HERE IS HOW IT STARTED
Everything started in a rather noble way, at the end of my photography studies. My teacher, Gilbert Fastenaekens, liked my way to see pictures, related to other pictures, rather than focusing on an exhibition like the other students. So he left me his publishing house, ARP editions. Like Obelix [a famous 1960s comic book hero], I was pushed into the cauldron. I ran ARP on a voluntary basis for five years, while working as a framer and doing other jobs. Eight years ago, I quit the publishing house, because there was not enough guts, not enough narrative or graphic ambition.
At a time when everyone said the paper is dead, the only idea that came to me was to start a bookshop. It took me two years.
Someone introduced me to someone who was selling his space. Lots of potential, because in a street mainly with single-family homes, not a hyped area, with no other cultural centres, it was an island. Perfect. I put all my savings in it and it took me a year and a half to renovate.
The bookshop started with my own collection of books that I bought when I was a student: two linear meters running 40m2 on the ground and 3.70m high, so not much.
The idea was doubly utopian: to sell my own books that I really loved, wishing that in a year or two, I’d be able to buy them back on internet or in a bookstore. That’s what happened. People put their confidence in the project, not that of a subsidised person, or an institution, but just of a photographer who was selling the books of other photographers, who saw the books with photographs not as they would cookies or other items sold at a checkout. So it is thanks to the community that the project was born.
Two meters running have become four meters. I put forward self-published books because I did not want to enter the distribution system of other bookstores: a system that’s all about standardisation of choice. In all major bookstores in Paris or Brussels, the same three big distributors flood the market with the same titles. And so I told myself there is no point in opening a bookstore that presents the same things that a bookstore in the city centre does. So I seek and seek all the time, in Belgium and abroad. I started to run fairs, to bring in books of photographers or authors who cannot move—because it is a fragile market, when you sell a book you do not earn a lot of money.
TELL US ABOUT YOUR APPROACH TO SELECTING BOOKS
Trust is created in a disembodied way, you send an email to someone who has put all his savings in his book. You tell him: ‘here you must trust me, send me your books, I won’t take them on deposit, but will do my best to sell them.’ Every time we buy books, we take a risk. It’s inevitable. The photographer realises this, and that in fact there is a human relationship created, an artistic relationship, a long-term relationship. It doesn’t take just a week; the discussions can last three to six months. Then I have to think about how to talk about the book, often there are books nobody has written about. How to find the words to transmit to people who are in my neighbourhood, or on internet, to make them understand that this author’s book, that we have never heard of, is interesting.
I like to put very complex books in the hands of people to see their reactions so that after, when I send an email to the author, I tell him ‘these people reacted like this to your book.’
Carmen Winant’s book My Birth for example, is very interesting, because we see deliveries: her delivery, that of her mother and the women she found on the internet. And we see how a young generation of photographers reacts to that, how older ladies or men react to that. It’s very rich for the author, but also for me—to not know an audience but be able to put stories on a taboo or intimate subject into their hands.
WHY DO YOU AVOID JUMPING ON THE BANDWAGON TO STOCK THE LATEST BIG THING?
For me a book has no age, it can be still interesting in six years. In large bookstores, it is a perishable object, because they impose a return on the distributor. The deal is that you get 30,000 books a year, but you have the right to send back 25,000. That means that when people find that there are a lot of photo books published every year, that’s true, but it’s a lure. All the books you see on the shelves of some bookstores that change every week are only because the libraries do not take them, they take them in stock and send them back. That’s why many booksellers say they’re just doing cartons.
I do the opposite work. I believe that it is micro stories that speak in the long run. It’s a curatorial job over time. I have books that are there from the beginning of the bookstore, which I think are important, so I will not send an email to the artist to ask him to buy me the books back because I want to make room. It’s a commitment to another type of culture promotion.
ANY ADVICE TO PHOTOGRAPHERS WHO WANT TO PUBLISH A BOOK?
It is necessary to try not to compromise too much on the basic idea. Then, we must understand that the basic idea will have to enter a new geography. This is not a geography of the exhibition, or the hard drive, things you see on display on your screen. We have to see how far we can go, how much creative freedom we can take; and how far we must not go. An object we want to put into hands but is impossible to handle, a book we can’t get into, can’t understand. Books like this may be interesting from the point of view of research, but if you want to make a certain run of edition, will people understand? Are we going to be a little too haughty from the point of view of form and concept?
Of course it can be a choice, an attitude to only address a niche audience, but that attitude is not mine. If do not understand it, I will not be able to explain it. Every week, someone comes in and asks me to explain a book, and I can’t reduce it to a series of images with keywords, it’s not enough for me. I am sure that the more we educate people to demand more from a story, the more the more the author will demand of himself. What matters is integrity and requirement. And in between, plenty of essentials to consider, like accessibility in terms of history, and how one can convey the story.
WHAT ABOUT A BOOK MOVES YOU TO TAKE IT?
