The Unglamorous Truth About Making a Living as a Professional Photographer

Most people wildly misread what a photography career actually looks like. The gap between what gets posted online and what the work actually involves is wide enough to wreck your expectations if you're not paying attention.

Coming to you from Justin Mott, this candid video pulls back the curtain on what a two-decade professional photography career actually looks like from the inside. Mott has shot for the New York Times, landed work in a Leica ad campaign seen in magazines around the world, and built a commercial production company in Hanoi. He's upfront that he's probably in the upper tier of working photographers in terms of consistency and client quality, and he makes that point deliberately: even at that level, the career looks nothing like what social media suggests. You don't see the posts about self-funded photo books that lost money, the year-long personal projects that earned nothing, or the hotel trade where you swap three days of shooting and two days of editing for a free meal and a few portfolio shots.

The wildlife work people associate with Mott is a good example of the gap between perception and reality. When his rhino images ran in a Leica campaign, people assumed he was being paid to fly around the world telling dramatic environmental stories. He funded that project himself. He set up access himself. Much of his New York Times work, which sounds impressive on paper, was business stories and economic coverage for newswire services. He describes one assignment to photograph a bird thought extinct for 40 years in central Vietnam, a week of hiking through jungle that produced around 500 frames of a researcher looking through binoculars. Another job, a luxury cruise for a gourmet travel magazine, turned into four stranded days after the staff writer quietly informed him the food wasn't good enough for their readership and the guests were the wrong demographic.

The commercial side of photography is where the real money tends to be, and Mott is specific about the numbers. He's worked with clients who pay $10,000 to $15,000 a day when usage rights are included, but he didn't land that tier of work consistently until his early 40s. And even then, a client giving you 20 days a year at that rate can vanish the next year because of a new creative director or a budget shift. He describes the actual rhythm of luxury hotel work, the kind his production company M Visuals does regularly, as mostly moving through room categories on a tripod, carefully lighting suites, bathrooms, and conference rooms, sometimes taking 50 composite shots to get a single clean room image. Not yachts and champagne, though that does happen occasionally. One stretch he describes captures the range well: 10 days shooting a luxury hotel, then a conservation story for CNN in a village guesthouse that paid around $200 a day, then a corporate portrait, then a fabric softener commercial, then a TV show he was hosting about photography. That kind of swing was normal across his entire career.

Mott is now 47, running a production company with his wife, still doing assignment work, and still feeling the rhythm of unpredictable months driven by whether the right email shows up. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Mott, including how he thinks about the quiet stretches, what he's built around the gaps, and what he'd tell anyone trying to build something real in this industry.

Alex Cooke is a Cleveland-based photographer and meteorologist. He teaches music and enjoys time with horses and his rescue dogs.

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4 Comments

As I was told more than thirty years ago, it's feast or famine. But, it sure beats a "real job".

I run my small photography business two days a week and I have a day job which is three days a week. That three days a week is a guaranteed income every week which pays off my mortgage my bills my food and then whatever I make from photography is a bonus. It is actually incredibly difficult to make it as a full-time photographer where I live. It's a town of only 40,000 people in the remote place. Yes it's beautiful here for landscapes but people here have got no money or they don't like to spend it the nearest big city is 450 km away and that city is the most isolated city in the world Perth Western Australia so I've come to the conclusion that I'm better off just doing what I'm doing making money and saving money then trying to make it as a full-time for photographer there's no badge of honour in that to be honest, I quite like my day job and enjoy my photography Trying to make it as a full-time photographer was impossible and trust me my work networking and social media as well.... Trying to make it as a full-time photographer was impossible and trust me my work networking and social media so took the pressure off and the smart move. I think too many people try and make it full-time and they realise how difficult it is.

Relentless sales and marketing is the only way to survive in business. And not just the passive sort of social media marketing that artists think will launch a career. As a college graduate 50 years ago, I landed a job in sales for a national printing company, seemingly a misfit for a shy introverted kid. The only thing I really liked about the job was being able to duck out for a round of golf once in awhile without my boss knowing it. But I struggled meeting my quota. My boss took me out to lunch one day and said "Edward... if you just get out and make cold calls every day, get your face in front of at least ten prospects a day, no excuses, and even if your salesmanship skills are lousy, you'll do fine."

He was right. Discipline to do what didn't feel comfortable but necessary was the path to success. Two years later I started my own printing and graphics business. And even though technology has changed considerably since then, and expectations are a little different -- clients don't often answer the phone or an email, and rarely talk with someone who walks in the door -- people still largely buy as a result of a relationship with another human. So somehow, someway, you have to find a way to connect with prospective customers. Having a passion for what you do helps. It's kind of funny because my roots in printing have evolved but I still would imagine no better work than something to do with ink on paper. Even as I've landed in my 70s, I enjoy introducing my photography and showing my prints. But it may never have worked out that way if I hadn't learned to force myself to get in front of prospects.