The Role of Composition
Formal composition plays an essential role in the analytic and synthetic process described in an earlier Note.[1] A sense of composition, an attention to formal detail, can serve to reveal both the order and disorder inherent in the subject (in other words, the level of entropy). This is because the formal structure of an image suggests that there is an order here, an internal logic to the visual scene, but that this order is only part of the story. The order, because it is incomplete, calls attention to the disorder – often the most interesting part of the image. A suggestion of partial and incomplete symmetry in tension with an image’s asymmetrical elements can result in powerful clarity. In short, a photograph’s formal composition can tell what the visual scene is actually about, in the sense of how it works from a visual perspective (as opposed to the particular subject matter). In this sense, a photograph is always about the relationships of the visual elements depicted in the photograph.
As a preliminary matter, it is helpful to define what is meant (or not meant) in this context by formal composition. Formal composition means the framing and arrangement of the visual elements of the photograph in a way that reflects, elucidates and, at the same time, imposes the relationship of these visual elements to each other. The key concept in this regard is the relationship of the visual elements: Formal composition does not consist of simply “spotting” various geometrical forms or other visual or design elements, nor does it mean the mindless adherence to so-called compositional “rules.”[2] Instead, formal composition, by means of framing, depth of field, focus and other technical decisions works to show the dynamical relationship between these elements – or the apparent lack of any such relationship. In doing so, formal composition both reveals and imposes structure, a structure derived from and imposed upon the relationship of the scene’s elements.
Viewed this way, it is fair to say that formal composition, far from being the empty formalism that the name might imply, is an integral part of photographic art’s epistemic endeavor.[3] This plays out in multiple ways.
First, the formal composition of a photographic image is an active and conscious action. A verb, rather than a noun. The photographer composes the image, and does so both by analyzing the visual scene, and by the decisions made in capturing and rendering the image. Each of these decisions – what is left in, what is excluded, the creation of the visual and temporal frame of the photographic image – are both elements of and reflective of the synthetic process. Moreover, in composing a photographic image, there is an ongoing interplay of the analytic and synthetic elements. Analysis of the visual scene is the prerequisite to, and often suggests, synthesis. To state the obvious, a deeper understanding of the visual scene allows for more creative – synthetic – possibilities. Similarly, the synthetic process – an altering of the composition by, for example, a shifting of perspective or of the outer boundaries of the frame – can reveal new detail and understanding of the existing visual scene. Synthesis begets further analysis and understanding.
Second, by emphasizing certain elements and de-emphasizing or ignoring others, formal composition asserts that this is what is worth looking at, and not that. As such, it asserts what merits sustained observation, and what does not. This strikes me as being of particular importance.[4] Photographs of things that would go unnoticed, that are normally thought of as not worthy of notice or sustained attention, are almost always the most interesting ones. More “news from nowhere” is more interesting than photographs of well-known and ostensibly “important” or “aesthetic” subject matter, which, at best, often have nothing new to say and, at worst, are painfully clichéd or sentimental. Careful observation of the ostensibly mundane and the banal – learning to see, to pay attention to the world instead of staring at one’s ubiquitous electronic sedatives – is a powerful antidote to the sleep walking that is nothing more than the subdued and shuffling dance macabre of the unobserved and unlived life.
Formal composition asserts that this scene, at least potentially, merits further visual investigation and consideration, not because of any intrinsic significance to the objects or persons in the photograph, but because of how the visual elements of the photograph relate to each other.[5] The specific objects or people populating the photograph often are, at best, a distraction to the real point of the photograph: how each visual element connects, through color, tone, geometry or the like, to the other visual elements in the photograph. If nothing else, the act of photographing such things is akin to a scientific experiment, in which the constant hypothesis is that this (i.e., the particular relationships of these visual elements to each other) is deserving of one’s careful attention.[6]
Third, because of its synthetic and active nature, formal composition necessarily calls attention to the photographer’s artifice and, implicitly, the synthesis inherent in any effort to make a cohesive whole of any sense datum. This is because a formally composed image’s assertion that a particular visual scene merits further attention is a conditional claim: this is worth looking at and paying attention to by you, provided that it is looked at in this way. The formal composition instructs as to not only what is of interest, but also how to look at the visual scene. One step to the right, one to the left, makes all the difference. Move or shift perspective, and you have something new: the new composition may be worth looking at or may be even better, or it may not, but in any event it is not the same.
Fourth, by calling attention to the photographer’s artifice, the photograph’s formal composition also emphasizes the relativistic nature of the photographer’s point of view. This assertion – look at things this way and you will understand – reeks of the photographer’s hubris. Rather than conveying objective information, the deliberate composition of a photograph instead calls attention to the particularized artifice of the photographer, thereby implicitly subordinating any putative or inherent order of the visual scene itself.
Fifth, formal composition also shows how that relativistic point of view can, at least in theory, be shared, leading to a common knowledge or understanding. The formal composition of a photographic image, if successful, literally (albeit fictionally) creates the potential for a common or shared point of view.[7] Because the photographic image memorializes that relative point of view, it has the paradoxical effect of simultaneously asserting that each of us has a unique and particular point of view (at least visually), but that this unique knowledge can nonetheless, at least in theory, be shared or communicated. A photograph asserts that this is what I discovered, and it can be yours. Despite all appearances to the contrary, we can both step into the same river twice.
