How not to sell photo books

It pains me to say this but Powell's Books is no longer the best place in Portland for photo books. It has been dethroned by Ampersand. This trend has been gradually developing for the past few years, ever since Ampersand was founded in 2008. But until recently the contest was less settled. A case could be made for either store, depending on what type of book one was looking for or what price range. Certainly Powell's held the edge when it came to sheer volume, and for used books, while Ampersand had the trendy new titles.

But several visits to both stores over the past few months have convinced me that Ampersand is now the clear victor, and the gap seems to widen with each passing month. More and more the stacks at Powell's take on the sheen of an old antique shop. The shelves are lined mostly with undesirable detritus which sits idly month after month. Maybe someone comes along with a duster occasionally. New books still filter in on a regular basis, but they are generally limited. There are no books, for example, by Mack, Morel, Little Big Man, TBW, Radius, A Jump, Little Brown Mushroom, Dashwood, Gottlund, or Loosestrife. No books from this list. Twin Palms, Steidl and Nazraeli make occasional appearances at Powell's, but often as used books, sold by chance rather than by plan. 

Ampersand

In other words, a trip to Powell's is a time warp back to the early 90s before the current photo book renaissance ever happened. I should know, because the early 90s is when I first began going there. Back when I got into photography the Powell's photo section was my de facto learning library. It was crammed into a windowless downstairs hall, near where the book statue is now on the corner of 11th and Couch. Around 1995 I began a habit of scouring the stacks every few weeks, and that's where I built most of my photo book collection, at least in the early years.

But even when I didn't buy books there I used Powell's to teach myself. I could see who had made what. Which titles were important. Which books stayed in print and which were remaindered. Which books were worth what. I could see what was new, what was old, and basically what was what. I'm eternally grateful for that resource, because for photographers more than for any other art form, books are the way we communicate. When a photographers wants to send a statement into the world, he or she does it between two covers. And for a while Powell's was the best at collecting these communiqués in one spot. Certainly it was the best in Oregon, and maybe on the West Coast. 

I kept visiting the photo section over the years, regularly looking and buying, through the remodel, to its current location on the third floor. The catbird seat! With windows overlooking the city below. Clearly someone in Powell's management valued photo books. There was a filter, and once a book had made it through to the floor, it was treated with respect. It was part of a special group, the photo section.

Powell's (Photo section highlighted)

That's why the condition today is disappointing. The photo book landscape has changed radically since the 90s but Powell's hasn't. Sure, their stacks are still a great resource for learning the canon, with standard works on Frank, Parr, Atget, Arbus, and the other usual suspects. But when it comes to current photography, Powell's seems uninterested. Their main publisher of recent books is friggin' Aperture. Need I say more?

Enter Ampersand. When Myles first opened his shop, he borrowed a page from Powell's philosophy, selling a combination of new and used titles. I think it was roughly an even split in the early days. In 2011 the space doubled, and gradually the mix shifted, or perhaps Myles just sold off his used inventory. For whatever reason the store now stocks mostly new books. But not just any. Every book in the store seems carefully considered. No titles wind up there by accident. Often I will hear about new books online which sound promising, but they are expensive and I don't want to fork out money sight unseen. If the book is worthwhile, there's a good chance I can see it at Ampersand. 

OK, so the grand old bookstore fades while the small boutique shop gains a footing. It's a familiar story, the tale of American bookstores everywhere. Over the past decade thousands of independent bookstores have closed. Because the basic equation is tough. If a customer has a sense of what they want, why visit a store? Why not buy online for less money and have it show up in the mailbox? Better yet, why not buy the e-Book and have it delivered digitally? I don't envy the business climate. Even though I buy a lot of books, I wouldn't want to sell them.

So what's a bookstore to do? The divergent strategies of Powell's and Ampersand may point the way forward. What Ampersand realizes is that a bookstore isn't just a merchant. It's a special collection on display. And the way a collection works is similar to a museum. A collection reflects a conscious mind, one which has carefully curated work, organized it, and decided what to show and what not to. When a person enters that collection, especially after several visits, they learn to trust the curator. They know that if something shows up in the store, chances are it will be worth looking at. This is why people museums charge admission while antique shops are free.

I don't patronize fashion boutiques but I imagine they operate by the same principle. A shopper learns to trust the taste of the owner. Whatever they find in the store will have the imprimatur of pre-selected cool. This is how a customer can discover new projects, stuff they didn't even know they liked. And after a customer has spent some time browsing the collection, there's a bonus. They can go home with something! Amazon can't compete with that. Barnes and Noble can't compete, nor can E-Books. That experience is best fostered by a well managed physical store, one with a clear curatorial vision.  

I'm not sure why Powell's isn't like that. Maybe it's too difficult to translate strong curating into a large volume setting? For whatever reason, the Powell's shelves feel less like a collection than the random assortment typical of a municipal library. Who knows what's in there? Maybe some of it's good, maybe it isn't. But there doesn't seem anyone in charge. That's not entirely a bad thing. Assorted used books sometimes offer treasures. But I think the situation would be more bearable if those musty stacks were balanced with contemporary energy. These are the glory days of photo books! Why are those books not found at Powell's? 

This doesn't mean I can't still find stuff there. I can, and sometimes by surprise. But I think it's very tough to run a successful photo section by that strategy. Why would someone shop there? Why not browse Amazon in your pajamas? Or better yet, why not visit Ampersand?