The Art of Composition part 11

In the last installments of the Art of Composition, I introduced some of the concepts around low angle views. While discussing angle of view might not be the sexiest stuff when it comes to composition and wildlife photography, it’s one of the most important components in wildlife photography right out of the gate because of its impact on how our subjects are perceived.

Perception plays such a big role in the success or failure of our photography. And if we aren’t thinking about this stuff when behind the camera, then it’s likely we are just taking snap shots.

I know I have said this a thousand times before, but I’m going to say it again because it is so important if you want to progress as a photographer. Wildlife photography is visual art. And art is inextricable from psychology. There is a reason why some photographs and paintings are so arresting. There is a reason that these things sometimes make us feel so much when we look at them.

And that’s the point of all this: feeling.

How are we making the viewer feel about the subject; how are we making them feel about the photograph?

Because this part of discussing wildlife photography can be a bit more challenging for some folks to “buy into,” before moving forward, I want to take a planned detour here to explore this concept of feeling a little further. While much ink could, and probably should, be spilt on this topic in general, I want to discuss something completely ancillary to all of this as an example of how visual art has real and lasting impact on all of us.  

Follow me down the rabbit hole for a moment. . .

As wildlife photographers, you and I already understand both the calming and healing powers of nature on a fundamental level. Chances are, at the heart of what drives us to dedicate so much of ourselves and our wallets to this thing we love isn’t really all about the photographs. Or, as the barred of Walden Pond once said, “Many men go fishing all their lives without realizing it is not fish they are after.” 

Understanding the physiological and psychological impact that nature has on us is one of the big new frontiers in both science and psychology. From the biochemical domino effect that happens when we breath in the smell of a forest (read: pinenes) to the measurable effect on cortisol levels (stress hormones) after spending just a single hour in nature, to understanding why the two most expensive words in real estate are “ocean view,” researchers are now saying that we have only begun to glimpse the tip of the iceberg when it comes to understand the profoundly important role “nature” plays on every aspect of our lives. 

We have collectively created a society that is overworked, over “tech’ed,” underslept, and exists in a state of mind that some psychologists have come to refer to as “red brained.” That is to say, hypervigilant, constantly bathed in stress hormones, and always one life sized hiccup away from a break down.

But what does this have to do with photography and visual art?

Enter: Fractal Patterns.

Fractals are repeating patterns found in nature. They are not always exact, but they are similar.

Take a tree, for instance. Picture in your mind the infinitely extensive network of tiny roots that come together into larger roots that come together as the trunk of the tree that thrusts upwards and then repeats itself all in reverse – only this time in the form of the branches, twigs, and so on.

Still with me?

Now, if you break out a microscope and look at the “veins” of that tree’s leaves, you will see this exact same pattern again.

That is a fractal.

Let’s go further.

A tree also grows from roots to leaves to look very much like a river of water all coming together across its headwaters and then branching out again across a delta when it reaches the ocean. And all that looks very much like your circulatory system, which looks very much like the ridges and valleys of a mountain range when viewed from above.

Fractal Patterns.

You see, physics is the codec of laws governing all things in the universe. Be it mountains or mongooses, we are all shaped by the very same forces and must work within the very same physical parameters. And thus, we find patterns in nature – over and over and over again.

That’s the basic stuff. Some of these patterns are familiar to us on a conscious level. Most are not. But just because we are not always consciously aware, does not mean they are not all around us in nature and impacting us on an unconscious level.

And it’s these fractal patterns that scientists and psychologists are finding have a profound impact upon our psychology.

Consider this from Psychology Today about fractal patterns:

“The results of many studies show that exposure to fractal patterns in nature reduce people’s levels of stress up to 60%. It seems this stress reduction effect occurs because of a certain physiological resonance within the eye.”

More important to the conversation at hand, however, the same articles goes on to state that, “Bringing nature and those repetitive patterns indoors can have a calming effect on patients.”

Are you paying attention now?

Be honest. Did you ever think that your artwork could save the world?

That it could potentially curtail a stress induced cardiac arrest? 

An anxiety attack?

Give peace of mind to the chaos and confusion of dementia?

To offer a tiny light of hope in a sea of darkness and despair?

Did you know your photography could be the salve that helps to soothe the mental health of others around you?

