I have never liked the phrase “rules of composition.” To me, it seems too formal, suggesting that such a complex topic as composition can be boiled down to a few quick tips. So, in a blatant attempt to out-do John Sherman’s provocative “Is Nikon’s New 500mm FL Too Sharp?” title, I have aimed this article at the heart of photography school’s most basic lesson in composition: the rule of thirds.
In this third installment to this series on visualization and film photography, I have selected a sample of photographs (mostly made in the 35mm format) to share and discuss. Although I heavily focused on technical aspects in film photography in Part I and Part II of this series, my goal with this article is to provide a more aesthetic description and simplified approach to the construction of photographs. I thought it would be of interest to beginning 35mm photographers to briefly discuss some of the film choices available. Although the choices of film stocks have dwindled over the years, fortunately there remain a plethora of excellent professional and consumer 35mm films from which to choose and enjoy. Even though I have used many – but not all – of the available film stocks, I cannot possibly discuss all of them here. For one particular film stock, I am delighted to share a pair of interviews with more experienced photographers that readers might find interesting and helpful. Of note, Photography Life contributor Vaibhav Tripathi has previously shared his experiences and beautiful photographs made on 35mm with Fuji’s Velvia 50 and Kodak’s Portra stocks in his inspiring photo essays on Acadia National Park, landscape photography, and Waterfalls of New England series that may also be of interest.
In this second installment to this series on visualization and film photography, I have selected two photographs, “Gravida” and “Pyramis” (both architecture), to share and discuss. As in Part I to this series, I will provide a detailed description of the thought process behind the construction of the photographs, the choice of tools, and the technical considerations involved.
As a follow-up to my previous essays on visualization, in this article I will share select photographs made on film with a detailed description of the thought process, the choice of tools, and technical considerations that were involved. I have chosen two starkly different photographs (both landscapes) to discuss. I hope that these photos with the accompanying narrative will prove interesting and helpful to beginning film photographers and perhaps guide more experienced photographers in advanced techniques and approaches. Of note, Photography Life contributors John Bosley, Laura Murray and Vaibhav Tripathi have previously written excellent essays on film photography that may also be of interest.
As photographers we all do our best to really think about the composition of our images and construct them to achieve a sense of balance. When we do this well we are able to control eye flow and create a pleasant viewing experience for people looking at our photographs. To accomplish that we often use the Rule of Thirds in our compositions. Obviously this is much easier to utilize when photographing static subjects such as landscapes and much more difficult to achieve when our subjects are moving.
Balance is one of the least-discussed principles of good composition, but it is perhaps the most important. Photographers, consciously or not, make an important decision for every image: should the composition be balanced or imbalanced? To some degree, every photograph in existence has elements of both balance and imbalance, which makes this topic crucial for photographers looking to improve the strength of their images at the most fundamental level.
Hello, my name is Rick Keller. I am an amateur photographer who lives in San Diego, CA, one of many readers of Photography Life, and an occasional participant in its forums. Recently, after having participated in the Photography Life Photo Critique forum and Weekly Critique Section, Nasim Mansurov graciously and enthusiastically extended me an invitation to write a guest article for Photography Life to share more of my film work and discuss the tools and methodology that I use. I wholeheartedly accepted the invitation. As I pondered this task, it was immediately apparent that I could write such an article in a variety of ways, each of which might lead to a discussion of additional subtopics in both general photography and film photography. As I contemplated a specific topic to discuss, I felt that it would be more meaningful and productive to write an article that is both interesting and educational as opposed to a prosaic description of a few photographs and the choices of tools. As tempting as it is to delve straight into a detailed description of his/her work in photography, I concluded that I could not in good conscious write a pure show-and-tell article on my film exploits without first describing my general approach to photography – an approach that is grounded in classic teachings, shapes my contemplative process, guides why and how I choose my compositions, and ultimately determines the subsequent process of making the print. Then, and only then, would I feel comfortable writing a dedicated article on my film work. Thus, after much deliberation, this is how I decided to proceed with this invitation. In this essay, I will briefly discuss the history of a fundamental, yet still under-emphasized, concept in photography along with an integral (and underrated) tool that epitomizes this concept. Subsequently, in a follow-up article, I plan to share an essay that chronicles one of my of most cherished photographs and which I believe illustrates the emotional and creative process of visualization. And in a third follow-up article, I will share a select group of photographs that I have made on film and briefly describe the technical process involved and the ancillary services that I use for development, scanning, printing, as well as introduce other subtopics for a future discussion.
We all have our strengths and weaknesses, as well as ways to deal with the latter. And it is only natural for us to sort of… drift towards our strengths. Hold on to them, practice as often as we can and, by doing so, get even better at them. And so, before I inevitably talk about close-up portraits (which I am not very good at), I thought I’d first discuss much more loosely composed photography (which, though far from having mastered, I dare say I am rather better at).
My word. This is such a relief to write about.
It has always been very hard for me to judge my own work. No matter what I do, more often than not I end up not liking it. I find flaws, things I could have done better, almost all the time. The worst sort of case is when I just feel there is something missing, something I can’t quite put my finger on. But here’s the funny bit – I am betting you feel me. Because it’s the same with most photographers. I often ask Nasim if he thinks the photographs I show with my articles are “good enough”, he does the exact same thing, too. Self-critique and uncertainty is a very important and inseparable part of being a photographer, a sort of an “engine” that drives us forward. Or stalls us.
You already know a great deal about the composition choices that I make. You know my thoughts on what matters most in photography, the rule of thirds, central composition and element placement at the edges of the frame. Whichever preference is yours, I certainly hope you’ve learned something from reading those articles. Now, I am about to share something else with you, and here is where we start: regardless of where I place the important elements in my photography, whenever I have the chance I always, always surround, enhance, bathe them in negative space.