life in Hawai`i was staring me in the face: humidity. When I worked at the frame shop in Pennsylvania, any time we were doing archival framing we hung the prints in the mat using what's called a "linen hinge". Two pieces of acid free linen tape held the print at the upper two corners, and the print was allowed to drape across the mat aperture. This worked great, and when done properly would last for a hundred years or more. I did the same thing with my prints. Only with the huge humidity changes we get here, the print had expanded and buckled against the mat.

Times have changed, and now there are archival methods of dry mounting prints to acid free backer board. Next time I'll dry mount the prints and avoid the humidity issue.

Lesson #4 - Acrylic is fun for science projects

I had reservations about using acrylic. We did occasionally use it on super-huge prints when I worked at the frame shop, but for everything else we used glass. Getting glass clean can be entertainment itself, but conscientious application of Windex with a lint-free wipe usually got the job done. Still, we kept pieces of black velvet around to use as lint collectors once the glass was clean. On a bad day, it could take ten minutes or more to get a piece of glass ready. I heard there's a frame shop in Boston that bought up the cleanroom equipment from a chip manufacturer that closed its doors. That is a brilliant idea. If I ever go into the framing business myself, I'll follow their lead. The additional cost in HEPA filters is worth it.

Acrylic is a whole 'nuther ball game. It collects static charge the way kittens collect "Awwwww!"s. As soon as it's clean, something wants to stick to it. The very act of wiping dust off charges it even more. No matter what you do, the stuff is dirty. It's a pain. I did finally get the acrylic mostly clean, but it's not what I'd call a spotless job. Next year? Glass.

Lesson #5 - You have to show up

The framed prints are due in the gallery Monday the 1st. I've known this for over a month. They've been sitting in my office at work, ready to go. I could've handed them in Friday last week, but didn't. I wanted one more chance to see them before saying goodbye.

I've been scheduled to work at our remote facility, starting Monday the 1st. I've known this for a week. But somehow the two ideas didn't connect. Not until 2:30am Monday morning, anyway. I went from sleepy to bolt-upright awake in less than a minute, and even broke out in a sweat along the way. I still hadn't made caption cards, I still hadn't printed out the pricing cards. And they were in my office, not at home and certainly not in the gallery. I wouldn't get back into town until the gallery had closed. DOH!

I spent the next two hours printing cards, re-hanging the other two prints that were now suffering from humidity shifts, loading them into my wife's trunk, and trying to come up with a way to ask her to take my prints to the gallery. Now I'm going to go to work at our remote facility on about four hours of sleep. Next year? I'll plan to be in town when the pictures are due.

Lesson #6 - I know I'd do it again

Despite all the pain and anguish, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I just hope all three prints sell. After everything I went through, I don't want a single one coming home with me.

-- Tom