Thursday Tips: The Aesthetic Triad

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aesthetics, art, composition, light, Photography, subject, Tips

With my guest blogging installments here on 1001 Scribbles over the past couple of years, I’ve probably spent at least as much time and space covering technically related matters as aesthetic ones, which is completely out of proportion with how I like to think about photography. The technical points (e.g. exposure, depth of field, etc.) are necessary, but photography—at least the way I think of it and try to practice it—is an artistic endeavor. Technique is important, but it’s a means to an end. Creativity is the itch most of us are trying to scratch, presumably, when we pull out our cameras.

So let’s talk about aesthetics a bit, and let’s do so in a way that’s as practical and applicable as possible. (I could discuss the matter in ethereal terms, but that’s an approach that many—if not most—people find impenetrable.)

Nearly half of the time during my trip to the Canadian Rockies earlier this fall was spent on a photo tour. While this was a tour—with a particular emphasis on time in the field—and not a workshop, we did hold a few brief nighttime classroom sessions that were designed, more or less, as reminders of broad photographic principles. I was quite pleased to see the discussion about image making center around three broad concepts that I’ve long preached as the key elements of successful photographs: subject, light and composition.

Essentially, assuming good technique, when these three things come together in a single frame, a portfolio quality photograph ensues. It’s not that you can’t have a “successful” shot without all three, but for something really and truly special, you need to check off all the items on the list.

Subject, of course, is the tangible object or objects that make up the elements present in the photograph. What constitutes “interesting” subject matter can be quite subjective, of course.

Light is self-explanatory. What isn’t quite as obvious, however, is that what constitutes good light can vary depending on the subject. For instance, as I’ve said multiple times in this space in the past, the quality of light that is particularly flattering to a grand landscape scenic isn’t necessarily the light of choice for a waterfall or a forest composition.

Composition is the most subjective element of all and the one upon which the photographer can exercise the broadest control. The term refers to what is included in the frame and the perspective by which the subject is depicted. This is entirely up to the photographer.

Let’s look at an example, one in which I think the three broad concepts outlined above come together pretty well.

The subject here is pretty straight forward: we have a lake, lined by deciduous and coniferous trees on the left. It’s pretty clearly an autumn image, given the color of the foliage. We have a nice sunrise sky, reflected in the lake, and a backdrop of mountain peaks. There may be a few curmudgeons out there who would disagree, but I think it’s fair to say that most people would probably find this subject matter appealing.

The light is of the pre-sunrise variety. The sky is lit up beautifully while everything else is softly (and evenly) lit. Harsh contrast is avoided.

The composition was carefully determined. There’s a rocky meadow, filled with tall grasses, surrounding the side of the lake from which the image was made, and it was consciously decided to include the meadow and its components as foreground elements. The yellow aspens provide a clear sense of the season and complement the lake, rocks and mountains nicely. The mountains, as background objects, are perhaps the ultimate example of stopping the eye from wandering off into oblivion. The colorful sunrise sky (and its reflection in the lake) provides something of a “wow” element to an already compelling scene.

It’s a matter of opinion—it is art, after all—but I think all three of the aforementioned concepts come together quite nicely here.

Let’s take a look at one more image.

The subject matter is, at least superficially similar to the first image—though we have a foreground stream rather than a lake.

The light here is very different than in the first image, but the method of presentation is as well; this shot is depicted in black and white. The light here is far more contrasty than in the first photograph, but that’s far more suitable given the much more contrast-tolerant black and white medium.

The composition is fairly dynamic—as revealed by the rushing outlet stream—which complements the boldness of the high contrast black and white treatment, particularly as it’s rendered in the sky.

Again, I think the three principles come together quite well in this shot. It’s a very different combination than in the original image, but both photographs share a certain amount of success. This illustrates the point that there are different ways to fit the three concepts together; there’s no single recipe to success. (If there was, there would only be one kind of pleasing image, which is absurd.) The goal is to find different ways to make different subjects, qualities of light and compositions work together symbiotically. That’s the road map to successful image making.

Give it a try. Consciously question yourself—what light flatters this subject? How can I choose to frame this subject in this light to best express it? What subjects work best in this light? By asking—and answering—these questions and others like them, you can take your photography to the next level.

Thursday Tips is written by Kerry Mark Leibowitz, a guest blogger on 1001 Scribbles, and appears every other Thursday. To read more of his thoughts on photography, please visit his blog: Lightscapes Nature Photography.

Thursday Tips: Simplify

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center of interest, composition, Photography, simplify, Tips

One of the most frustrating aspects of trying to explain and learn about composition in art generally and photography specifically is that, when it’s all said and done, it’s a subjective matter. Compositional principles can be discussed, but ultimately whether something “works” is in the eye of the beholder. There’s no right or wrong. I can tell you whether I think an image succeeds or fails; I can even tell you why. But in both instances, I’m giving you my opinion. I can’t tell you that someone who disagrees with me is wrong; it’s just a difference of opinion. There are—again, in my opinion—no objective absolutes in art.

And with that said, here’s a compositional point that I think is apt the vast majority of the time: images need a center of interest to succeed. Now, what that center of interest is can vary dramatically. It can be a tangible object; it can be a pattern; it can be an emotional ambiance. But—again, the vast majority of the time—it has to be something and if what that “something” is isn’t immediately apparent to the viewer, he/she is likely to move on very quickly, without giving the image in question a second thought.

