Composition and Meaning. A Short Lesson.

Stop talking  banalities. Especially the ones with long art theory words in them. Please.

I could read it in his eyes, framed in the very polite frown that people put on their faces when they want to be seen focused and “with you”.  He was a friend of mine I’d decided to introduce to the scratched worlds of Gerhard Richter at Tate Modern.

I was talking about composition, saying something like “in a great painting, composition is the key to understand the meaning of the story the artist wanted to tell”.

I admit, it is a phrase void of any practical meaning until applied to a real painting. Like what I did in the previous post on  a Van Gogh’s landscape. But you don’t have a Van Gogh painting whenever you need it. As with many things in life, when you need it most, it’s not there.

So, I thought of an object-based lesson right there, on the spot.

The lesson involved three meanings that a picture of London taken from the second floor of Tate should be sending across to a potential viewer.

Task 1. Take a “touristic” photo, saying I’ve been to London.

Easy. Most interesting shapes, forms, scenes in the middle, not too much of the sky, not to much of the river, with the usual instinct to get everything, including both banks of the Thames,  into a single picture.  You don’t have to think to take it, it just comes out on its own.

Task 2. London is a spiritual city.

Merchants, city bankers, embankment restaurants, the bustle of the megapolice life rhymed by the cupolas and spires of churches and cathedrals. Voilà! We don’t show the river, we show the skies, the spires, and the city.

Task 3. London is a city which history is linked to the river.

Ok, forget the skies, focus on the river and wait until a couple of ships sail into the frame, preferably in the opposite directions.

We didn’t wait for the ships, we imagined them.

Task 4. Take a picture that will have a human dimension, what the newspapers call “a human story”. A human story in London. I was surprised that my tired friend came up with a solution in a few seconds.

Very lonely art lover who is in love with Tate. She’s not happy, methinks. She wants to be there in the city, mingle with the crowd, meet someone who is not Tate! But she’s stuck. She is afraid to cross the rubicon of the Thames in search of a new life.

I find his story madly romantic. For all I know, the lady in the picture could be  a happy mom of two. But what matters, is that he learned how “composition becomes the key to the meaning”.

Next time you happen to be at a spot from which everyone is taking pictures as if the view is bound to stop existing tomorrow – think about three different meanings, and change the composition to accomodate each of them.

It’s a game best played by two. If it is your boyfriend or girlfriend – I promise the romantic returns of immesurable worth. 

126 comments

  1. Fantastic advice, and so well-presented. I love shots like your last one, the ones telling a story. Different people would probably read different stories from the same photo and that makes them fascinating. Thanks for sharing 🙂

    1. Thank you! I’m more than just flattered, really. Thanks for reblogging the post and those kind words you used to introduce it. I hope you’d enjoy some other posts (especially the neighboring Van Gogh – there’s a lot said about the composition as well. I promise more exercises in my future posts. I’ve been developing the techniques for about a decade ) It’s time to share them!

  2. I’ve always believed that photography was an art and that the art began when the photographer decided where to stand. It is also interesting that you can stand in the same spot and what you include in the shot can change its message. I enjoyed the post and the London scene.

  3. This is great! I’ve been having trouble with the plot of my novel recently, and even though you’re talking about photography and paintings, it actually helped me a little. All art has some common ground, right? Just the spark I needed–thank you.

    1. Thank you! I can suggest a few other posts that you may find somewhat inspirations. Posts on conflict in Van Gogh portrait or, even better, a post on Matisse and Pollaiuolo that I had in early November. Let me know what you think, please!

    1. Thank you, of course there’ll be more. You can glean a couple even now, from the post on Van Gogh. Or, if you delve somewhat deeper, there was a post on Matisse, also quite applicable to photography. But I promise that I’ll make sure there would be more exercises in future )

    1. I am sure it will ) I have been mostly doing exercises for painters, but I will make sure to expand the audience to photographers ) Thank you for taking you time to read it all and share your thoughts! )

  4. “…my monthly visits to London…” – coming from Australia I am envious. Your game is really interesting. I work in a part of the city that is covered in tourists (and tour groups) carrying DSLRs, so my colleagues and I can play that game every lunchtime!

