Photographing staircases

click photo to enlarge
Photographers seem drawn to photographing staircases in the way that painters paint bowls of fruit, and perhaps for similar reasons - it is a very three-dimensional subject depicted in two dimensions. Architects put a lot of work into staircases and over the centuries have come up with many variations, some ornate, others utilitarian. The wrongly named spiral staircase (they are almost always helicoidal) must take the prize for the most photographed design, and I've taken my share of examples of both elaborate and simple construction.

Any staircase that involves a change of direction (called in this instance a "return") gives a photographer a strong set of lines and a visual route through an image, and this must lie at the centre of its attraction as a subject. Handrails, balusters, newel posts, wall stringers, lighting etc add further elements though the most important is often people using the staircase. Today's example was taken in a relatively dark staircase at Tate Modern in London. Here I liked the contrast of the flat dark areas and the subtly shaded lighter areas as well as the line created by the lighting under the handrail and the fact that the colour palette is nearly all in the area of browns and beiges.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Staircase, Tate Modern, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fan vaulting, Peterborough Cathedral

click photo to enlarge
On a recent visit to Peterborough we made a brief visit to the cathedral. I've said elsewhere in this blog that it is one of the most overlooked and least well-known of our major medieval cathedrals, a building of exceptional architecture that deserves to be much more widely recognised.

One of Peterborough's glories is the fan-vaulting of the retrochoir that is every bit as good as the more celebrated example at Gloucester. I've photographed and written about Peterborough's on more than one occasion on this blog, so I won't repeat myself here. On our recent visit the fall of the light and the visitors reminded me of the etchings and woodcuts of cathedral views popular in publications of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. These frequently show small, relatively insignificant people dwarfed by the enormous columns and arches. This effect is heightened by naves empty of seating, something that is seen only occasionally today. However, the retrochoir is usually seat-free, and though it is a smaller space with a lower roof, the visitors here reminded me of those early illustrations. It took a few shots, a few changes of position and a wait for people to populate the scene before I got the image I wanted.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Fan Vaulting, Peterborough Cathedral
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The essential compositional element

click photo to enlarge
Photographic compositions can be constructed in many ways, some orthodox and some not so usual. Down the years I have come to realise that some compositions depend on a single element to complete it or to connect the disparate parts. It can be a leaf, a reflected figure, an empty can, or a tiny group of people whose compositional significance outweighs their size.

On a recent walk by the River Witham in Boston, Lincolnshire, I took a couple of photographs of some old hulks, wooden boats of early twentieth century vintage that have been left to rot on the river banks, their mud-covered forms inundated daily by the tides and exposed at low water. I couldn't compose a satisfactory photograph of the complete boat that features in today's photograph but I liked the bow detail and thought that, together with the gull, it would make a composition. But, the space between the two elements was too great and, to my mind, the whole did not bind together satisfactorily. However, when I changed my position the gull's footprints leading to its position at the water's edge were more strongly emphasised and they created an essential element that, for me, made the composition work much better.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 52mm (104mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3
Image Stabilisation: On

Photography, rejection and composition

click photo to enlarge
A large part of photography involves rejection. I'm not thinking of the way your output may be received by others, though rejection by an audience figures with photographs just as much as it does in any artistic or craft undertaking. No, in this instance I'm thinking of the rejection of that which is not needed to tell the picture's story.

When I come to compose a photograph I find that my mind either concentrates on including the parts that I want, or, more frequently, focuses on eliminating those aspects that are not required so that I am left with only the desired elements. Rejection, it has always seemed to me is more important in photography than addition. In painting it is the other way round: the blank canvas is built into the final work by addition after addition.

However, there are times when, even though you've included all you want and rejected all that you don't want, there is a case for refining down further still. That's because, sometimes, a part is more expressive of the whole than is the whole itself.