Formal composition is able to do so because it operates in a manner somewhat analogous to the role of grammar in language. In language, grammar provides a structure that works to organize the individual elements into a (potentially) intelligible whole. the Huntsville sent gaschamber boy one I at to is gibberish and I sent one boy to the gaschamber at Huntsville is not. The latter collection of words operates as a coherent unit because of the grammar that organizes what might otherwise be a collection of random elements. In language, grammar helps shape the elements of a sentence or proposition into a structure or sequence where the symbolic import of the whole can be conveyed in concert, as opposed to the cacophonic symbolic import of the individual words. Photographic composition similarly can provide a framework or structure – an armature – that provide support for a deeper visual understanding than would be otherwise possible. As such, the formal composition of a photographic image can serve to organize the different elements of an image into a coherent whole.
This similar function of grammar in language and composition in photography is not surprising in that both language and photography are symbolic structures.[8] The inherently symbolic nature of language is obvious. The symbolic nature of photographs refers not to some religious or other cultural connotation, but to the fact that a photographic image represents a different reality or object – a different collection of sense datum – than the photograph (whether printed or viewed on a screen) itself. A photograph of a pipe is not a pipe, anymore than a painting of pipe is a pipe. A photograph of a pipe is instead a symbolic representation of that particular pipe. The fact that a photograph appears to be “realistic” does not change the fundamental fact that a photographic is not the object or scene that it shows, but a symbolic representation of such scene.[9] All “realistic” means in this context is that the symbol appears to correspond to the represented object beyond a sufficient threshold.[10]
Finally, the formal composition of a photographic bears an important relationship to the temporal aspects of photography. Because a photograph reflects and implies a period of time, rather than a single moment, its formal structure necessarily has a temporal aspect. The visual elements – and their respective dynamical relationships to each other – exist in a period of ongoing time. Moreover, the viewer’s comprehension of these elements – first this, then that – also plays out over time. The formal composition of a photographic, by emphasizing this over that, suggests a temporal order, which if nothing else, mimics the temporal order of the observer’s perception.
A musical analogue is helpful: a single note needs nothing, nor does it convey anything. Conversely, a series of notes, played over time, works in the context of an overall structure: a key, a time signature, a rhythm. The formal composition of a photographic image is in some respects analogous to the time signature of a piece of music: it is there from the beginning, but plays out over time, both imposing and revealing the image’s rhythm.
[1] Photography as an Analytic and Synthetic Process, September 10, 2017.
[2] To state the obvious, a mindless adherence to “rules” of composition will not result in a good photograph, much less one that might be considered to be art. To the contrary, the bending or breaching of such “rules” can often offer significant visual insights. The viewer often expects to be lead where normal compositional “rules” would suggest; the deviance from or bending of such “rules” can serve a purpose analogous to syncopation in music.
[3] The importance of composition in photographic art is not, as in an earlier era, a slavish and futile imitation of the techniques of painting. First, the commonality of composition to both art forms does not imply that the artistic import of photographic images is derived from or dependent upon any resemblance to paintings. Second, there are obvious differences in how composition plays out in these different art forms. Absent a scene posed or staged for the purposes of creating a photograph, photographic composition is constrained by the physical elements of the world, whether natural or man made. That said, there can be significant overlap in compositional approaches, with each borrowing from the other (e.g., photorealist painting borrowing from an idealized photographic world).
[4] The fact that composition works to exclude is also important. Comprehension and understanding are possible not only by virtue of focusing on what matters, but discarding that which does not. Each composition, by creating a spatial and temporal frame, necessarily excludes vastly more than it includes. Again, this is similar to consciousness, which functions by, among other things, greatly limiting that which it is conscious of at any given moment.
[5] The fact that a photograph is of a historic or socially significant event, while perhaps important from a documentary perspective, does not make the photograph interesting as a photograph.
[6] Even if it turns out that this scene was not interesting, this “experiment’ is not a failure, any more than a scientific experiment is a failure if the outcome differs from that predicted by the underlying theory. One has still looked and examined the world; one has paid attention.
[7] This potential for a shared point of view is at least twofold: First, there is the possibility of the photographer and the viewer sharing the photographer’s vision. Second, there is the possibility of multiple viewers’ derivative understanding of the photographic image overlapping or coalescing around a common viewpoint. Given that the symbolic operation of photographic images is different than language because, among other things, the viewer’s perception of the image is shaped by the viewer’s aesthetic understanding, education and inclinations, there is distinct possibility that a common understanding (or perhaps misunderstanding) of the photograph exists in the second instance among multiple viewers that belies the lack of any true shared understanding between the photographer and any single viewer. In other words, a shared understanding between the photographer and the viewer is by no means a necessary (or for that matter, sufficient) condition for a shared understanding between viewers.
[8] Abstract photographs presumably function differently at a symbolic level than more “realistic” photographs. I would anticipate discussing this issue in a future Note.
[9] This is particularly obvious with respect to black and white photographs, since most people do not live in a monochromatic world. Black and white photographs are nonetheless seen as “realistic.”
[10] Of course, because language and photographic images function differently as symbolic structures, the degree to which a point of view, a vision, can be successfully shared differs in each case. The difficulty of accurately sharing such vision without falling into cliché is one of the challenges of photographic art.
© 2018 Lawrence Gottesman. All rights reserved.