Print Competition Success
by Bill Hurter



I have a theory regarding print competition success that cuts across the lines of talent and technical innovation.  It accounts for why photographers have “big years,” in which everything they submit for competition scores well.

As one of the primary organizers of WPPI’s Awards of Excellence annual 16x20 print competition and the International Wedding and Portrait Photography Awards, a semi-annual 8x10 print competition, I get to see a lot of the same people competing year in and year out.

Inexplicably, I see scenarios like the following. Photographer “A,” who has been competing for the last several years with minimal success, all of a sudden starts placing prints in the 90s and starts to win categories and awards.  Not much is different between the submissions that earn this photographer accolades and the submissions of the past that didn’t.  What is different is how the images strike a chord (and accord) in the judges.  With the combination of style, intrinsic beauty, and a certain timeliness (perhaps a sense that the images are on “the cutting edge” would be a better way to describe it), this person’s prints are now being regarded very highly—and by a majority of the judges!

Call it experience on the part of the photographer, or maybe it’s just that the photographer’s time has come.  But it seems to be a matter of uniqueness.  It’s been my experience that the first time judges see a technique or visual concept executed to perfection, they fall in love with it, to the exclusion of many other types of more familiar image-making.  Take the evolution of wedding photojournalism, for example.  To be sure, this category is popular—hardly a studio in the land doesn’t offer some type of “photojournalistic” wedding coverage.  But as this genre evolves, we have been seeing elements of both fine art and fashion photography joining together to change the landscape of wedding photojournalism.

As judges grow more accustomed to seeing an evolved style of image-making, they become more discerning—more adept at separating great examples of the “new” art form from merely good examples.  That’s what judges do—they become more discerning, honing their critical powers of observation and understanding.

I have seen award-winning photographers who have won everything in some years win nothing in print competition in other years.  I used to think it was poor print presentation or perhaps even a “bad year’s crop” of images that caused these photographers to slide so drastically.  But I think it has more to do with the quality of uniqueness.  If a print looks similar to many that have gone before it, there is the tendency to view it as commonplace, even though it may be quite original and distinctive.

Anyone who enters their work in major print competitions must take into account the times and attitudes of the judges and the print viewing audience.  For example, no one can deny that the tragic events of 9/11 changed all Americans’ lives.  Those changed attitudes are noticeable in judges’ comments and in their scores.  Specifically, I noticed a swing in popularity this year towards images that project a solid sense of home and/or family values.

On a root level and almost subliminally, judges ask themselves several things about each print they evaluate: “Is this contemporary or have I seen it before?” “Does this photograph move me?” “Does the image possess style?”  And of course, the big one, “Does the image have impact?”  This, of course, is over and above the basic technical aspects of the print, which, if not carried out flawlessly will negate the asking of the above questions.  When a photographer suddenly bursts onto the scene, scoring well each time out, it is because a majority of judges are answering favorably to these questions.

What is perhaps the most interesting aspect of print competitions is that they are anonymous, at least they are within WPPI.  The judges do not know who the photographers are.  Yet with consistency the theory of uniqueness seems to play out—one photographer who scored an average of 91 among 11 prints in 2000 did not get one single 80 in 2001.  And this year, I noticed that every time a certain photographer’s prints came up, they got a warm glowing praise from the judges.  This photographer has been entering for four or five years and has never won a major award.  It’s astounding to see that a panel of judges will agree consistently about the work of a photographer in a given year. Perhaps the answer is more simple than you’d think.  Be unique!

Bill Hurter
4/26/2002