A Compositional Investigation

Flatting continues! Chapter Five should be ready to colour by the end of this week. There still isn’t much to look at (such is the nature of the flatting step), but I had a strange encounter with an image in the wild this week, and I did want to share that.

In the last post, there was some chatter about image composition. The next day, I was in our local cafe with our preschooler. He was slurping at a hot chocolate while I sat across from this photo, printed big and hung on the wall.

Two things happened: first, I found it very pleasing to look at. I had a hard time not drifting away with it. Second, I chided myself for being a sucker, so drawn in to coffee-shop photography. I was a rube, a simpleton, an unsophisticated purveyor of the arts. If it was hanging on the wall of a coffee shop, it must have been carefully designed and chosen to be as inoffensive as possible. The word “anodyne” came to mind. I looked up the definition — “not likely to cause offence or disagreement” — sure, but also, “…and somewhat dull.” Well, that's mean.

Regardless, I think it’s a photo that works.

Surely all these things can be true (though I refute "dull"). We can acknowledge that it’s probably not going to set anyone’s heart on fire, while also being a very successful photograph. I have to admit: I find this specific photo fascinating. Let’s see what’s going on.

You’ve seen my photo of the photo above. I haven’t edited this except to square the angles. I’m going to write this post as I go; as I type this, I have not yet drawn any overlays or poked at the proportions of the photo at all. If there are any discoveries to be made, you’ll be following along as I make them. It’s by this local photographer — I don’t want to mention his name because I don’t want this post coming up in a search, but it would be stupid for me not to credit him appropriately. (This post is coming in hot and fast; I’m doing my level best in all respects, but I also want to get back to flatting this afternoon so I might not be as kind in my writing as I want to be.)

First, I should say what I see. I see a photo of some sort of fishing shed on a floating dock. I know this shed — it’s nearby. I grew up in this community, and this sort of imagery of “life on the water” has been with me forever. So there is an element to this where it might feel “homey” to me, comfortable. It’s winter — there aren’t any leaves on the trees — and I recognize that specific angle of the light from Vancouver winters. You might, too, if you watched a lot of X-Files. I see the mountains, too; they’ve also been the backdrop to most of my life. They make me happy. So for me, this image has an element of a hometown acquaintance showing up at the bar. We may not know each other intimately, but we both see Steve the barber.

Colour-wise, we have a lot of muted browns and greys, occasionally vivid blues, and a sharp hit of red right in the middle. It looks like the colours have been manipulated into a harmonious scheme, but not to a distracting degree. It still feels natural, and where the trees meet the shoreline in the background, the colour manipulation maybe shows its hand more than would be ideal, but it reinforces the depth so it’s hard to be mad. Texturally, we have the rhythm of the gentle ripples on the water, the roughness of the aged shed, and the natural noise of the tree branches.

That’s what I see. Now let’s pick at it. My first thought is to overlay the usual compositional grids.

First, the rule of thirds, vertically:

With the vertical thirds up, I don’t see anything to suggest that they’re guiding the composition. Same with horizontal thirds. There’s a loose relationship between the back edge of the wharf, the coolers, and the bottom third, but that could be coincidental.

I do notice the horizon line is located in the middle of the image, though. That’s unusual. Most teachings warn against that, that it makes for a boring image. But considering the straight-on view of the shed, the very “just so,” straightforward presentation of all the image elements, it might become a smart choice. Perhaps it reinforces the "straight talk" of the image.

Considering the middle-height horizon line and the centrally-placed red cooler, let’s divide the image into quarters.

Thaaaaat’s interesting. Here it is, quartered further:

We get a lot more things lining up.

Okay, time to become a meme and try out the Golden Ratio overlays. The ones I’m using are borrowed from here: http://parksphotos.com/goldenoverlays/ — first, the “golden spiral.”

Here’s a slightly different overlay, which I’ll include in series because the conclusions are basically the same.

The way the floatie circle thing (a technical term, to prove I grew up in a fishing town) is bisected by that one guide line, and the way the cooler, dock, and elements of the shed all align with other elements of the guide, it makes me think the photographer used one of these golden-rule guides to compose this image. That, and the fact that I didn’t have to adjust the proportions of the guides at all when I dropped them in.

TANGENT! Do you remember how photographers used to print their photos with part of the film negative visible in the margins? My understanding is that they did that originally to say, "look, I composed this image in the camera, when I took the photo." As opposed to, say, refining the cropping and composition in the darkroom later. The inclusion of the negative in the print is meant to be a flex, to say, "my photographic eye is that good."

That’s all interesting enough. Here are some other things that caught my eye.

First, the line of the shadow and the line of the roof are almost parallel. To the naked eye, I thought they were. That’s nice, capturing the shadow at almost the perfect angle.

The flatness. There is only one part of the image that conveys any perspective, and that’s this little bit of the dock here (below). As I mentioned before, it gives it a “just so” sort of presentation, like someone holding out an object in their hands, asking you to see it and accept it as it is. That’s what the photo ostensibly has to say about this shed: here it is, this is what it looks like, it exists and these are its visual qualities. There is nothing sneaky about this image. It is trying to be as objective as it is possible to be (again, presumably; anyone can argue about this sort of thing).

Whammo, look at those floatie circle things (that’s what all the fishermen call them). Because of the flat presentation, they are as close to perfect circles as one might reasonably expect. If you wanted to be swishy about it, you could say the pairing conjures up feelings of eyes, or of being stared at. It’s a quaint pastoral version of that National Geographic cover with the Afghani woman and the direct gaze of her colourful eyes.

Or you could go in the other direction and comment on how they reinforce the geometric quality of the image. You might argue that the whole image is almost abstract in its geometric construction, again because of how little of the illusion of perspective is incorporated.

