GIVE IT TO ME STRAIGHT

By MICHAEL PERKINS

I’M NOT REALLY CERTAIN IF THE EYE actually has a preferred way to see, factory settings for composition that say “order” and thus facilitate the intake of information. Like you, I have read all the cautionary notes in the how-to books that insist on adherence to certain laws for framing a picture. These tips dictate how to create engaging portraits; how to arrange space for best narrative effect; and, perhaps chief among all of them, a level horizon.

Now here’s where the “rules were meant to be broken” faction in the audience begins to roar its disapproval, as the very idea that art should be subject to rules of any sort is as loathsome as ketchup on cottage cheese. And, yes, I understand that artists gotta art, and that too much formality can be the death of creativity. But then there’s that whole debate (see intro) on how the eye sees, and whether it has a bias toward information that’s arranged in a certain way. Pondering this too long can actually lead to photographic paralysis, a state in which you worry so much about shooting pictures that are “wrong” that you can’t shoot any pictures at all. And, as the Temptations once sang, “that ain’t right…”

Does this look “bent” or “saggy”, or is it just the two martinis I had at lunch?

The idea of trying to put enough “correctness” in the layout of a shot gets tougher the more complicated its subject matter. Consider this image, taken inside a massive conservatory greenhouse. The curved staircase, the arched supports in the ceiling, the standard vanishing points and convergences….all make this composition very, very, complex, and trying to force it to adhere to some kind of calibration or “starting point” by which to engage the eye is tricky. And then there’s the entire discussion over whether I chose a lens (28mm in this case) that is too wide to ensure that the shot is free from distortion, making matters even worse.

The result is certainly dramatic, but perhaps less clear as regards a viewer who is encountering it “cold” without all the mental gymnastics that I put into shooting and tweaking it. And that’s important, because, in a photograph, that’s where my head and someone else’s eye are supposed to meet, to coordinate, if you like. Pictures start in one person’s eye, are transmitted to a machine, and then, at some point, are extruded to become conversations. If you’re lucky. How do we improve our luck? That takes more wisdom than can be contained in the how-to books.