How to Self-Publish a Photo Book: Lessons from Belle-Île-en-Mer Workshop

The Second Birth of the Image: A Book-Making Odyssey from Cappadocia to Belle-Île em Mer Brittany in France

For a photographer, pressing the shutter is only half the act. The moment that image transforms into a memory, an object, a tangible “story,” is where the real magic begins. Today, I want to share the story behind my “Cappadocia” book from years ago, woven together with the technical and emotional notes on “autoedition” (self-publishing) that I refreshed during a recent workshop in Belle-Île-en-Mer.
This post is not just a memoir; it is a roadmap for my friends who dream of creating their own photography book.
The Winds of Belle-Île and the Book as a “Reading Machine”
Last February, I found myself in Belle-Île-en-Mer. It is an island that changes its face several times a day—sometimes battered by rain, sometimes bathed in brilliant sunshine—testing one’s nerves just as much as one’s images. There were seven of us, hailing from Finland, Switzerland, Poland, France, and Turkey. We all shared a common desire: to transform our photos from mere portfolio files into an object that stands on its own—a form that is thought-out, constructed, and inhabited.
Here, under the guidance of the internationally renowned photographer Claudine Doury and the master book designer Caroline Lusseaux, I was reminded of a crucial truth: Making a book is not just “printing”; it is a craft in itself.
It is often assumed that a good photo book depends solely on good photos. This is true, but insufficient. As Caroline emphasized at the workshop, a book is actually a “rhythm machine” (machine à rythme). It is the rhythm of the pages, the rhythm of the white spaces (the “rests”), the rhythm of visual echoes, and most importantly, the rhythm of the hand turning the pages.
The Spark of Inspiration: From Cambodia to Cappadocia
Returning to the journey of my own “Cappadocia” book; the project actually began far away, among the Angkor temples of Cambodia. I was captivated when I saw “Elegy,” a book by John McDermott, who had left his life in England to dedicate 14 years to that land. At that moment, the fate of my Cappadocia archive, which I had been accumulating for 10 years, changed. I told myself, “I must do a great work like this. I must carry the mystery of Cappadocia to the world”.
I had made amateur attempts before, such as “Ripple Marks” and “Doğa” (Nature), but this time had to be different. It had to be a true art book.
The 4 Pillars of a Good Book and the “Team” Spirit
Whether in the training at Belle-Île or during my Cappadocia process, the greatest truth I have observed is this: You cannot do this alone. For the Cappadocia book, I brought together four “indispensable” factors:
1. The Curator: A ruthless and professional eye for selection. Famous photographer Fethi İzan undertook this task for my book.
2. The Designer: The visual identity of the book. The esteemed Mehmet Ali Türkmen even designed a special logo for the project.
3. The Printer: Perhaps the most critical stage. Without the gentle touch of A4 Ofset and my dear friend Alparslan Baloğlu, who specializes in photo book printing, we could not have achieved that quality.
4. The Writer/Critic: Text that breathes soul into the book. Orhan Alptürk, whom we sadly lost in 2022, added intellectual depth with his introduction.
This team worked in an atmosphere of perfect cooperation and brotherhood. When doing your own book (autoedition), you must either wear these four hats yourself or find the right partners. Remember, your printer is not a service provider, but a partner who saves you from mistakes.
Constructing the Visual Story: “Every Choice is a Renunciation”
For the Cappadocia project, I had 24,000 frames accumulated over 15 years—ranging from analog to digital, black and white to color. How does a “story” emerge from such chaos?
This is where the lesson of “Editing” from Belle-Île comes into play. Selecting is hard, but ordering them is harder. Two images side-by-side must create an invisible third image—a tension, a question.
In Cappadocia, we made a decision: We eliminated the people, the tourists, and the dining venues. We told a nature story starting from the majesty of Mount Erciyes and descending into the texture of the tuff. We selected only 119 photos out of 24,000. Because every choice is indeed a renunciation. A book is not an archive; it is a proposition.
Technical Integrity: The Memory of Paper and the Art of Printing
One of the topics we discussed emphatically at Belle-Île was paper selection. Paper is not a neutral surface; it is the “skin of the image”. It determines contrast, the depth of blacks, and even the speed of reading.
In my Cappadocia book, we had to unite photos taken with different techniques (film, slide, digital) under a common language. For this, we used a tritone printing technique, likely a first in Turkey. By printing with tones of “Burnt Sienna” (terre de sienne brûlée) on paper imported from Italy, we achieved that mystic unity.
For those attempting autoedition, here is some golden technical advice:
• InDesign is a Discipline: Bleeds (fond perdu), margins, and templates do not accept errors. Strictly follow your printer’s specs (usually 3mm or 5mm bleeds).
• The Double-Page Rule: A book is read in “spreads” (openings), not single photos. Do not place two “dominant” photos facing each other where they cannibalize one another. Sometimes a white space, a “rest,” allows the viewer to breathe.
• Prototype It: The image on the screen is deceptive. You must make a physical dummy. You can only understand where the story drags or flows when you turn the pages with your own hand.
A Practical Checklist for Autoedition
Distilled from my Belle-Île notes, here is a short guide that should be on your desk while making your book:
1. Define the Promise: Before starting, write a single sentence: “This book is about …, showing …, to make one feel …” If you can’t write this, the reader won’t understand it either.
