Figure 1-8. Grass and Juniper Wood
Chapter 2. What is Composition?
BEFORE MOVING ON, it would be worthwhile to study your photographs slowly while considering the questions posed in the first chapter, in order to better evaluate your own work. I feel that such an evaluation is extremely valuable and should be done periodically. Assuming that you have already done so, questions arise as to the most effective methods of conveying your thoughts photographically. The most effective technique, it turns out, varies from scene to scene and from artist to artist. No overall rule can be made. Indeed, art is devoid of rules.
One statement can be made concerning any artistic effort: it must possess good composition. Whether the subject is a fine portrait, a panoramic landscape, a slum alley, a studio tabletop arrangement, or anything else, only with good composition will it achieve meaning and importance. (In fact, this can be extended to all other art forms, including visual and nonvisual forms. After all, even music requires good composition!)
But, you may ask, what is good composition? What, in fact, is composition? The term is constantly used, seldom defined or discussed, rarely understood, yet never questioned. Try to define composition, and you will see how difficult it is.
My dictionary defines it as “an arrangement of the parts of a work of art so as to form a unified, harmonious whole”. This is an excellent beginning. “A unified, harmonious whole.” That is the key phrase. If photography is your means of self-expression, then composition must be the vehicle with which you express yourself clearly, concisely, and smoothly. Composition is the means of bringing viewers into your photograph and holding their attention long enough to read your commentary and define their own feelings.
Trailside leaves produce a rhythmic mix of metallic forms, interspersed with deep black holes (the spaces between the leaves) that have interesting shapes themselves, serving as negative space to the positive space of the leaves. There is no center of interest. Rather, there is a pattern, keeping the eye moving within the image.
Figure 2-1. Leaves, Big 4 Mountain Trail, Washington
The immense oak tree is clearly the center of interest. Background trees form a rhythmic counterpoint.
Figure 2-2. Oak Tree, Sapelo Island
We will delve into the dictionary definition more deeply, but first we need a short physiological description of the human visual process in order to apply the definition to photography.
How the Human Eye Sees
The eye does not see whole vistas at once. It views the world in small chunks, then puts the pieces together to form the complete picture. The angle of sharp vision is extremely small, only about three radial degrees. To see for yourself what this means, try the following: Hold your arm straight out with your hand bent upward and your fingers spread (as if your palm were held against a wall in front of you). You are looking at the back of your hand at arm’s length. Now, look at your thumbnail. As you do so, you will see that your little finger is out of focus! You will have to move your eyes in order to see your little finger sharply. Yet it is not very far from your thumb, even with your fingers spread. In fact, all of your other fingers are out of focus as well, indicating the limits of sharp vision.
With the eye able to see only small bits sharply at any moment, it must move about speedily to view the entire scene. It does not do so in an organized fashion like a TV scanner. Instead, it darts about randomly, up and down, side to side, picking out bits and pieces here and there, and sending these tidbits back to the brain at a furious pace. The brain processes this random data and puts it all together, like a mosaic or a jigsaw puzzle. While studying the scene the eye stops momentarily at prominent objects and sees them with real clarity, filling in the rest in a rather fuzzy manner. Thus, the eye does not perceive the whole scene with uniform sharpness or interest.
The subject here is fog. The distant treetop barely seen in the lower left corner of the image becomes the surprise of the image. Without it, the tree trunks in fog would still have an appealing rhythm, but the surprise makes the image more interesting.
Figure 2-3. Trees in Fog, Cambria
We all see this way. Researchers have proven it and confirmed it more than once. It is a physiological fact. You can’t fight it!
With this in mind, let’s return to the discussion of composition and define it as follows: Good composition is the artist’s way of directing the viewer’s vision in a planned, de-randomized fashion.
When a photograph is well composed, viewers first see the elements that the artist wants them to see most prominently and remember longest. Next, they notice the elements of secondary importance, and finally the elements of subordinate interest. With good composition, the artist leads viewers through the photograph in a controlled manner. There is nothing haphazard about seeing a photograph. Composition is the artist’s way of bringing order into a non-ordered world. In essence, this is what the dictionary definition calls for.
Note
With good composition the artist leads the viewer through the photograph in a controlled manner.
This definition helps explain why a magnificent scene often fails to translate into a fine photograph. The scene may be quite complex. The eye accepts this, darting about and selecting the most important bits of information, then filling in the rest. But a photograph or any other work of visual art must organize that information. If it fails to do so, the viewer’s eye roams about aimlessly, unable to find the artist’s statement because there is none. The scene has not been composed, but merely selected. The photograph is not a work of art, but merely a recording of the scene with one critical defect: it lacks the presence of the real scene.
There is a very real difference between “seeing” and “photographic seeing”. An individual may recognize and appreciate an interesting scene, but may not be able to organize it into an effective photograph. Only those individuals who can create a worthwhile image out of a scene can be said to “see photographically”. Understanding composition and applying it separates the artists from the snapshooters.
There are two aspects of good composition that are of prime importance. The concept of a unified thought is one; simplicity is the other. The two are strongly interrelated.
Unified Thought
The term “unified thought” comes from the dictionary definition of composition referred to earlier as “a unified, harmonious whole”. It means that all the elements of the photograph work together, i.e., a central concept underlies the photograph. This concept often translates to the somewhat narrower concept of a center of interest. Let me differentiate between a center of interest and a unified thought through the use of two examples (Figure 2-2 and Figure 2-3).
The first photograph shows a spreading tree at the edge of an open field (Figure 2-2). An effective photograph of this old giant could have been made by isolating it against the sky rather than by placing it against a background of similar trees. Even against a background of similar trees, it is so dominant as to clearly draw your attention, with the background trees obviously subordinate. Such isolation or obvious dominance focuses the viewer’s attention on the tree. It is clear that the tree is the subject under consideration and the thing to be studied. It is the center of interest.