You might be aware that I'm seeking a replacement for the fabulous Toyah, who departed at the start of the year, after a sensational 15 months of service here as my all-around assistant. She arrived with an interest in photography, but it soon emerged that her true strength was in digital post-production. She was a whiz at it, and she had an awesome work ethic. She would travel 4 hours every day to work here (2 hours on public transport from Bayswater, and 2 hours back) Now she's doing video editing. She set the bar pretty high for the next assistant. So every now and again I interview someone who approaches me wanting to break into this field. I offer free training, and open access to my mind: I tell them everything I know about everything in the business. It's an excellent way to learn. After all, photography schools in Melbourne charge $5000 per annum to students, and after 2 years of learning about film processing there, most of them emerge none the wiser about how a modern photography business actually works, or how to thrill clients with great shots. I can get a novice up to speed and ready for simple assignments in less than a year.
The last one I interviewed - a woman in her early twenties - won't be getting a job, but she does have a lesson to offer others in how NOT go about it.
Wrong Step 1: Send in an email that begins "To Whom It May Concern" (My name is up there on the site - can't you see it?)
Wrong Step 2: Attach a CV to it as a word document. (Photographers don't read CVs - they just want to see what pictures you've taken. There are no pictures attached.)
Wrong Step 3: Arrive to the interview with no printed portfolio. (All this woman has is a grubby CD with scrawled texta writing on it that says "pix". (Well, at least that's something. (Although, when I began about 9 years ago, I took a full year and over $5000 of my own money to capture the images and assemble a portfolio full of prints that were done by hand, and bound it in a beautiful leather box. The portfolio still looks beautiful in my shop, and you're welcome to see it.)
Wrong Step 4: Sit slumped in a chair with a grouchy expression, and decline my offer of a professional critique as we look through her shots on screen. (I try to look for the positives in the collection, and note those first. But the collection is terrible. There isn't a glimmer of hope in the whole thing; there isn't a single picture that people would pay for. I don't say that, of course. But I suggest she set realistic goals for her career, and remind her that this is the toughest game in town, and that standards in Melbourne are very high. At least, they are in my studio.) When i mention to her that her work shows that she's not ready for prime time yet, but that I'm looking for a volunteer assistant, she actually expresses annoyance. "I want to get paid," she says.
Wrong Step 5: Don't bother doing any research. (I mention some of the work in my site and ask what she thought about it. She hasn't looked at it. Any of it. She hasn't bothered to study my site before coming for an interview here! I am almost stunned into silence, and the interview comes to an abrupt conclusion. A mistake like that is almost understandable in someone of 15, but in one in their twenties, it's unforgivable.
I'm still looking for an assistant. Don't be afraid to call - I don't bite!
Joshua Winterson.