2. The Rhythm Test: Does the book “hold up” during a 3-minute fast flip? Does it bore you during a 30-minute slow read?.
3. Text Usage: Do not use text as an “explanation” or an “apology” for the photos. Text is there to orient the reading.
4. Binding (Reliure): Even the most beautiful design is wasted if the book doesn’t open properly. Binding is the architecture of the book.
Final Word: Does a Project End?
The answer to the frequently asked question, “Does a project ever end?” is clear to me: Yes, it must. A work that never ends is not a project. The Cappadocia book is finished; the Turkish and English editions sold out and became rare items. Now, it lives its own life.
When photography transforms into a book, it accepts being “transformed.” This is not a betrayal, but the image’s second birth. If you have a long-term, fragile project that is valuable to you, do not be afraid to embody it in book form. Assemble the perfect team (or acquire those skills), feel the smell of the paper, finish your project, and set sail for new horizons.
Life is a collection of successive projects.
Stay with love.
Ps: Some technical aspects;
Here is the explanation of the depth and texture that the tritone printing technique added to your Cappadocia book, based on the details in your account:
1. Creating a Common Visual Language The most critical function of the tritone technique in your project was unification. You had an archive spanning 15 years, comprising various formats: negative film, slides, and digital images, ranging from black and white to color. Without a unifying technique, placing these side-by-side would have resulted in a disjointed visual experience. By digitizing the analog negatives and printing everything via tritone, all photographs—regardless of their original medium—acquired a “common photographic language”.
2. Atmospheric Depth with “Burnt Sienna” Rather than standard black and white, you utilized a specific color palette: “Terre de Sienne Brûlée” (Burnt Sienna).
• The technique involved selecting specific colors from the upper dark and lower light layers of this Burnt Sienna tone.
• This choice likely gave the images a warmth and texture that mirrors the geological reality of Cappadocia (the tuff and soil), creating an atmosphere that standard monochrome could not achieve.
3. A Technical First You noted that this application—using selected layers of Burnt Sienna in tritone—was likely a first in Turkey. When combined with the high-quality paper imported from Italy, the technique transformed the images from mere reproductions into an artistic narrative with a distinct, tactile feeling.
This technique allowed you to bypass the chaos of mixed media and present a coherent, artistic “proposition” rather than just an archive of images.
Here is how you should use white spaces to create rhythm in a photo book:
1. Creating “Breathing” Stops (Respiration) A book is like a piece of music; it needs “rests” (silence) as much as it needs notes. White spaces are the breathing areas of the book,. They prevent the reader from becoming mentally exhausted when moving from one image to another and “relaunch” their attention, preparing them for the next visual,.
2. Preventing Visual “Cannibalism” One of the most critical points Caroline Lusseaux emphasized in the workshop was this: Avoid placing two “strong” photos facing each other. If two dominant images are side-by-side, they can “cannibalize” one another,. In such cases, leaving one page blank or using text to calm the spread allows the strong image to achieve the impact it deserves,.
3. Providing Relief: “No Relief Without Hollows” maintaining the same intensity throughout the entire book blinds the reader. Acting on the principle that “without hollows, there is no relief,” you must use calm and empty pages to accentuate the visual power and height of the other pages,.
4. Planning During the Draft Stage White spaces should not be added at the end of the design process just because “there was space left over”; they must be constructed as part of the rhythm while still in the “brouillon” (rough draft/dummy) stage,.
5. Making It Feel Intentional In the file sent to the printer, white spaces must not look like forgetfulness or an error. These spaces must be a conscious (intentional) part of the project’s architecture,.
In summary, white space is not the “absence” of a photo, but an active building block that manages the rhythm of the reader’s hand and eye.
Based on the sources provided, the choice of paper acts as the “skin of the image,” fundamentally altering how a photograph is perceived and felt by the viewer. It is not merely a neutral surface for ink; it is an active participant in the emotional narrative of the book,.
Here is how paper choice influences the conveyance of emotion:
1. Determining the Atmosphere and Depth The paper’s physical characteristics directly dictate the visual “mood” of the photograph. It controls contrast, the depth of blacks, and color rendering,.
For example, Olin Regular offers a matte finish and a “subtle touch,” which can create a softer, more intimate emotional connection,.
Munken is noted for its natural whiteness and tactile quality, often selected for design-focused editions,.
Condat Périgord (coated) renders colors more “densely,” which might be suitable for images requiring high impact and vibrancy,.
2. Controlling the “Rhythm of the Hand” (Tempo) Emotion is also a matter of time. The texture of the paper influences the physical speed at which a reader turns the pages. A highly textured paper slows down the hand, forcing the viewer to linger on the image and engaging in a more contemplative or “slow” reading experience,. Conversely, smoother papers might accelerate the pace.
3. Creating a Unified Visual Language In your Cappadocia book, the choice of paper was essential to creating a cohesive emotional experience from a chaotic archive. By using paper imported from Italy combined with a specific tritone printing technique (Burnt Sienna), you successfully united different formats (film, slide, digital) under a “common photographic language”. This prevented the book from feeling like a disjointed archive and instead presented a consistent, atmospheric world that mirrored the geological texture of the region.
4. Dialoguing with the Book’s Intention The paper must align with the “promise” of the book. A mismatch creates emotional dissonance.
You must ask: Is this a precious object, a raw manifesto, or a notebook?,.
The paper must “dialogue” with the image type (e.g., soft color vs. strong contrast) to convey the intended feeling correctly,.
Crucial Warning: The sources emphasize that you can never choose paper via a screen. Because it has a “memory” and physical presence, it must be tested with physical sample kits to ensure the emotional translation is accurate,,.
Mehmet Ömür