I have real surprises. Every summer in Arles and other festivals, there is someone I do not know who comes with his story that I do not know and I cry! It may sound very naive, but when the person gets true, naked, you can’t treat her as a customer, but a human being. It’s just how the person presents the work, how it represents his or her convictions, its relation to his or her journey. You have to be very aware of yourself, to your feelings about a job, and if something emerges from that, let it emerge, it has to come out. But it’s not because a job moves me that [I take it], it can be a very good job and a very bad dummy—there are still a lot of steps.
And as much as I can be moved, I can be very angry at some publishers who edit very badly, who print badly. It annoys me when publishers print too fast because they think that there is a demand and that this demand must be fulfilled. There is also [the pressure of] a distribution chain that asks you to send the titles of the books three to six months in advance and so the publisher says to the artist, ‘We have to be quick now and print this book,’ and the author says, ‘Ok, you’re sure?” And the publisher says, “Yes, yes, yes I am sure.”
Sometimes there are choices that must be slower; graphic designers, publishers, who take a year or two before finishing a book, and that’s normal. I’m sometimes shown dummies almost finished, but it’s not perfect, I tell the photographer ‘You give them ammunition’ because I do not want people to end up like this.
So the requirement is not from the commercial point of view. Of course there is a business, they pay €3,000 or €8,000 to print the book, but if the book is good, no matter the price of production, it will sell, people will come with their money. The first notion is that the work must be right.
WHAT DO FAIRS AND FESTIVALS CONTRIBUTE TO THE CULTURE?
There’s difference between a festival and a fair, Paris Photo is a fair, they are here to sell. A festival is more focused on research. At Unseen you will see forms not saleable, not directly marketable. There is a lot of hypocrisy in Paris Photo. People who say that the photo book market is in crisis, maybe because they can’t renew their vocabulary around a work, they can’t get a work out of the boundaries of a frame, and out of this frame there is a gallery. They can’t do it because they are merchants and there are too many merchants and not enough artists who talk about their own works, and that’s why there’s this revolution of self-publishing, artistic revolution, and not commercial, but one leads to the other anyway. When we are facing the author, he reveals information to you about the work, about some characters. A gallerist can’t tell you that because it is not his job, because in fact he is a merchant and disillusioned because he never sells enough.
IS THE BUSINESS IN CRISIS?
Booksellers say that the book is in crisis, and, you know why? Because you have the same books as your colleague in the same city. What if you have other books with more complicated titles and that you defend them, on the social networks or in your bookstore? If somebody enters and tell you that he’s interested in architecture, yes very well, I will show you a photographer who works for example on places of conflict, architecture seen in places of conflict. Either you show him the catalog raisonné de le Corbusier, or you show him a new author who can shift his relationship to his notion of architecture: ruins in relation to the reconstruction in Palmyra, or in a country he only hears about in the news.
I do not put a book on my table in a festival if I do not understand it. I quote this example of an Iranian artist who has worked on her own story. She had chemo and after that she had a hysterectomy. How does a man, a publisher, a bookstore owner explain this? I may have had a vasectomy, but I am not female and have never experienced such damage to my body. I can explain the elements of the book and that there are human elements. But how do we adapt our speech to the person in front of you, who holds the book you’ve just explained and tells you ‘Yes I know what a hysterectomy is, I had one.’ Ok. We move to the next level. And so that’s what’s exciting. By renewing one’s vocabulary with each book, with each author, understanding it, you can speak differently each time, it should even be an exercise. I’m building a workshop room behind the bookstore for that: I ask you to explain your work in four different ways, it’s not a business pitch to sell something, it’s to see how we can explain a work from several points of view, as with multiple cameras, and it is essential.
Sometimes I get quite angry that people do not explain the work. I’m not a politician, I’m not one who’s used to talking in front of people, but I’m used to people I do not know asking me to explain a work. I will not just say it’s a new book, or it has received two awards. It’s not enough for me. We must go further.
HOW DO YOU BEGIN TO EXPLAIN YOUR WORK, THE SHOP TO THE UNINITIATED?
It’s a challenge actually, that I like to meet, when people come not knowing what is the shop about. People must be accompanied a little bit. If we open our bubble a little bit we can receive new information. If we do not open our bubble to other trades too, to other people, then we will continue to roll freewheeling, until the next person who says the market is in crisis is right.
The market is tired of always seeing the same faces. That’s why we have to try to find solutions open to people who never see photography, who’ve never seen a photographer [producing anything] different to what’s in the mainstream news feed, that’s the challenge.
For example, with the African storyteller, you sit down and you shut up. You just fully listen to them. We’ve lost that: the tale, the richness of the tale. Without it, the thing is only to sell or not to sell, or try to convince. But we must not try to convince people, it is useless. People are clubbed all week by other people trying to convince them to buy this or do that, and we are far from this type of trade. We aren’t here to convince. We are here to pass on tales, at least in my opinion.