PhotoHistory

From: THE BARNET BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHY

Pictorial Photography (Part 2 of 4)

By: A. Horsley Hinton, 1898

Reverting now to our argument, I have in other words suggested that obvious violation of truth will prevent the sentiment or effect of the picture from being paramount, and now I will submit that an excess of accuracy to detail is equally detrimental to the success of a picture as a picture.

If by now the reader is prepared to admit that the chief purpose of a picture is the feelings, emotions, and ideas which it suggests or creates, and not the facts it portrays, he will be able to go further and perceive that in a landscape, for instance, cottages, trees, or what not are introduced, not for their own intrinsic interest but as vehicles of light and shade, which go to express the picture’s sentiments.

If we stand before a good picture with closed eyes and suddenly open them, our first impression (precluding any question of color) is that of masses of light and shade pleasingly and harmoniously arranged; if we retreat to such a distance that the objects constituting those lights and shades are unrecognizable the balance and pleasing arrangement should still be felt, and our aesthetic sense is satisfied, although we do not see fully of what the picture is composed. This is the quality which is termed breadth and which is admittedly of very great value.

If on the other hand the shadow masses are filled with innumerable details, and are thus broken up into tiny lights and shadows they no longer exist as broad masses of dark, but if before retreating as proposed from the picture, the lights or shadows appear so blank as to prompt particular investigation, and upon examination we find detail absent which we know must have been present, then we encounter an instance of untruth and exaggeration which is obvious and which disturbs our appreciation of other fine qualities. Thus we require sufficient detail to avoid giving the idea that detail is left out.

The delineation of sharp outlines and redundance of detail is not wrong in itself, but it is usually inexpedient when considered with respect to the effect to be produced, similarly the suppression of sharp focus both as regards outlines and details has no artistic merit of itself — except as it assists the picture to impress the beholder first with the general effect.

The painter and photographer start from two opposite standpoints. The painter, or draftsman, starts with nothing but blank paper, and having built up his picture and produced his desired effect he elaborates no further; the photographer with his more or less mechanically produced facsimile starts from the opposite extreme with a transcendentally elaborate image, from which he will be required to eliminate all such excess of truth as is likely to force the mere facts of the view upon the beholder’s attention.

Photography, so faultlessly complete in its delineation, gives us more than the pictorial worker needs for the expression of an idea, and this is why I would remind the student that pictorial photography is not photography in the full sense of the word, but the application of some of its powers, just as much as we need and no more, to a definite end.

As just hinted the purpose of a picture is to express ideas, hence I will fall back on a kind of definition which I have used on a previous occasion that a picture is the portrayal of visible concrete things for the expression of abstract ideas.

To give an example by way of exposition we may look upon a picture and be made to feel by it the calm and luminous atmosphere of evening; we feel at once the restfulness, and almost feel the warmth of the humid air, giving place to the chill gathering mists of night; but the same objects, the same tangible materials, paper, pigment, metallic salts, etc., in another picture give us the sense of angry turbulent storm or perhaps bright joyous sunshine frolicking with the fresh breezes on the hill-tops. These are abstract ideas expressed or created by the manner in which concrete things, commonplace facts, are portrayed and rendered.

Finally, let me enunciate that a very excellent photograph may not necessarily be a good picture, because it may contain more than is required for the expression of its idea, and the surplus will overwhelm it; again, a good pictorial photograph may be but a poor photograph, because if we claim the right to apply photographic means to pictorial ends, we may find it convenient to leave out the very qualities which the scientific or technical expert considers most precious.

And now I think we may proceed to more practical matters.

COMPOSITION AND SELECTION

In all matters from which the eye expects to derive pleasure, symmetry of design seems essential. In the formation of the letters that we write, in personal attire, in the decoration of our homes, in buildings, and practically in everything which is not of a purely utilitarian character, a sense of proportion and a symmetrical disposition of parts is observed. Hence it is no source of surprise that in a picture — which as much as anything should aim at pleasing the eye — design, otherwise Composition, is with Expression a co-essential.

In a purely decorative production this natural desire of design is the only thing to be observed, but in a picture which may be decorative, but must be something more, we have expression as well to consider If decoration alone were to be regarded, something like fixed rules might perhaps be tyrannically laid down, but in a picture the implicit observance of rules of composition would be certain to make itself seen in the result, and the undue obtrusiveness of a code of rules would be as inimical to the supremacy of ideas and feelings, as the excessive prominence of fact would be, which has already been described.

Hence the difficulty in prescribing any definite course for the beginner, because whilst to most instinctive artistic temperaments a certain knowledge of — or feeling for — composition is natural, so soon as this is reduced to definite rule and given to another, the secondhand use is nearly certain to betray itself by its misapplication. I would ask therefore that any suggestions given here on the subject of composition should be taken as one takes lessons in the rudiments of a language, which rudiments we violate and forget so soon as we have become proficient enough to speak it. Such rules in composition should be. observed only so far as to avoid the appearance of having infringed or ignored them.

The rules of composition which may be found to apply in one of the pictorial arts must necessarily apply equally in the others, and so therefore to pictorial photography which at least aspires to be considered an art. If on a sheet of paper a rectangular space is given us wherein to draw the likeness of anything, the most natural course to pursue would be to draw that figure in the center or thereabouts, and if then we are asked to add the likeness of two or three more objects we should naturally place these near the first object. Thus should we compose a group of objects which draw the attention to the middle of the picture or space.

Suppose we are asked to draw the picture of a church tower we should probably comply with the request somewhat along those lines. Next we will suppose we are asked to add a cottage, some trees, and a path to the church, we should, if possessed of some sense of symmetry and order, coupled with average intelligence, make the additions somewhat evenly and near the tower. It would surely be an unusual thing to instead place the tower on one edge, the trees near the center, and the cottage at the opposite edge.

Typically we have instinctively placed the primary object in or near the center, and the others near and around it, and the result strikes one at once as being better composed, that is, more symmetrical, than in that last example, in which amongst other things one is not sure which object to regard as the principal one, and one also feels that but for the boundaries of the picture left and right we might have seen a good deal more beyond, which would have added to the interest of the picture.

In this we have one of the first rules in composition, namely, that the principal object should be near the center, and the next important near to, and as it were supporting it, and no object likely to attract the eye should be so near the edge of the picture as to make us instantly conscious of the boundaries and wish to see more beyond.

But now if in compliance with the supposed request we had made our drawing with the composition exactly centered, might it not at once be felt by the observer that we had put the objects in a central position intentionally, which is equivalent to saying that we had allowed our endeavor to observe the rule just laid down to betray itself. It is preferable being only just sufficiently symmetrical to avoid being unsymmetrical, which is an example of what has already been said about the necessity of observing rules of composition just so far as to escape the appearance of having broken them.

If this rule is right as regards voluntarily drawing a picture, it is equally so in the case of a photograph, but instead of deliberately placing things in such and such positions, we attain the same end by moving the camera and selecting our point of view so that the objects come into the positions desired.

Now suppose then, we have done this, but in doing it we are quite unable to prevent other objects coming into the field of view and occupying undesirable places near the margins of the picture. Here we are brought to consider another rule or principle in composition, namely, that there must be one and only one chief object in the picture, whereas other objects attracting attention to the margins of the picture arrest the attention quite as much as the main subject, and we feel the eye wandering about from one to the other and missing the sensation of centralization and rest.

If we were drawing or painting we should put in what we want and then stop, we should omit or ignore what we did not require, but in photography our powers in this direction are limited, and hence we must — as far as possible — select those views, and only accept such, as comply with what we feel to be right.