In my experience, the single most frequent reason for the failure of an image on “center of interest” grounds is excess complexity. In other words, there are too many elements in the frame to make identifying a center of interest anything but difficult or impossible. In such cases, the best course of action is usually to simplify the shot—reduce the number of competing elements thereby making it easier to identify the center of interest.

Simplifying an image can be done in a number of ways. One is to simply tighten the shot—make it more “intimate” by narrowing the frame of view which can be done by increasing focal length and/or moving closer to the subject.

Another approach is to simply change your position, thereby changing the proximity of elements in the frame to one another. Moving might, for instance, hide something that you want to exclude behind a tree trunk; or movement on your part might render a flower close-up in a more pleasing, less distracting way.

A third possibility is to use atmospheric or environmental elements to your advantage in emphasizing a center of interest. While these are obviously less robust than the approaches mentioned above which are mostly, if not entirely, under your control, they can still be a big, big help. The use of fog or mist to obscure or entirely eliminate distracting backgrounds, or to help render mood (which itself can be a center of interest) is something you can utilize to your benefit. A fresh coating of winter snow can do wonders as well, by covering all sorts of potential distractions on the ground.

I hasten to point out that it is possible to take the idea of simplification too far. Taken to its logical extreme, one could simplify to the point of effectively removing every element in the frame, thus making the center of interest difficult to identify because it has been omitted entirely. The goal of the exercise is to simplify the composition to the point where the center of interest is best enhanced. That may involve removing most of the elements, or just a few. (Sometimes, after all, additional elements in the frame complement the center of interest, making it more rather than less apparent.)

To echo the introduction to this entry, there are no absolutes and no objective truths connected to any of this. The only way to know whether you’ve simplified too much…or not enough…or just enough is to go through the exercise and ask yourself—not someone else—if you like the end result. How can you be sure that you’ve got it right? You’ll know when you see it.

 Thursday Tips is written by Kerry Mark Leibowitz, a guest blogger on 1001 Scribbles, and appears every other Thursday. To read more of his thoughts on photography, please visit his blog: Lightscapes Nature Photography.

Thursday Tips: Synecdoche and Photographic Composition

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composition, Photography, Tips

syn·ec·do·che

noun \sə-ˈnek-də-(ˌ)kē\

: a figure of speech by which a part is put for the whole (as fifty sail for fifty ships), or the whole for a part (as society for high society)

I first ran across the rather arcane word “synecdoche” during a literary analysis course I took as an undergraduate at the University of Michigan.  A part for the whole and the whole for a part;  that’s the gist of the synecdoche idea.  What does this have to do with photography, you ask?  Good question.

When it comes to composition—probably my favorite photograph-related topic—one of the most common misconceptions held by novices is the need to always include all of something:  the entire tree, the entire waterfall, the entire building, and so forth.  Here’s a tip:  it’s not true.  It is not imperative to include all of an element to produce an effective composition.  In fact, it’s frequently a good idea not to include the entirety of a particular element.  In many instances, a part of an element stands for the whole.  Synecdoche.

A one-way discussion of compositional principles such as this can become quite esoteric, but bear with me for a moment.

A fairly good, basic guideline to follow when considering composition of a photograph is to ask yourself whether the shot would be more effective—i.e. whether it would better convey the message you’re trying to present—if you included less in the shot.  The answer will often be yes—not always, but quite frequently.  The reason for this is that visual messages are often best delivered when they’re simpler, and that usually means less stimulus material in the frame.  More material often means a more visually cluttered image and the more cluttered an image is visually, the more likely it is to be cluttered in terms of message conveyance.  Again, this is not always true, but it is much of the time.  Once more, the questions to ask yourself:  what am I trying to say?  Does this image, portrayed the way I have it, do that effectively?  Is there a way I could do so more effectively and, if so, how?

On a more direct level, including all of a certain element may simply introduce other elements that you may specifically want to omit.  For instance, including all of a tree may (depending on the circumstances) require including the sky in the image whereas limiting the portrayal to part of the shot may omit the sky.  Consider what including the sky in a shot might mean.  A shot with sky included usually implies less intimacy, for one thing.  And what of the nature of the sky itself?  Is it filled with interesting clouds and or colors?  Is it plain blue?  Or is it a gray, overcast sky?  What do each of those things do to the mood and, by extension, the message of your image?  Is it enhanced or suppressed (or neither)?  The answers to those questions, in the context of what you’re trying to convey, will give you an insight into the best compositional choices.

Something else worth noting—and here’s where we really probe the depths of the synecdoche principle—is that the viewer will often fill in whatever parts of an element you omit when you’re not showing the whole.  A waterfall, for example, displayed with less than the full range of the flow (the top omitted to leave out an uninteresting sky, perhaps?), will allow the viewer to complete the image himself/herself, which can infuse a tiny sense of mystery to the shot.

Sometimes the part of the whole that’s left out is represented by details…or, more precisely, the lack thereof.  Consider the silhouette.  In today’s age of high dynamic range imaging options, a silhouette isn’t a technical compromise; it’s an aesthetic choice.  If you want to display deep shadow detail, the means to do so exist.  But sometimes what’s not displayed speaks more effectively than what could be.

In the end, keep in mind your message and how best to visually convey it.  Sometimes, less is more.

Thursday Tips is written by Kerry Mark Leibowitz, a guest blogger on 1001 Scribbles, and appears every other Thursday.  To read more of his thoughts on photography, please visit his blog:  Lightscapes Nature Photography.