May 2008 Archives

Notes on a redesign

Celebrating the conclusion of my 5th year of successful freelancing I decided that JohnLoomis.com should have a new and dynamic home created this year that would be the website that I've always wanted for my photography. Originally I hoped to use the project as a launching pad to become an advanced web designer myself (I've designed every version of JL.com since the beginning), but that idea was eventually scrapped (see "Expert") because web design on that level is a distraction from my core goals. So I decided to hire a true expert and begin the process to help create the new site. A lot of us are (or will be soon) doing the same, so I thought I'd take some notes.

Before I even thought of making of list of designers, friends, and firms I'd like to approach with my project I began with a list of ideas and goals that the website should fulfill. Just like a photo editor needs to understand what they want with the direction of a story before they begin to call a photographer to shoot it, I wanted to have a clear image of the new site in my head before I both entrusted it someone else and allowed it to take the twist and turns I knew it would in becoming real. It began with a list of concepts/adjectives:

Permanent; dynamic; BIG; elegant; smart; expensive; image-based; updateable; cohesive.

Those few words had a few thousands words behind them which represented the history of JL.com and of my brand concept for my work and business. Because I've been so hands-on with my websites and branding I knew that I was basically a nightmare client -- knowing enough to be a total pain in the ass, but also knowing too little to truly handle it myself. Here is a condensed list breakdown.

Permanent, dynamic, & BIG: As the lead designer, I have routinely gotten bored with my site on at least an annual basis and (with a weekend of free-time from assignments) completely revamped the whole thing (because I could, and because my skills have never been significant enough to allow me to create something truly lasting). So one of the first big things I wanted with a redesign was to create something I could be happy with for a "long" while (3 years). The new site would be coming after many years of HTML DIY projects which worked well enough, but if I was going to hire someone to do something, it should be something truly dynamic and exploding the simplicity of my former sites. Ditto for the size and scale of the new project... it should be a statement; it should feel BIG. Capital Letters, shouting, "I Am Here, PE's, AB's, AD's, & CD's of the World!"

Elegant, smart, & expensive: I wanted the first impression of the new site to wow both in terms of the aesthetics of the design, but also in the fluidity of the UX. I wanted something very elegant and thoughtful, but not bulky or needlessly ornate. Though the new project would be a Flash site, it would use Flash to connect things seamlessly, present photography gracefully, and be ready with want you wanted when you wanted it (like a good waiter in a nice restaurant... there and not). The site would be smart; no intro movies, no shutter click sounds; nothing that makes you leap for the close window button. But on top of all of this yin/yang it would ultimately feel high end and expensive, meant to encourage the consideration of my work as a luxury item, not a space-filler. I wanted the new site to be fancy enough to stop some of the bullshit calls we all receive dead in their tracks before I ever had to deal with them. (Hi, I'm an art buyer from McDonald's... we want you to do some publicity photography for us, but I'm afraid our budget is only $450 including expenses). That may sound crass, but I wanted the first time that I talked to a new client to be concerned with photography ideas and possibilities, not budget.

Image-based, cohesive: Lastly the new site was going to be for and focused on photography. I wanted images to speak for themselves and not be dependent on elaborate text and menus upon submenus of information architecture. There should be a joy in exploring the photography, and a freedom of movement throughout the site, allowing users to experience the photography to their own preference (thumbs, BIG images, slideshows). Of course my new site had to have the flexibility and power of a custom backend that would allow me to simply and quickly add and delete new pictures, change text info in a bio, and manage the site without having to send off an e-mail and wait a week. And all of these words ultimately had to paint a picture of a unified set of ideas that made up John Loomis Photography, bringing together the many threads and styles all in a single home which gave them connections. With the new site I would almost certainly be dismantling the JLPFL.com advertising site test, and knew I would be searching for something whole.

To match the wish list was another smaller list of things that the website did not need to be. It did not need to (at this time), fully integrate my archive within my portfolio site; or present (future) multimedia work; or deeply focus on keywording/meta concerns (I knew I wanted a Flash site after all).

With all of those thoughts in mind I created a set of blueprints (Photoshop mockups) of what this dream site actually looked like in a rough sense. I matched those with as articulate and clear of a simple description as I could about what I was hoping to have created: new flash-based portfolio website with a modern, elegant, and dynamic design aesthetic focusing on images rather than words, powered by simple backend CMS solution. I had a short-list of other sites that were inspiring to me in the process (here and here, primarily), and perhaps most importantly I had a potential budget and timetable for the project: $10,000 to $15,000 and 3 to 4 months.

