It’s something I ponder. Did I pay too much for my pen? Probably. But then … maybe not.
I actually want to talk about pricing your art.
But before we get to that … tell me: what would you pay for a pen? A buck? Five bucks? Maybe fifty dollars for a real nice one?
I paid nearly 400 bucks for my Mont Blanc back around 2007. And what’s crazy is, at the time I was able to justify it. None of my justifications were rational, of course, but that didn’t make any difference. Point is, on a trip to Chicago I walked into a Mont Blanc store, saw this pen, and remembered how I had dreamed of owning a Mont Blanc ever since reading The Secret History, by Donna Tartt back in the early 90s … and my mind obligingly came up with all the reasons it needed to justify pulling out my credit card.
Now, it’s not so much the pen I want to talk about. It was ridiculously over-priced, sure, but it IS a great pen, I use it more than any other pen, and nine years later I STILL carry it with me and still love writing with it every day. (And for that reason, I suppose a case could be made that maybe 400 bucks wasn’t such a high price after all, given how much enjoyment it has brought me. Some of my best ideas have originated with this pen. I love this pen.)
The point I want to make here, however, is that the objective value of a pen has little to do with the pen itself. Unless it’s jewel-encrusted or something, a pen is pretty much a pen, and I got along just fine with my favorite Uni-Ball fine point disposable pens for years before I ever walked into that Mont Blanc store.
What was it then that I was really paying for when I bought my Mont Blanc?
Honesty … it was probably the same thing I was paying for when I bought my Leica:
The FEELING I got from owning it.
As well as (and this is just as important) the feeling I got from BUYING it.
Weird, right?
But I don’t think I’m alone. I believe that’s a pretty universal motivation behind many larger-than-normal purchases.
Including works of art.
Heck, offer most people a choice among low-, mid-, and high-priced options for just about anything, art or otherwise, and a surprising number will avoid the low-priced option almost by reflex. And if you give them a REALLY high-priced (luxury) option, you’re almost always going to have some who will take it just for the enjoyment in buying the best.
Back when I was shooting weddings, I worked with a photographer who routinely commanded fees of $10,000 and higher — not counting the album or any prints. And honestly, as talented as he was, I am convinced that one of the reasons he was able to book wedding after wedding at rates five times higher than his competition was that his clientele enjoyed being able to brag about what they spent on their wedding photography. It was that simple.
And fact is, had he charged less, I’m almost certain they wouldn’t have even considered him.
I experienced the same thing as I began working with those clients myself. One referral led to the next. And I just kept raising my prices. The work had to be good, sure, but here’s the thing: Each of those clients would likely have dismissed me entirely had I offered to do a canvas for only a hundred dollars. Why? Because they would have seen my work as only worth a hundred dollars.
And who is going to brag among their friends about that?
It’s funny how much our own delight in something can shift according to how much we pay for it. Someone buying a $15 poster print will never experience the heady exhilaration of the buyer who lays out $1,500 (or $5,000) on a one-of-a-kind canvas by their favorite artist.
Which buyer do you think is more likely to frame the work and hang it prominently in their home and savor the joy of seeing it every day? Which is likely to take the piece for granted, and end up stuffing it in a closet?
It’s been exciting this past year seeing so many of the students in the advanced AWAKE group get their work exhibited. And the success stories are wonderful. But I do wonder sometimes how many are pricing their work where it deserves to be priced.
Much of that comes down to the market you are in. It also has to do with how good the work is. That all goes without saying.
But beyond that — you enter the all-important realm of positioning.
Want to command twice, three times, four times as much for your prints and canvases? Simple enough. Position yourself and your work as being that much more valuable.
How do you do that?
Well, there are a number of ways (and I go into this in great depth toward the end of the AWAKE course, discussing everything from where you sell your work, how you print it, how it is presented), but here’s the simplest way to at least DOUBLE what you get for your work:
Take the price you are charging now … and multiply it by 2. That’s your new price.
Clever, eh?
Will you lose some sales by doing this? Probably. But you’re also apt to bring in some you wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. You might even find, as I did, that you get a LOT more sales. Again: people WANT to spend money on things they fall in love with. The more they spend, the more important the purchase feels. It’s the Mont Blanc phenomenon. Within reason, the more expensive it is, the more valuable it seems — and the more exciting it is for those who buy.