      1. You should come and visit! Not just for the beaches and harbour, there is a really good private art gallery in Hobart (Mona). I am going to visit Mona in January and can’t wait.

        1. Believe me, this is not the ugliest structure in the world. Come to Moscow, you’d see ugliness dotting the landscape all around you. Fortunately, there are still many spots I love )

  5. Thanks for the insight and using photos in your explanation. I never realised how a simple change could make such a huge difference 🙂

  6. Wow this short little lesson really made me look at photographs in a new way, especially the ones I’m taking and what it is exactly that I want to capture. Thank you for this quick lesson!

  7. Now I am looking back over my photographs and wondering about the subtext of my composition, in those images where I chose one way over another (sometimes without much thought). And now I am so excited, it’s like thinking about pictures in an entirely new way, even if there’s nothing in any of the sentences which is news to me – the cumulative effect is like magic.

    I can’t wait to play…and I won’t even hold you to the romantic returns!

    1. Thank you! I hope that some other exercises in my other posts will inspire you in the same way ) I plan to have more of them. Please drop me a line about the results of your experiments! )

  8. I was sat there three weeks ago and that lady was there then. Maybe she is stuck or deceased, but then that would be a completely different story i suppose.

    1. I am sure THAT lady wasn’t there ) But there are always people sitting at that counter, because it is the kind of place that links you back to reality from inside the imaginative and often artificial world of the gallery. Thank you for your observation – it made me think of a piece that would be reflecting just that. People looking outside as if trying to gulp a breath of fresh, living air. I just wonder what composition THAT would be! Thanks again. For stopping by and sharing your thoughts!

  9. Thank you for this. I’m by no means an artist and “composition” meant nothing to me till now. You’ve taught me something I really appreciate!

  10. I love your simple but very powerful examples of composition. Great lesson!
    Congrats on being Freshly Pressed! I’m happy it helped me find your blog!

    1. Thank you! I base all my art posts on visual examples because I hate those multi-syllable words which are a-plenty in books on art ) I am happy that being on FP brought in so many wonderful readers ) So, thank you again!

  11. A great read and showing how important it is to have a purpose when taking a photograph. And then work on the composition. My favourite picture is the last one with the human touch.

    1. Yes, you are right. Mindless camera clicking can produce a good result in 1 case out of a thousand, but then a mindless clicker won’t be able to see it anyway ) I also love the human touch pics. It somehow makes you a part of a larger group in the very isolated urban world. Thank you!

    1. Chad, when I was a kid I dreamt of visitng Athens, because I was ancient history geek. By now, I’ve covered almost all of Europe, but not Athens. Fate is a thing to wonder ) But I wish you that your dream comes true – not “someday”, but, say, next year? Thank you!

  12. Do my eyes deceive me or is that a UFO hovering over the city in the last photo?

    I enjoy reading your posts. It inspires me to finally post something that falls within the topic of art history.

  13. This is so fun! My boyfriend and I have mini-photo-taking competitions all the time but I think this will help put things in perspective. (Also I love London!)

  14. Great thoughts! I go back and forth in my posts, finding a single image that makes a comment, or a set of 3 or 4 images that give a cubist view of something. Thanks!

      1. I’ve been easing back into writing poetry after a gap of 30 years and realized there’s a cubist sensibility in how I’ve been putting photo posts together with how I write poetry!

  15. What a wonderful perspective! I’m starting to take my photographs more seriously now and allowing a subject to tell its many stories is absolutely brilliant! Thanks so much for the share. I’m excited to start clicking again!

    1. yes, and the same is true for painting as well. No two artists painting the same subject from the same spot can produce the same result ) Thank you, I am happy you’ve followed me because I’ll be waiting for your insights!

  16. “As with many things in life, when you need it most, it’s not there.” So true. A reproduction of a painting just can’t match the original.
    I hope you enjoyed London!
    Lucy

  17. Very good advise! One can change the story of the shot so much only with the composition itself. I also try to play a bit with depth of field while shooting closer objects to help, directing the viewer to attention areas. Very good blog post! Cheers, Andreas

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