FotoFest: A review

I know a photographer who just got back from FotoFest in Houston and sent an e-mail out to her friends about her experience. With her permission (and all identifying information changed), I’m posting her e-mail here, as an inside look at the experience for all who’ve never been. (My only portfolio review experience has been Review LA, held in January in conjunction with photo la and sponsored by Center, which was much, much, much smaller than FotoFest and a really rewarding experience for me, although I haven’t done jack shit since being there—more on that later.) I’m sure there are as many stories about an event like FotoFest as there are people in attendance. For a different point of view, check out this post from Sarah Sudhoff. Meanwhile, I’m turning the mic over to Anonymous.

Hello, friends.

I am writing this while all the memories are fresh. . . . I thought a lot about all of you over the course of this week . . . about how much I encourage you to do things like this and I often felt like screaming, “It’s lies, all lies!”

I would very much weigh whether to do this review again. . . . It was held in a huge, anonymous hotel in downtown Houston, with views of a parking lot under construction and the freeway. The air was heavy and humid and going out for fresh air, meant going under ground to the 6 miles of pedestrian walkway tunnels to avoid the heat. There was nothing to see or do and if you didn’t have a car, you were screwed. We did get out a couple of times—interesting to see HCP—a nice space (could have been a car dealership or something) in a funky area. I must say there was photography everywhere—in restaurants, office-building lobbies, and the TPS show was in a hair salon (I didn’t see it) . . . but getting to all these venues would have been a full-time job and we didn’t have any extra time.

The event was a bit disorganized, and information was never shared—we had no idea if a good restaurant was nearby or, more importantly, a Starbucks. Evening activities were announced at the end of the final session each day, and if you didn’t have a review at that time, you were out of the loop. Some people got four reviews a day, others, five . . . and a woman was keeping a list for spur-of-the-moment reviews, but that was kept quiet.

Some of the reviewers had already been there for two weeks and, frankly, were exhausted. They were seeing about 20 photographers a day, and you were cursed if you got a late-afternoon slot. And because there are four review weeks, I think over 500 photographers were working the room. . . . You get the picture. This review experience felt completely different from Photolucida and Review Santa Fe.

I know that I brought too much work—I did cut back on the amounts for each series, but because my work is so varied, I thought something might work for someone. In fact, in two back-to-back reviews, I had one reviewer tell me that I shouldn’t have brought Project X as it was weaker than the other work, and the next tell me Project X was their favorite series. It was an emotional roller coaster. I met with a number of European reviewers, and sometimes language was a problem, but a few really got my work and that was nice. The reviewer most in demand was _____, and I managed to get her one afternoon. She had two men with her and spent the time answering two cell-phone calls—“I have a day job, you know”—and waving to people in the room. . . .

The best part was meeting other photographers, and seeing work I had admired in print and seeing who was attached to it.

My final review of the event was with a curator-not-ever-to-be-spoken-of-again who left me devastated. I went back to the room to pack and tried to hold it in, but thank god I had a window seat on the plane because I wept quietly the whole way home.

I am currently in a mental fetal position and plan to give up photography and get a job at Crate & Barrel. But that’s what you get when open yourself up for critique. And spending $2,000 to offer your work up on a plate to a broad array of photo personalities is something to really consider—I know it’s all part of the process and it helps clarify your mission and forces yourself to believe in your work, dammit. Maybe this will motivate me into a new place and someday I’ll be writing her a thank-you note . . . but I think I’ll skip reviews for a while.

Love to all and I’m ready to drink heavily next Saturday. And to think I could have purchased a cool camera with that $$$. . . .