And of course, there’s the contrasting red cooler, the only red thing in the image, small and placed right on the centre line, in a position of very strong light-dark contrast.

Speaking of contrast, those grids and guides aren’t the only principles we can throw at this image. “Contrast” reminds me that I can whip out Christopher Alexander’s Elements of Style — as reprinted in a 2004 issue of Wired magazine — and see how those principles work here. Let’s do that. Here’s the page from Wired. I love this page, I think it’s one of the most useful things I’ve ever encountered. I always keep it (or a copy) near my desk.

LEVELS OF SCALE. (Above.) This one is a bit ambiguous, but I see it in the way we can consider the shed as a whole, then different sub-elements of the shed down to the beige styrofoam box. There’s also those repeating wooden things at the waterline.

STRONG CENTERS. And this one’s a no-brainer. The red cooler, which is both placed centrally and has strong light-dark and colour contrast is a strong centre. The floatie circle things (look for them at the fishing supply store under that name) do some work to reinforce this centre.

BOUNDARIES. (Above) It’s easy to see how multiple elements do the work of framing our compositional focus.

ALTERNATING REPETITION. Again, the wood things at the waterline provide repetition. If pushed, I could argue the trees in the background make a nice repeated vertical element.

POSITIVE SPACE. The background is definitely not distracting from the centre, mostly due to the camera blur and the effect it has on the texture of the trees. I’ve also mentioned the potentially-simplified colour palette — that could be doing some work to subdue the background.

GOOD SHAPE. The shed with its blue trim is a simple form, emphasizing the “intense powerful centre” of the coolers.

LOCAL SYMMETRIES. On a large scale, nothing about the composition is symmetrical. But again, we have the repeated wood elements, and the twinned shed doors. We also have the matching floatie circle things (that’s what you shout for as you’re struggling in the water) which are symmetrical in shape, but not aligned symmetrically in the composition.

DEEP INTERLOCK AND AMBIGUITY. I have a hard time interpreting this one, but I might suggest that the shadow across the shed’s surface is providing a lot of this quality. The great big slash of shade provides compositional movement and interest that would not have been there otherwise.

CONTRAST. We’ve touched on this in a few places already — the light-dark contrast at the compositional centre, as well as the colour contrast. But there’s also the textural contrast between the water, the shed surface, and the background trees. And the contrast between the large shapes and the small. Contrast is easy to find.

GRADIENTS. (Above.) This one is harder for me to find, but perhaps we see it in the gentle gradation of the sizes of the wood things at the waterline, and in some of the tree business in the background.

ROUGHNESS. One of the highlights of this image is revelling in all the different textures on display.

ECHOES. I think we see this in the elements mentioned under “gradients,” but also the repeating boat masts in the background, and obviously the paired floatie circle things (if a mariner looks at you funny when you use this term, they’re playing a joke on you).

THE VOID. This quality might be offered by the broad, plain surface of the shed. I’m tempted to say “we see it in the water, too,” but the ripple texture suggests that maybe we would consider that as more active, less of a “void.” I like the plainness of the flat rectangle of shed wall at the compositional centre, too, and the way it “activates” the focal elements.

SIMPLICITY AND INNER CALM. “Use only essentials; avoid extraneous elements.” I would argue this is achieved; that all elements add to the effect of the image. But since the image is essentially, “look at these things,” what new element, if included, would distract from the image’s essence? I guess if there were a paddler in a bright orange kayak floating in the water to the right, out of focus, waving to the camera, that would ruin the effect.

NOT-SEPARATENESS. Every "rule" we’ve addressed above contributes to this one, and within the image, they all seem to be working together toward one purpose. Outside the image, we might talk about “does this image belong where it’s been displayed?” Well, it’s a coffee shop in a fishing town. It feels local and it’s unlikely to make anyone spit out their coffee in disgust, so it doesn’t feel out of place. It’s matched with some other photos by the same photographer, and while their subject matter isn’t so local, the presentation is similarly flat and straightforward, so this photo doesn’t feel separate.

Writing this all out, I was surprised how easy it was to apply some of the rules to the image, while, with others, I was bending over backwards more than I would have liked. To which I can only say: Welcome to Art!

I think I’m drawn to this image because of the flat, just-so presentation. I’ve always liked that sort of composition. It also hits a nostalgic note for me, or a note of recognition, and people always like to be able to say “hey I know that place,” or, “hey, I see myself in that piece of art.” The flat-on presentation works well with the even, straightforward placement of the focal point, which I think gives the whole thing a slightly confrontational feel, which I guess I find engaging. I think I like the coincidence of the line of the shadow and the line of the roof, too; it creates an appealing visual buzz. I suspect the way it all lines up with the golden ratio reinforces the image’s successes, but I won’t give them credit for the whole thing. If I didn’t like oyster smoothies, combining all the different types of oysters in just the right ratio wouldn’t make me love oyster smoothies.

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Now, how do I apply these rules and principles to my own work?

Infrequently and, hopefully, subconsciously!

I do not run checks of my own work against these rules or principles. I apply them when I make a thumbnail that has promise, but isn't quite right. Or when I get to some other stage and think, "this is almost there." Even then, most of the time I just wing it and trust that I've internalized enough of these principles to steer me right. You're welcome to subject my drawings to this level of scrutiny, but my suspicion is that you will end up at "well, sometimes it lines up with the principles, sometimes it doesn't." That's my promise to you.

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I need to go pick up kiddo from preschool, then carefully navigate his pleas to go to the cafe for a hot chocolate, because I have flatting to do.

Everyone continue being perfectly lovely, please.

Until next time,
I remain,
a no-brainer,

TC