My project request went out to 8 potential designers, both small and large, half of which never got back to me in any real way (that's how it is, I wasn't upset). I got concrete bids from 3 firms and they ranged very widely, both above and below my budget. I got a lot of advice from friends, and considered working with a close friend on the project but decided against that for various reasons. Before choosing my new designer I got in touch with several of their former clients (always important), all of whom professed a deep admiration for their methods, communication (before, during, and after launch), quality, and delivery.

Ultimately the job was awarded to Arseni and iHouse Design largely because I found their sites to not only be done in a clean, modern style, but especially because they felt pretty bullet-proof, unlike a lot of other designers out there (where everything looks nice until you check under the hood and bug after bug appears causing a potential viewer to have to refresh and start over in the site). iHouse had a clear picture of what I wanted, an aggressive time-table that included a penalty for late delivery (my idea), and a pretty incredible budget (bang for the buck, wise). Working with Arseni, I received a full sitemap and the first round of designs (full mockups in browser) within a week of my initial payment! Last week we completed the design of the new site after at least 4 rounds of back and forth, and are moving on to the interface/UX before testing and then launch.

I'll close out this first post with some last notes on working with a designer. As I've already said Arseni has been great to work with, but communicating about design (especially without the right vocab) can be tricky, especially if you are a pain in the ass client (like me). After using straight up words to try to describe detailed corrections to the first 2 rounds of designs, I gave up and decided to literally bring the designs into Photoshop and use the much more plain and powerful language (considering my ignorance) of lines and symbols, using the pen, line, and annotation tools directly on top. The effect was immediate. The next set of designs was 99% perfect.

I would also advise anyone in the same process to think a lot about whether what they actually are looking for is a programmer instead of a designer. To some degree I was looking for both, but understanding the difference makes things much clearer if you want your own ideas executed exactly without creative input. A designer (more expensive, typically) is going to take your ideas and needs and run with them. A programmer (less $) is going to take your sketch and make it a reality. If you are already a good designer, or have a very, very clear idea of what you want, you may be able to save some cash by finding a programmer, but your overall project might suffer (especially in the details).

That's the end of Part 1 of this adventure. Sorry to not illustrate anything with examples of the new site, but it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I did, would it?! Part 2 will follow the new site's launch in early fall.

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My, my, me

Just wrapping up transmitting the final images from my last shoot (a really fun one for Bicycling Magazine) during a busy week down in the already sweltering Magic City, and I need to download some of the heavy thinking I've been doing all morning over the role of the Me in contemporary photography/modern media since reading (nearly got through 2 pages before I fell out of my chair while sputtering "who fucking cares?!") of the cover story in this weekend's NYT Mag. If you are scratching your heads, Rachel has a blurb about it as well.

The first two competing thoughts is that the pairing of a navel-gazing, blogger girl, writing about how revealing incredibly personal attitudes and details about her relationship might (ya think?!) not work out that well in the end, with self-centric extraordinaire art photographer Elinor Carucci is both a stroke of genius and almost, well, plain gruesome. That thought and gross aftertaste is quickly followed mentally by trying to settle myself down that ego in art (are those actually even two distinct words?) and photography is as old or older a pairing than the sun and moon, and that there is nothing inherently bad or wrong about any artist turing their medium on themselves, in fact there are all kinds of things wrong about some artists, especially photojournalists, if I can nudge it under the "A-word" banner, ignoring their own subjective contribution to any attempts at objectivity.

OK, I haven't said anything yet. So here goes... Even though I love many, many classical examples of self-examinations (van Gogh's self portraits, to just blurt out the first of a long, long list), and deeply admire any photographer who puts themselves into their work in theory or fact, I'm so fucking sick of the role of Me in contemporary photography, and by extension in all media. I'm so sick of the mental strain of hearing about someone talk about themselves as if they have lived so importantly or rarely that we need to hear about it again and again.

For the longest time I didn't get Brokaw's The Greatest Generation stuff and how he kept hammering that tune over and over, but now I really get it. The man was going to kill himself he was so crazy of all of the Me noise that is everywhere. He had to find people outside of his life to tell stories about who had something to share, who had lived! for fuck's sake.