It was that thought that came to mind when I was photographing Church Lane in Ledbury, Herefordshire, the other day. This narrow, medieval and later street, with the old church at the end, is a fine photographic subject. However, each time I looked at my shot of the cobbled alley, the timber-framed buildings and the stone tower and spire on the camera screen I was less than satisfied with the outcome. After pondering the matter for a while I decided that this was because the essence of what makes the view interesting wasn't coming through in the image. So, as I passed by the location the next day, I switched the focal length from 28mm to 100mm, walked well into the lane, and concentrated my attention on the upper part of some near buildings and just part of the culminating tower and spire. The outcome is more agreeable to me than the wider (though still narrow) vista, though I'm sure there will be those who don't agree with that judgement.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Trees and louvres, More London

click photo to enlarge
When photographers use the word "contrast" they usually mean a marked difference between dark and light areas in a photograph. In black and white photography this can be achieved by seeking out compositions that naturally feature areas that are white or almost so as well as very dark or black areas. Another means of increasing contrast in this type of photography is to use a red, orange or yellow filter. In wet photography, of course, it can also be introduced during enlarging and developing too by techniques such as "burning" and "dodging". Contrast in the light/dark sense of is clearly possible in colour photography too, not least by shooting against the light.

However, the word contrast can be used in a different way, to mean a clear and visible difference of character (rather than tone) between one part of the image and another. This photograph of two adjacent shrubs shows that sort of contrast, as do aspects of this shot of Southwold Pier, particularly where the name sits against the clear sky and the dark shadows of the railings overlay the concrete and wooden decking. Architects often make use of contrast (or counterpoint) particularly when they use the soft, irregular lines and textures of natural vegetation against the hard, sharp surfaces of their buildings. This photograph of the City of London Information Centre (near St Paul's cathedral) exemplifies what I mean. So too does today's photograph.

The shot shown above has little contrast in the light/dark sense, but plenty as a result of the ragged lines of the tree branches against the hard, straight lines of the  external louvre screening. The latter is used to moderate the solar gain affecting these buildings on the edge of More London. I've photographed details of these particular buildings before, but on a recent visit I stepped further back to capture the contrast that the architects had introduced into the composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

BBC, Hull

click photo to enlarge
As I've said before, I'm not a photographer of people.* That is to say, I'm not naturally drawn to making people the main subject of my photographs, though I do like to feature them as part of a composition for interest or scale. However, I detect signs that may be changing a little. Over the past couple of years I've deliberately taken several shots, some of which count among my favourites, where people are the main subject or where they share equal weight in a composition with another subject. Yesterday, in the city of Kingston upon Hull, I took another such photograph.

I was framing a shot of the building in which the BBC Studio Centre is located. The composition I wanted meant I needed to use a wide angle so the zoom was at 24mm. I had placed the building in the top part of the frame so that the verticals didn't converge and I composed knowing that I would crop the bottom off later. My position was close to the rounded corner of a building. As I raised the camera to my eye and pressed the shutter a woman came round the corner into my shot. When I reviewed the image I could see two things. Firstly, she'd unwittingly spoiled my photograph. But secondly, and most importantly, I could appreciate that a figure, better positioned, where she had appeared would make for an interesting composition. So, I adjusted my position, waited, then pressed the shutter at the appearance of the next person. In these "always available" days I suppose it was inevitable that person would have a phone clamped to their ear. But it was less likely that the clothing would be dark and stand out well against the background. So I was pleased with my shot, an example of developing an idea that presented itself to me, and a further step in my drift towards "people photography".

* except for family

photograph and text © T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Yorkshire Dales mist

click photo to enlarge
A few days in the Yorkshire Dales market town of Settle, the place where I was raised, held the prospect of not only seeing members of my family but also walking the hills and doing some photography. With that in mind I hoped for some calm weather with sun and cloud. However, I knew from long experience that Settle in October (or any other month!) frequently delivers rain. Being on the west side of England's main mountain range, receiving the full force of the moisture-laden prevailing south-westerlies how could it do otherwise? And, true to form, it rained. Often it was heavy and sustained; at other times heavy shower followed heavy shower with the briefest of interludes between. But, on one day it relented and a day of mainly sun and clouds was interrupted by only a single downpour. So we got a longish walk on "the tops" as the hills are known locally and I got some photographs.

In fact, the day we spent walking started with thick mist in the valley - a temperature inversion mist - and the summits above bathed in sunshine from a clear sky. The dramatic mist proved to be perfect for photography and produced some of my best shots, including today's. In fact, as we walked and snapped and talked and hauled ourselves up out of the Ribble valley onto the limestone and millstone grit heights it occurred to me that, as far as photography goes, the weather you get is often better than the weather you wish for. Perhaps that phrase will join my list of self-penned photographic aphorisms. It has so often been true for me that my best shots have been taken in weather that is "extreme" in one way or another, or is quite different from what is usually thought of as good photographic weather. I reflected further on this when we passed a bookshop in Settle. In the window were a few different volumes of photographs of the Yorkshire Dales. All had a cover that showed a well-known location photographed in sunshine with blue sky and white clouds. I took a few shots of that kind myself during our time in Settle, but the ones taken in the unanticipated and unwanted mist please me more.

