Fig. 1 According to the rule of
thirds, your subject should go at a point where the lines intersect.
Fig.2 A Stool
Fig. 3 The positive space is masked
in black
Fig. 4 The negative space is masked
in black. See how the negative space exists as objects that define the stool. In
fact you can draw the stool simply by drawing the negative spaces alone!
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Composition
A Primer on Positive and Negative space.
By Michael Fulks
Over the past ten years I have been on the board of directors of two local
arts councils, Chairman of the Board of one, and Executive Director, a job which
involved overseeing an art gallery. The gallery welcomed photographers and at
one time 25% of the gallery was devoted to photography. While criteria of
accepting a photographer never hinged on the dreaded "yes, but it is art?"
question, many photographers were dismayed when their work was not accepted. The
judges, while not questioning the issue of art, did judge the work based on
basic things like the photographer's sense of composition. They considered his
use of color or B/W, in other words did his use of color, or lack of it, add
something to the body of work that distinguished him or her from other
photographers. And they looked for something about the work that drew the viewer
into it, captivating him visually or emotionally. Very rarely, and only if one
of the judges was a photographer, did the discussion wander into technical
issues such as depth of field, corner to corner sharpness of the printing, or
choice of papers.
This frustration on the part of many photographers was repeated when they
entered local and regional art shows. Many were rejected without explanation. If
their work was accepted, they often wondered how and why ribbons were awarded in
the photography category, especially if they did not get one. Comments I heard
from photographers ranged from, "But it wasn't even in focus!" to "What
a lousy job of printing!" Clearly they were not seeing what the judges saw.
The difference between what the judges saw and what the photographers saw is
often basic to the "is it art?" question. Preoccupation with technique
generally characterizes a craft rather than an "art." But while many
photographers view their work as art, they often, nonetheless, judge another
photographer's work based upon his or her mastery of technique rather than
artistic merit. Art judges, not versed in the subtleties of technique, tend to
judge a photograph as they do other art, looking for composition, content, and
style.
Many photographers feel that they have mastered composition; after all,
composition was one of the first things they learned in basic photography. But
what they don't know is that what they learned in basic photography is only the
tip of the iceberg. The average photography student probably didn't learn what
most other artists learn in their basic classes. And what artists know
and you don't, as a photographer, may be the key to producing dynamic and award
winning photos. I am speaking, of course, from an artistic point of view. It
probably won't help win you a Pulitzer prize. And it may not help you be a
winner at the local camera club unless your technique is also well polished. But
it may get you noticed more often in the fine art competitions, and it will make
you a better photographer.
Let's begin with the basics. We all learn the basic "rule of thirds"
in our first photography classes. (See figure 1) This was probably the
first time anyone told us to stop putting everything dead center in the picture.
Shooting using the rule of thirds immediately improved our pictures. Nonetheless
you probably had someone in your life who commented that it looked like your
camera slipped, and how come Aunt Edna wasn't centered a little better. But
maybe it was just your choice of subject matter.
While the rule of thirds produces pretty pictures, after a while many of
those pictures start to look alike, especially if you are in a position where
you have to look at a lot of photographs, like an photo editor or a
judge. And because they start to look alike, we may start to look at other
factors such as printing and "technique" or whether the girl in the
picture should have worn more make-up or not. What is happening here is that the
photograph does not interest the eye enough by itself and so we go looking for
something "tangible" to judge it by.
So how do we keep the eye interested? Is putting something "eye-catching"
in the photo the only solution? (Some people think so. Perhaps that is why so
many photography competitions seem to use the unwritten rule: the prettier the
girl in the picture the higher the score. But don't get me started on that one.)
Is there something more subtle going on that controls our interest and engages
the eye and creates a picture that you won't tire of?
The frame, the positive and the negative.
In many basic drawing classes students learn that there are three basic
elements of a composition: the frame, the positive space and the negative space.
The positive space is easiest to understand. Generally, it is the space
occupied by your subject. Conversely, negative space is the space that is not
your subject. Sounds easy doesn't it? Not quite. The negative space is defined
by the edges of the positive space and the frame or border, our third element.
So, part of our negative space is bounded by the frame and another part is
bounded by the positive space. Sometimes the negative space is completely
bounded by the positive space. What is important also to note is that the
negative space also defines our subject. Confused, look at the illustrations of
the stool. (Fig. 2-4) That should make it easier to understand.
Subjectively speaking, a composition "works" when there is a
balance struck between the positive and the negative. A major factor in
controlling this balance is the frame or border of the picture. While the
balance notion is easy to grasp, the contribution of the frame is harder to
grasp and harder to teach, especially to grownups.
The frame is edge of the paper if you're drawing. It could be the edge of
the print, negative or slide in photography. It is the edges of the view finder
in the camera. Sounds easy, but do you know, that most adults are not aware of
the edges of their view finder, or the edges of the paper. They have to be
trained to see it as part of their compositions. Art teachers of pre-adolescent
youngsters tell me that those children pick up on this almost instinctively, but
that it becomes harder to teach the older the child becomes, apparently because
of how we train our minds to process information. The older we get the less
likely we are to categorize the edge of the paper as having important
information or relevance to our composition.
But it does. It is what gives definition to our composition. When I was
taking my fine art photography course, my instructor forbade us to crop. In
teaching us to "see" he wanted to force us to pay attention to the
edges of the view finder. When we presented our pictures for critique, of
course, he was there with the cropping "L's" to take a little off here
and there until suddenly the picture would "pop." He didn't call it
balancing negative and positive space, but I realize now that was what he was
doing. His goal was to teach us to see that balance when we were shooting. He
believed that that would make us more aware of what we were shooting and
more selective and careful when he finally clicked the shutter.
What it also did for me was to make me more aware of the effect of the
background of my photograph, in other words, that which was not my subject - the
negative space. Suddenly I was more aware of elements that would be distractive.
I was aware of when a branch came out of my subject's head, because I saw how it
became linked to the subject's space and threw off the balance of the picture.
This is an important realization: The branch protruding from Aunt Edna's head
not only destroys the picture because it looks funny, but because it upsets the
balance between positive and negative spaces. The branch by making contact with
her head, and being in the same focal plane as her head, becomes part of the
positive space, instead of the negative space as I intended.
This does not mean I do not crop, I do, but I always attempt to see and get
what I want the first time rather than relying on the darkroom or my paper
cutter. And you should crop too, but only if it will improve the balance and
composition of the picture. But how are you cropping? Is it square, oval, round,
or rectangle? We are back to the frame again (frame meaning the physical border
of the photograph.) The very shape of the frame affects the relationship of
positive and negative space. And sometimes the balance isn't achieved by a
standard format. It may be long and narrow! Have you noticed how much more
beautiful a movie looks in "letter-box" format on the "silver
screen" than in the more square format of a TV set. This is the effect of
the frame and the fact that the cinematographer composed the scene knowing that
his frame is the long and narrow of a wide screen. When his work is cropped
arbitrarily to accommodate the TV set, much of the mastery and beauty of the
cinematographer's work is lost.
Composition, the skilled use of the positive and negative spaces interacting
with the edges of your work, has measurable effects on a viewer's eye. For one
thing it provides a road map for his eye to view the picture. Remember that your
goal in composition is controlling your viewer's eye. You want him to see what
you want him to and not to get bored. You want him to discover things that might
not be so obvious.
Continue on to Part 2.
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