This text had
in mind following media (all with significantly different impression of
composition): mainly photography and film, then painting (including drawing
and graphic arts), all in different possibilities of presentation. With
all the respect to the three dimensional composition of sculpture and architecture,
these have been somewhat put aside, in regard to the importance
of frame for this study. For the same reason, the theater (including the
dance, and opera), often can be interpreted in relation to the frame,
conditional to the traditional division between the stage and auditorium,
and created direction of sight.
I will happily spare you from the tedious description of every mentioned medium
and its specifics. What matters the most is the level
of abstraction they use, similarities and dissimilarities in how they translate the reality. What we so far missed to address is the context, circumstance of our contact
with an image and how it influences the composition as we see it. A painting, drawing
or photograph can be found on the floor of a studio, or printed in a book,
or perhaps in the magazine folded in our pocket. Not going into what
print reproduction can do to an image, or the obvious influence of the
magazine layout, there is one fundamental difference between having this
image in our hand, and standing in front of it hung on the
gallery wall. There is a difference of relation - between something
as intimate as our pocket, and as pompous as the Louvre wall.
Besides, the image on the wall is firmly anchored in the specific spatial
orientation. That's why the hanging is so important: mostly in relation to the other images, and then of
course to the interior design and architecture of the place - a "neutral
spot" is a myth. This is a serious quest if our
mission is to allow every image its complete, undisturbed and autonomous
life.
The size of image belongs in the same category. This is not
only the physical size, but everything influencing the angle of view: mainly
our distance from it, somewhat arbitrary in the gallery, but more determined
in the printed form, and completely by the theater row (or the distance between the sofa and TV). Size of an imaginary field perceived as
a whole is what's at stake here. While a post stamp can hardly be
observed as else but an indivisible whole, let's just imagine standing close to a huge mural: perception is reduced to collecting individual elements
that only our imagination can join. Every image has only one best distance
for the observation; there is only one "right" row in the theater: it is
the one where we are still capable of feeling the whole - but already have
the insight into the smaller relations inside it. Emotionally, the loss
of the perception of whole feels like a certain fall in the gaps of space
in the image: maybe that's what the cinema front row addicts are looking for?
It is also interesting how much of a difference there is between the
hanging and projection of the same image - mostly by changing the
character of frame. The best example is a photograph on the wall, and the
same projected as a slide. First to be noticed is a different relation
of the image with the background surface. Viewing the image that's lit
by the same light as our surrounding just isn't the same as looking at
the image which glows at us from the all-encompassing darkness. The mentioned
spatial orientation difference aside, the isolation of a projection also
closes in on the illusion of reality, thereby shifting the level of abstraction,
and especially the importance and strength of frame. Projection makes the
image more real, so empathy becomes relation, two dimensions unfold into
three, and the all mighty "edge of the world" becomes only a window into
one, thus disarming a number of compositional elements and forces.
It is by now also clear that I do not absolutely favor sharpness:
its level is a fundamental attribute of image, often subconsciously perceived,
and characteristically different among mediums. The standard of sharpness is
established not only by the technical limitations, but also by the subjective
average, eyesight capacities, and also the viewing situation.
What we didn't yet mention is the influence of time on composition
– observed in basic difference between photography and motion picture.
The absence of the time flow, timelessness, is always perceived as a sort
of liberation in eternity - so we take the immobile composition just like
that: once for all, without expecting a change. Introduction of the time
element has different consequences. For example, an unstable or even dynamic
composition will have a harder time establishing its essential feeling: it will
all too easy slip into a simple expectation of change, if we know that the change is possible. The duration of
the film take in relation to the amount of information present is a (very interesting) subject
for a whole book (which has been a published dissertation of my dear late professor Ante Peterlic, and can be found in bibliography at the end). |