The photograph above was taken near the start of our walk at a point when it looked like the mist would rapidly lift. In those circumstances an eye for any available images and rapid composition is needed. Here the two gates  in the drystone walls, the short lane, and the trees offered the best possibilities.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A shop and bull story

click photo to enlarge
Anyone who frequents photography websites cannot fail to have come across the oft repeated aphorism, "the best camera is the one you have with you." And, like most home-spun wisdom it contains an element of truth, for, if you come upon a potential photograph and are carrying even a modest camera you'll return home with an image. But, if you have the latest whizz-bang, high tech, zillion megapixel marvel at home but no camera with you then the potential image becomes like the fisherman's "one that got away": a photograph that was missed but which becomes ever more marvellous in every re-telling of the tale.

It's no surprise therefore that as well as selling DSLR cameras most manufacturers market one or more "enthusiast" or "professional" compact cameras, one purpose of which is to accompany the enthusiast or pro when the main camera can't be available. My Lumix LX3 has fulfilled this role for a few years and it was with me on the morning that I took today's photograph. We weren't out on a photographic expedition but doing our weekly shopping. After a cup of coffee we set off through the market and came upon a lorry from which, under a canopy at the side, meat was being sold. The back of the trailer featured a beautifully executed trompe l'oeil image of a black bull in a wooden enclosure, standing there in all its imperious might, eyes fixed on the passing public. One of the best touches of the artwork was the metal shutters and catch at the top that made it look like the back had been rolled up. The photographic possibilities of this striking image were immediately obvious and I started taking shots, trying to include a person to the left, right or passing in front. I got several and we went on our way. But, after a few minutes I decided that a person standing in front and looking up at the bull might make a good composition so we went back and my wife became that person.

When I reviewed my shots on the computer at home it became obvious that the first shot I took was the best. Another aphorism (of my invention) had clearly come into play, namely that "usually the best shot that you take of a subject is either the first or second, and subsequent attempts rarely match up to these." This has been the case with me for a long time. Perhaps I've photographed sufficiently frequently for intuition, my subconscious or my accumulated experience over more than forty years picture taking, to enable me to see shots quickly. Whatever the reason it has happened often enough for me to notice the phenomenon, though clearly not enough for me to learn the lesson and desist after my initial exposures!

For a couple more of my trompe l'oeil photographs see here and here.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11.1mm (52mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Humber Bridge and dog walkers

click photo to enlarge
One thing that is very helpful when you are photographing in large spaces such as the seashore, by a big river, in open fields or in any other expanse, is a sense of the size or scale of the view. The same is true when your shot includes anything large or something that is difficult to visually "read" in a photograph: cliffs are a good example. Scale in this sense is an understanding of dimensions. Anyone familiar with photographs taken by geologists of rocks or embedded fossils will recognise the importance of the often included hammer or short ruler in helping the viewer to appreciate the size of what they are seeing. Those items don't have much use in general photography. However, there are many things that can offer a sense of scale where it is needed. In the past I've used a bench, a fence, a tree, cows, sheep and much else. Anything that is familiar to the viewer and which can therefore be used as a size indicator is all that is needed. Of course, the very best of indicators is the human figure. Place a person in a photograph and not only will he or she often be the initial point of interest for the viewer, they will immediately lend a sense of scale to the depicted scene.

Britain is known for being a nation of animal lovers. I count myself as one, though not in the sense that it is usually meant. My preference is not for the cats, dogs and the other kinds of domestic pets that are far too commonly found on these islands. As far as they are concerned I wish they were much fewer in number than is the case; a sentiment not widely shared or welcomed. My liking is for wildlife. The existence of animals that kill wildlife in very large numbers (cats) or are significant disturbers of the it (dogs) is something that I regret. But, I have to admit that there is a time when I find the presence of dogs and their owners useful, and that is as objects offering scale in my photographs. Today's shot does, I think, benefit from the dog walkers and their animal by the water's edge. Those small figures underline the enormous size of the Humber Bridge arching across the river above them. Take them away and the sense of the size of the engineering is substantially lessened and the force of the photograph diminished.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Megapixels and cropping

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How many megapixels does a photographer need? That question is as difficult and as pointless to answer precisely as, "Which is the best camera?" It all depends on your requirements in terms of image size and the type of photography you undertake.