What this cover story represents to me is continued and complete disintegration of people looking outside of their own lives, no matter how banal or arrogant, for the ideas and diving boards for their story-telling, true or fictional. We see this annoying slide all over the place, even in places that were once truly special islands of thought and concern, like the radio show This American Life, which recently seems to be nothing more than a never-ending march of mediocre writers telling mediocre tales from their typical adolescent memories in a monotone voice only slightly heightened by the producer's good taste in background music. So at this point if you have ever been slightly to severely depressed, or had parents who were, or maybe not but they got divorced, or maybe you watched too much TV, or maybe you grew up in the suburbs or were not the most popular kid, or are just a marginally good writer... then you too can broadcast your "personal reflections" on all of the not that interesting shit that has brought you to this moment in your life. How about another memoir of a 20-something year old?! Or maybe an independent film about you and your friends doing very little?! But whatever you do, do not forget the dead pan look/tone/mood, though -- that's everything, baby!

I'm sure Emily Gould is a cool person and that the story will mean something to many, even if it only serves to break out debates in coffee shops (I think that's the editor's hand seen right here, folks), and maybe even force parents to pad lock the laptops of America and force the kids outside (while they blog about how kids are spending too much time online).

But I'd like it to stand for the bigger point that even if your life is really interesting... someone else's is still infinitely more interesting. As important as any artist is in the choices of creation, they don't have to be both the medium and the message. You can have personal vision without only photographing your fucking self (in your bosses office, maybe...). Please get out of your own fucking heads, out of your doors, and go out and find something and someone that is worth describing. You are not the story.

In closing, to be fair and in full disclosure... I don't consider myself to be important in anyway to the viewing of my photography. Knowing anything about me is completely irrelevant I hope to learning about the subjects who have honored my work by allowing me access. Whatever grace I have documented or transmitted was not mine. Whatever skills I possess I hope to drain completely into the story and not my recording of it. My life and work are not the same thing. I would much rather be known as a good reporter than as a great artist. And my greatest desire is to lead an interesting life, filled with meeting many unique souls who have really lived, and share that in truth.

Follow-up: In a Q&A posted on 5/27 with some of the many, many comments (1200 at last count) that Ms. Gould's article received via NYTimes.com over the holiday weekend, Emily said she was now sorry for the choice of art that accompanied the story, and furthermore that she understands and expected all of this bashing. Sigh.

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Bust

I did another interesting assignment for The New York Times business section a couple of weeks ago about the incredibly high foreclosure rates in Miami's (many) dozens of condo buildings (across the board from low to high end), many of which were just built in the development boom that I began to photograph when I first moved to south Florida two years ago (turns out I was really looking at the death throws then). Though the story was not as graphic as we had been led to believe (big surprise), I really enjoyed mining for a sort of "evidence" approach, even more because I got the OK to use my now departed Mamiya 7 camera to do it. So all in all the assignment brought me full circle in more ways than one.

We (some realtors and an Italian investor looking to capitalize on the foreclosures) visited a few buildings in Brickell and I was pretty shocked to learn that a couple of these condo towers have foreclosure rates from 15-30% (not just unoccupied, but foreclosed). Now many floors in the buildings feel like a ghost town, with lock boxes covering doors, dirt and dust everywhere, and very dark hallways with bright yellow foreclosure notices pasted up. I guess just like in the Texas oil towns, if you believe the boom you gotta expect the bust.

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Caught up

While I've been sleeping on the blog a few things have stacked up lately that I've been meaning to share. Most notably, a couple of weeks ago I was honored to learn that my portrait of nurse Fonza Luke will appear in the 2008 CommArts photo annual. I've always liked flipping through each new CA, and am excited to land my first image in the book, especially for an image which meant something to me. Many thanks also go to Geoffrey Hiller, who has very kindly featured me on today's Verve Photo.

The above clip is from my portrait of Miami emerging rapper Ace Hood that appeared in June's XXL. On a related though sour note, due to a new and insanely shitty contract that they are asking photographers to sign, the Ace shoot was probably my last for the magazine and its sister pubs King and Rides (Harris Publishing) until they strike out the rights-grabbing language in paragraph 4 of said contract. I don't imagine they are worried about losing me as a contributor, but I would deeply encourage every photographer to think very carefully before signing their heinous agreement (which is effectively retroactive in its rights-grabbing back to every job you've ever shot for them). Regardlessly, here is another frame I liked from the gig with Ace, who was a great subject.

And here are a few more loose ends: a portrait of art collector and patroness Ella Fontanals-Cisneros shot for the German magazine Park Avenue, a pre-dawn landscape of my little townhouse community that is a part of a little personal thing I'm working on, and finally a couple of images from my coverage of the '07 Design Miami art fair for Elle Decoration UK (a portrait of photographer turned designer Stuart Haygarth in front of his "Drop Chandelier," and a detail of Mike Meiré's The Farm Project kitchen.)

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