FWIW, my wife and I have structured our own print sales to match what I was taught in my college marketing course years ago. It is nothing new and works for most any product.
That is, have a mix of products at different price levels to appeal to different sized pocket-books. Not everyone can afford a Cadillac. That's why Honda made millions selling their economically priced vehicles. That doesn't mean that the buyers don't aspire to own a Cadillac. They just might not be able to afford it at the moment. So, should we disapprove of Honda's strategy? I don't think so. It doesn't diminish the value of the Cadillac unless the quality of their product is similar. And if the quality of the product is the same, should we be critical of Honda for achieving a lower selling price? Perhaps here we get at the root of the issue. How is that they can afford the lower production cost. Labor? Materials? Both? Do we then fall back to a nationalistic stance and defend our own process? IMO, it is best to recognize the value of each approach and let the buyer decide what has the most appeal to them. In the end, it seems that the decision boils down to taste, and it seems to me someone said, "There's no accounting for taste."
We sell 5x7 prints that we have branded JewelPrints(TM) (originally Ilfochrome, then Lightjet, and most recently Inkjet prints) single matted in 11x14 mats for $29.50 retail. Those prints are intended to be the "quick nickel" in our revenue stream. High volume, low cost. But, we have always provided a high quality product at that price. From the image, to the materials, to the presentation, it has always been classy. Through the change in process, the one constant has been the image itself. At that price point, process doesn't seem to be as big an issue with the buyer, but it makes a significant difference in the dollars transferred to our own bottom line.
But, we have had to make some tradeoffs in which images are selected for the product line. One needs to know what the market wants to take home with them. And while I would love to sell the images that mean the most to me personally, that isn't always what the public would choose.
So what about the more personal images? Those go to the smaller segment of the public who are looking for something on a different level. Something beyond what is considered a souvenir (from the French "souvienne," to remember). Perhaps a collection of images that represent a more introspective, revelatory peek at the artist's psyche.
Two different markets. Two different purposes. Sometimes as artists we can get lucky and the two markets converge to where the images not only are representative of a place or a moment, but are representative of our emotional state of being.
Mind you, my motivation is to make beautiful images and share them with the world. Not being a trust fund child, I have to obtain a return on my investment in time and energy to facilitate my passion for creating images. As one who obtained an economics degree, it would be foolish to ignore the lessons of supply and demand, unit cost, etc. Unless one is making a donation for the greater good, who pays for the cost of materials, the time spent hiking to a location to make the image, the time spent to make the print and to draft the promotional materials? Theoretically, we all get compensated for our "jobs" at some hourly rate. Do we compensate ourselves similarly for the time that goes into preparing prints for sale?
With traditional processes, it is much more difficult to remove the component that is typically the most expensive from the equation. Labor cost. But, what if one can reduce the cost of labor? Does it diminish the value of the image if either the artist no longer prints their own work, or if the process is automated somehow?
For a known photographer like Ansel, the best analogy seems to be "all boats float in a high tide" because his SEPs still command a goodly price even though they are printed by Alan Ross. Is the current price of those images related to process? To some degree for sure. Galen Rowell is another whose work held its value regardless of process (he didn't print his work ever to my knowledge, but supervised the printing). That would seem to point to other artists of high stature obtaining similar results. But a shrewder approach seems to be that of artists that use the reproduction process as a component of their marketing mix by selling non-archival prints for less than their archival equivalents, or traditional process at a higher price than non-traditional.
Regardless, Brooks' "story" analogy works in every instance and I believe that the concept is part of our own success. We are fortunate to have very reputable people selling our work who care about us as people and share an enthusiasm for our work. We help them to sell our work by giving them the tools to do a better job. The story helps them and the general public to understand why our work is important. On the reverse of each print, we share the how and why of the creation of each image, from what is special about the moment the image was made to how the print was prepared, so that the public is confident in their purchase and our committment to a quality product for a fair price.
Ansel Adams' approach was no different. His SEP's were created to put his work in the hands of those people who couldn't afford the larger prints. Interestingly, the less expensive work will help sell the more expensive work. By having more work on display than there is wall space. By having the work in more households where other potential buyers will see it. Likewise, the more expensive work helps sell the less expensive work by increasing its percieved value. "There was this huge print for $X,000 there of this same image, but all I could afford was this little one."
The next size up in our portfolio (8x10), there is a significant jump in price to $150. Again the processes that were used to create the prints evolved over the years, and our prices reflect a variety of factors. More time put into preparing the print (full gallery presentation, most of early work was printed for us by professional labs and therefore boosted the labor and materials cost, uniqueness of the images, the price of comparable work by our contemporaries, and a more challenging issue: collectors). The collector issue presents a whole different wrinkle to the equation, for essentially, once and artist has established a selling price for an image, it is frowned upon to decrease the price at a late date lest they simultaneously devalue all previous work sold to a public, who oftentimes are making a purchase as an investment, or at least with the notion that the print will increase in value over time, especially upon the death of the artist.
However, a collector I once met shared this insight about collecting photography. They said, "I don't buy an image as an investment. I buy it because it moves me." Their collection was the finest I have ever seen anywhere, in or out of museums, for it was not only an awesome assembly of imagery, but it clearly depicted the nature of the collector. While I was moved by the images individually, I was really moved by the vision of the individual who brought them together. To me, the value of the whole collection was far greater than the sum of the parts. So, it might be a real steal someday to have one each of Brooks' $20 prints, especially if you are the only one who does.