If you sell photographs to print publications it's quite difficult to argue that you need more than 8 megapixels in a suitable camera with a good lens.. Why 8? Well, a 10 inches by 8inches photograph printed at 300dpi requires 7.2 megapixels. If you bear in mind that some magazines print at 240dpi and that most single page magazine images are less than 10X8, then 8 megapixels is clearly enough. (You'll have worked out that 5 megapixels is more than enough at 240dpi.) If, quite understandably, you want to allow for reasonable cropping then 12 megapixels is absolutely fine. If you aspire to cover the odd two page spread then 16 megapixels will do it comfortably. The number of megapixels that manufacturers offer us continues to increase, but as the above shows, unless you have a particular requirement to print large, then 8, 12 or 16 is plenty. Moreover, as print slowly gives way to screens in their many guises those numbers become significantly more generous and allow much heavier cropping.

If it isn't maximum detail in very large size prints that is used to justify high megapixel counts then it's the ability to crop and stillretain a large file. There are purists who scorn cropping, seeing virtue in composing using the camera's frame and sloppiness in composing after exposure by trimming bits off the four sides of the image. I have no qualms about cropping. I see no intrinsic worth in the offered aspect ratios of 3:2, 4:3, 1:1 or 16:9. I do have preferences, and some suit a particular subject - say portraiture - but generally speaking they all have their uses. But to find compositions in the world that perfectly fit these proportions is not always easy and can be an exercise in futility. So I think that cropping has its place.

Today's photograph is one that is double cropped. If I had a tilt-shift lens it would be only single cropped. The Broadway Theatre on Broadway in Peterborough is quite a large building, probably a former 1930s cinema, with a recent, rather good, big, glazed extension on the main elevation. Even standing on the opposite side of the road with my widest lens at 17mm I couldn't photograph it with the correct verticals that I wanted for an architectural interpretation of the building. So, I placed it in the frame with plenty of space around it and took my shot. Then I corrected the verticals and cropped the surround (smaller photo above). However, that composition wasn't as good - I think - as the further crop (main photo above) that gives greater emphasis to the people that I had deliberately included. My second crop changes the character of the photograph from architectural to a bit more of a "street" or "urban" shot, and makes an image that I like better. It's not the way a purist would shoot, but I see no problem with it. The original shot was 21 megapixels: the second crop took it to 15, and the final crop to 9 megapixels.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Visual ambiguity

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I've said elsewhere in this blog that visual ambiguity is something in which I take particular delight. Whether it be reflections, selections, juxtapositions or angles, the ability of the camera to present the everyday and ordinary as uncommon and extraordinary is something that holds a great attraction for me. The semi-abstract shots that I periodically take, many of which are visually ambiguous, make up a large percentage of my personal favourites.

Another way in which ambiguity can be achieved is through the use of a macro lens. This can transform a close-up view of a quite familiar subject into something strange or puzzling. Take today's photograph. At first glance it looks like a bubbling liquid, perhaps an industrial oil or maybe the scum on some molten metal. In fact, it is a long forgotten toy that belongs to one of my sons, a set of ball bearings of three sizes that can be arranged on a magnetic base. I came across it when we were tidying out some stored boxes. I'd not seen it before, but when I looked at it I knew that it could be the subject of a photograph.

I set it up on my desk at dusk on some black card and pointed my anglepoise lamp down at it. The single light source formed a large single reflection on each ball bearing, but this became multiplied as the bottom half of each of them reflected its neighbours. It's this phenomenon that gives the photograph the appearance of bubbles and the resulting ambiguity.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/10 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Churches past and present

click photo to enlarge

There's an old saying that "what we learn from history is that we don't learn from history." It's not hard to find examples in politics, public affairs, private lives, the design of man-made objects and much else that give weight to that somewhat cynical observation. But it's equally easy to point to examples that refute it.