I didn’t start to learn about this stuff until I began analyzing the sales of my photographs. As someone in the business of selling my interpretations of the art of nature, trying to understand what sells and why is just good business.

One small fact you may not know about me is that I love drone photography. Wildlife photography is my heart and soul, of course. But ever since the first time I was paid to fly around in a little Cessna airplane photographing on assignment for a magazine, I have been completely obsessed with the beautiful patterns of the Earth from above.

In the realm of interior design, I found that my drone photography sold equally as well as my wildlife photography. Wildlife photography is my business. Drone photography was something I did just because it was fun, and I could stare at these photos for hours on end. But the abstract patterns of these Earthscapes, as I like to call them, that I found so hypnotic were being installed in everything from corporate lobbies to hospitals to vacation cottages.

This is when I began to research why these photographs were so captivating to me. And this is when I began to learn about the psychological impact of fractal patterns.

Have you ever stood before a Jackson Pollock painting and found yourself captivated? On a rational level, it’s nearly impossible to explain what is alluring about splatters of paint. And yet, there you stand hypnotized by it all.

Computer analysis has now shown that Pollock was using the exact same types of repeating fractal patterns that can be found in nature. The same patterns that I first became aware of from the cockpit of a Cessna, 800 feet above the Earth. And the same patterns that psychologists can now measure as being able to reduce stress by up to 60% in patients.

But such things aren’t confined to just aerial photos. These same patterns can be found in the structure of feathers, the swirls of fur on a brown bear, and the iris of an eye. When we bring photographs of the natural world into our homes and places of business, we introduce these patterns of nature along with them.

Don’t ever let yourself think that what you are doing is a waste of time.

We need your photography in our lives now more than ever.

You have no idea how many people your artwork may have saved.

And this is why it’s so important for us to consider the impact that our photography has on our viewers. If the patterns of a leaf or a feather can soothe the mind, what does the arrangement of elements in our compositions do? When we find ourselves unable to stop staring at one our own photographs, what does this mean? What combination came together to unlock the secrets of our mind within that photograph?

Consider some of the basic concepts we have discussed here so far and how they reveal that composition is really nothing more than a visual expression of psychology. In the first few articles, I discussed depth of field and both how and why very shallow depths of field can have such impact thanks to the way it emulates the how we respond both psychologically and physiologically when suddenly finding ourselves face to the face with animals in the wild. Likewise, by getting low, by angling our camera up toward our subject, we invoke the same momentary psychological reaction to experiencing the power that a potentially dangerous animal exudes.

If you have ever stood next to a bear or a wild horse, then you know that neither is physically tall. Of course, when the bear stands on her hind legs to get a better sense of the world around, or a wild horse rears up in battle with another stallion, all that changes. But normally, even a large coastal brown bear in Alaska is barely four-foot tall and most wild horses rarely exceed 15 hands in height, and are usually much shorter.

For those unfamiliar with the measurement of horses, a “hand” is a unit of measurement that’s equivalent to about 4 inches, and a pony is any equine that is 14.2 hands or less.

I have spent thousands of hours with the wild horses that eke out a living along the barrier islands off the coast of North Carolina. Known as the Banker Horse (as in the Outer Banks, for where the breed comes from), these horses average between 13 and 14.3 hands in height in the wild. In other words, these horses barely get above 4.5 feet tall at the withers (shoulders), which is how most four legged animals are measured. Yet, when you see my photographs of these incredible animals, small and diminutive are not what you think and feel. And that’s because I don’t want you to.

The size and power of an animal in a photograph is something the artist chooses to convey through the way in which they compose the animal. And you as the viewer of that photograph see and think and feel what you do because art is inextricable from psychology; it’s designed to make you feel.

When I first introduced this series on the art of composition, I opened with the fact that many do not consider photography to be a form of art. Yet photography is no different from any other type of artistic medium. Changing the color of your living room doesn’t make you Michelangelo any more than pulling out your cell phone in Yosemite National Park makes you Ansel Adams. This is why I love the quote by E.H. Gombrich so much, in which he states that “There is really no such thing as art. There are only artists.” And what makes an artist an artist is understanding how to tap into human psychology in some way through a chosen medium of expression.

This is so important to keep in mind as we continue. Your equipment matters very little. The camera you use, the price tag associated with your lens, it means nothing when it comes to the real art of photography. The only thing that matters is light and composition, and what you do with those things to invoke feeling in someone else.