The last thing you want to do is mark your work down to where it feels like a commodity. I’ve seen artists price their work really, really low, simply out of a desperate hope to sell something, anything, to anyone.
Ironically, this usually backfires. And what really ends up happening is, with your work priced lower, people see your work as being worth even less — so you sell even fewer prints … which then seems to confirm your self-doubts, making you feel even worse about yourself … leading to you then either lowering your prices even further or driving you to throw in the towel altogether, convinced that the world is filled with philistines and that it’s impossible for an artist to make any money in this world.
Here’s a perfect example. Gary Henderson, one of the pro photographers in the AWAKE group, related this story to me:
I have a piece, of which I have sold 9 prints. NONE of the prints sold for less than $295 (for an 11 x 14), and the big ones sold for WAY more.
I was asked to submit a piece for an art show at the Garde theater in New London, CT. I was supposed to specify a percentage of the sale price to go to this theater’s efforts to provide a venue for artists.
Since I had an extra 11 x 14 laying around (mounted on mat board), I sent it up, and told them to put it in a white frame with a white mat, and price it as they saw fit. I was going to donate 100% to the Garde. (New London is my home town, and I used to go to movies and theater productions there when I was in grammar school.)
They priced it at only $60.
It didn’t sell.
They reduced the price to $47.
It STILL didn’t sell.
They asked if they should return it to me. I suggested they get a local framing gallery to donate a nice framing job, and that they then auction the piece off. Not sure of they are going to go that route or not. But properly matted and framed, this piece should bring $500 – $700.
But here’s the thing: If this was my first “sale,” I might have been devastated. But given my experience, I look at this as clearly being a case of under-pricing a piece and thereby devaluing its worth. Because it was priced so low, all those seeing it just assumed it couldn’t be worth much.
Now, none of this is to say you should go add $1,000 to the price of all your prints and canvases. Again, it depends a great deal on your market, depends on your positioning, and quite frankly depends on how good it is.
But I’m betting you could get more than you are asking now.
And I’m betting you would actually sell more if you asked for more.
In time, if you really can dial in your positioning and attract the right clientele, you could probably sell a LOT more, while asking the kinds of prices that right now would probably make your stomach flutter and your palms sweat.
As a working figure — a place you should feel perfectly safe when starting out — I suggest you go to a site like MPix.com, put in the image size, and get canvas price or add in a reasonable matte and frame for a print, and see what it comes out at …
And whatever it would cost, double that figure.
That’s where you start.
Eventually you might go higher (and probably will) but the way I see it, you should at least be making as much for your art as the printer is going to make for printing, matting, and framing your work.
If you look at the number and it completely freaks you out, maybe cut your profit margin in half and start there instead. But I encourage you to test it. Go a month at the lower price, then a month at the higher. See what happens.
Then, after that, put your focus on enhancing your positioning. Explore the various ways you can make your work (and you, yourself, as the artist) seem more exclusive, more exciting to your buyers.
Do it right, and you might find yourself playing in a whole other league.
And to your surprise, your buyers won’t mind. Not these new buyers you begin to attract. Trust me: they will love your work all the more, talk it about it more, and ultimately feel better about themselves for having purchased it.
– Sebastian
Postscript: Reading back over what I’ve written here, I do want to clarify one thing. Your goal in selling your work as an artist might NOT be to make money. (Assuming you even want to sell your work at all.) Odd as it might seem, I know serious artists for whom money is an afterthought. You might have an entirely different thing going on. And that’s perfectly fine. More than fine. Indeed, I’m fortunate enough to be in that position myself. I don’t need to sell canvases anymore. The courses I teach (and particularly my work with the advanced AWAKE group) are where my focus now belongs. This is my life’s work. And because of this, while I’ve had many tell me I should double or even triple what I charge for my courses (given how much value I’ve packed into everything I create, and how much I continue to add), I’d prefer to keep my courses affordable and reach more aspiring artists. Other artists might wish to sell their work, but for them what matters most is changing the world in some way. So for them money is secondary. Only you can decide what is important to you, even down to whether you sell your work or not. Because ultimately, only you can decide what “Living the Photo Artistic Life” means to you. It is something you should think about though. And if you ARE selling your work (or hope to), I believe my advice here should help you price your work more successfully.