I was thinking about this as I photographed the fine church of St Swithin at Bicker on a morning after snow had fallen during the night. I reflected that the few churches that are built today are much more modest than the buildings of a thousand, five hundred or even one hundred years ago. The Anglican church's desire to impress the populace and glorify God through a large, ornate structure made of expensive materials has moderated considerably in the light of the expense that parishes must expend to maintain old churches. Moreover, the buildings today need to be more flexible, and the traditional elements of nave, chancel, porch and tower don't meet the needs of a church that wishes to host a much wider range of events than just worship. So, yes, today's church buildings reflect the needs of our time and do not blindly follow the precedents of ages past. Of course, there are fewer modern churches - I can only think of half a dozen or so - that make such good photographic subjects as the one in today's image or indeed any of its ancient counterparts, so the church's gain is often the photographer's loss!

I've posted a few photographs of Bicker church before. It's one of the easier churchesto get a good shot of in my part of Lincolnshire. It's not too hemmed in by buildings or large or evergreen trees, at least on the south side which is the best for this kind of photography. However, it's an unusual church where there isn't something that intrudes that you wish wouldn't. From the south east it's the evergreen on the right of the image: from the south west it's the flagpole. The latter forces you to move your position slightly more west of south than you would choose because otherwise the slender upright gets mixed up with the tower and looks odd. However, on the day of this snow everything fell into place in terms of composition and so I got my shot.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

King's Lynn street view

click photo to enlarge

Strolling through King's Lynn in Norfolk a short while ago I came upon the scene above after walking almost the length of Queen Street. The low, yellow tinged winter sun was creating deep shadows and strongly highlighted areas and the limestone of the twin towers of the medieval church of St Margaret positively glowed. So I composed my photograph with the Romanesque and Gothic church framed by the mainly newer, C17, C18 and C19 brick buildings of the street.

When you take a photograph you are, in general terms, aware of what it contains. But, on the whole, the photographer's mind is fixed on the main things he or she wants to include and those objects that need to be omitted: but the smaller details are sometimes overlooked. I knew I'd have to crop out a white door on the left that would detract from the main subject. And I had to accept the distracting presence of the clutter of cars parked in Saturday Market Place next to the church. What I hadn't noticed, however, was the triangular traffic warning signs in the centre of the shot. They are obviously designed to be seen and in the shaft of sunlight coming from College Lane, with the deep shadow behind them, they shouted their presence. What's a photographer to do? I'm not one for removing objects so I toned them down until they could be seen for what they are but are less intrusive.

I photograph a lot of architecture and I find street signs, lamp posts, telegraph poles and wires, roof and wall mounted aerials and dishes, and parked cars, the bane of my life. They are so common that it's virtually impossible to exclude them from shots. Often they are not so noticeable and I can cope with them, but sometimes they cause me to lower my camera and walk on. Perhaps I'm overly sensitive about these things. But, sometimes I wonder at the planners and conservation officers who allow such things as the grey, utilitarian street light seen above the cars in this photograph: if they can specify "sympathetic" bollards for conservation areas such as this, why not more sensitively designed street lights?

Anyone with an interest in English architecture will have noted the stone Gothic (C15) doorway in the brick building on the right. This is Thoresby College, a building built c.1500 for thirteen chantry priests attached to the Trinity Guild. The elevation to Queen Street has three such doors, one with its original wooden door still in use. The rebuilding of the two main storeys dates from the late C18, but, interestingly, the "Dutch" style dormers are earlier.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Juxtaposition

click photo to enlarge

Photographic composition can be approached in a number of ways. One that I like, and which I don't use enough since I moved to a rural location - is juxtaposition, the conscious placing of disparate objects in the frame.

This technique is one that comes easily to painters, but is slightly more difficult for photographers. Firstly the juxtaposition has to be seen, then it has to be organised into a composition. Often this will mean excluding objects and the photographer changing position to bring the juxtaposed objects into  "engagement". It is a device that can work well where the objects are figurative, but also where the intention is to construct an image with semi-abstract elements.

The other day, when walking near "The Deep" aquarium in Kingston upon Hull, I noticed a building that I'd seen before but had never looked at. It is a blocky structure, clearly utliitarian, probably connected with its futuristic looking neighbour, and has a mosaic-like decoration on its main facade. It wasn't just the building that caught my eye, however, but the building and the car park arrow on the tarmac in front of me. I framed my shot so that the ranks of parked vehicles to left and right were excluded, and let the juxtaposition of the arrow, the horizontal bands and the colourful grid work together in my composition.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 65mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographic composition - some thoughts and ideas

click photo to enlarge

There is a craving amongst photographers to "learn the rules of composition". This is quite understandable because composition is crucial to constructing a good image. However, composition isn't a list of tricks, it is a way of seeing. John Ruskin has a couple of memorable lines on the teaching of composition. He was speaking in relation to architecture and painting, but what he said clearly applies to photography too. His first remark that I recall is, "If a man can compose at all, he can compose at once, or rather he must compose in spite of himself." In other words, a trained eye or a someone who is driven to create art does it without thinking. He added, "It is impossible to give you rules that will enable you to compose. If it were possible to compose pictures by rule Titian and Veronese would be ordinary men." Alexander Pope, in his poem "Windsor Forest", described landscape composition most succinctly and what he said applies to photography too: "Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree."

Desirable though it may be, it is unrealistic to expect the average photographer to immerse himself in Venetian painting, art theory, and poetry in order to master composition. Consequently writers on photography frequently list compositional "dos and donts". Here are a few that I have come across over the years. Most of them are helpful, especially to someone starting out in photography. They are in no particular order, and clearly there is no suggestion that a composition should include all of these devices. Rather the list is an aide-memoire, or a menu from which to select.

• The rule of thirds (the only compositional tip that many photographers remember!), whereby the subject is "best" placed at an intersection of two vertical and two horizontal lines, that divide the picture into thirds.
• Give the image visual balance about an imaginary centre line, always remembering that it is not the size of an object that determines its visual weight. In a landscape, for example, a person can be as "heavy" as a tree, a red object invariably has more weight than one that is brown, etc.
• Choose a rigidly symmetrical composition only when the subject suggests it or is itself symmetrical.
• Balanced asymmetry should be the usual aim because it offers the viewer more interest.
• Have a single main subject, thereby telling only one story in the photograph.
• Introduce contrast (dark/light, rough/smooth, near/far, in focus/blurred etc.) to give variety and interest.
• Introduce repetition of forms to give a rhythm (a line of columns, a row of trees, fence posts etc.), and consider breaking it with a person or some other intervening device.
• Give the composition a focal point in the sense of a principal area or climax...
• ... towards which leading lines (for example a road, railway track, fence, buiding facade etc.) will sometimes point.
• Look for cohesion in the composition so that every part relates to each other and supports the narrative that you are illustrating. 
• Introduce calm and stability with horizontals and verticals, dynamism with diagonals.
• Some say avoid horizontals, such as the horizon, at the centre of the composition because of the tendency for it to split the image into two parts. 
• Avoid large, empty areas in an image unless it is a device to emphasise an object.
• Avoid distractingly bright or strongly coloured areas away from the main subject.
• Consider framing the main subject with a naturally occurring object such as a tree branch, an arch, etc.
• Separate subject and background by, for example, lighting, colour, focus, etc.
• As well as left/right balance aim to have the bottom of the image heavier than the top: this feels more "right" to most people.
• People facing or moving into the frame usually works better than people "leaving" it.
• Objects and people usually need "breathing room" around them in the frame otherwise they look constricted.
• Many find an odd number of objects in a photograph works better than an even number (when the number is below 7 or thereabouts)
• Linked to the above, some say that a third element can make a simple composition more satisfying e.g. a vase of flowers (two elements) plus a few fallen petals (third element).

I suppose I could add to this list, or illustrate it, but that will have to do for now. The most important thing to remember about any advice concerning composition is it is just that - advice - and can be ignored to very good effect. There are fine photographs that flout each of the suggestions above, and many are equally good because they, knowingly or unknowingly, include them. The best advice about composition is this - if it looks right to you then it is right, because it's your photograph.

I was prompted to venture into this subject because I (unconsciously) included a third element in today's photograph. The distant boat is the one on the right of yesterday's photograph (which also has three elements!) I moved my position to include it in this image because it seemed to make it work better. Put your finger over it to decide whether you agree or not!

To prove my final point about rules being made to be ignored, here's a photograph that has compositional similarities to today's but has only two elements.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On