on composition

Some ten years after writing this thesis for my bachelors degree, it finally bugged me enough to translate it to
the more accessible language, partially because of this text's popularity among my friends at the time. Some of
these views aged better than others; the point is that I at least find both interesting enough. The biggest task was
to attempt removal of the adolescent (and croatian) mysticism, and to try explaining and bringing everything to
the ground, or at least daylight. Still, there is some heady stuff here at times, so feel free to contact me if you
feel teased, cheated, or taken for a ride.
The illustrations are left as they were: images that I just happened to have taken that year, without any intent for
this purpose, and therefore quite imprecise for it - but realistically practical, for the same reason. They could be
swapped by any 6 months output of mine, or perhaps by your work too.
My final hope is to continue these thoughts into a sequel composited of all that I've managed to gather in this
mentioned ten year period since. Of course, we'll see what happens...
predrag dubravcic

introduction
This work is a result of organizing and making some sense out of a pile of marginal notes - thoughts about the
image in the last 5 years or so. Even if it grounds itself in the composition of photographic image, its contents
are so undeniably abstract and general that they are applicable to almost all visual arts. Based on the so called
"pure photography" (formally minimalist, rejecting all of the semantic content not essential for the photographic
medium itself), the thought already starts on a quite abstract ground, and develops as an deductive organism,
dealing with final, absolute, rejecting any hypothesis. I still do hope to avoid the trap of becoming dogmatic even at the price of seemingly contradictory lines: sometimes a complex system of ideas does not translate well
to the linear language we speak. That's where formalism has to give up, just so that something gets to be written
at all. I am saying all this as an recommendation for the best reading approach: logic should, at least to some
degree, be left aside. Just the same as enjoying the images themselves, we should read this beyond our rational
comprehension, using those intuitive visual thoughts of ours which exist only before they get grabbed by the
prudence of our intellect. This is also a denial of fear that uneducated eye might miss something in here - it's all
about primary biological functions of first our senses, and then our spirit as well. Problems are of the opposite
nature (and that is somewhat sarcastic) - in deformations our senses and spirit experience through ill education,
deadening, pollution by some not quite natural usages. Therefore, it is much more likely, that every time we
embark on exploring the primary visual we'll have to throw something of our "knowledge" away, than to learn
anything radically new. It's all in our eye, already.

what is composition
This "non - traditional" composition tries to facilitate its full visual
potential: only the essential is present, in careful amounts. Positions inside
the frame correspond with emotional meanings of objects. Collectively,
forces form a mutual idea, laid deeply in the viewer's impression.

Relations among elements of a whole, if definition is what

we are after. Experience of that "whole" seems quite
possible, in summing up the impressions of watching, in our
case, an image. It is far harder to discern and describe the
"elements" and "relations" - which in fact is a direction of
this thought.
"Every visual presence is a visual influence". This compact
wisdom of Rudolf Arnheim wakes us up to the realization of
an extremely alive, organic mechanism of composition,
discouraging a clean-cut scientific approach. That is why the
best foundation for this has been offered by the Gestalt
psychology, which avoids former problem by explaining the
perceptory phenomena's through inner instincts of a human
psyche. One of the basic premises of Gestalt is that the
whole is more than just the sum of its components. That is
how we have to understand a composition of an image: as an
conglomerate of innumerable forces, many of which are
functioning subconsciously, some are hard to measure, and
most of them impossible to experimentally isolate. It is only
if all of them are acting in some mutual agreement that we
can speak of a good composition - or, if the bunch isn't
working together, a bad one. There is no (or at least no
more) such thing as a beautiful or ugly composition. That is generally an obsolete term which signified service
to traditional esthetic - this discipline in turn aimed towards resolving of all conflicts on already first formal
level (all in the unstoppable desire for eternity). The result was a premature death of almost all primary visual
components of the image. All this does not mean that the "new" composition unconditionally leaves all inner
conflicts unresolved, but rather that it values direct visual expressiveness before the tendency to serve
something flawlessly polished to the audience. We could ironically generalize that the traditional esthetic
positions itself towards death, and the new one towards life. However, that means missing the point: in fact, the
main difference is in the attempt of moving expressiveness into the levels essential for media itself. Insistence
on the active participation of viewer is caused by the need for him to employ his impressions which collect and
bridge the gap between formal "imperfection" and ideal perfection. This intent of finishing the work by the
absorption and anticipation in viewer's mind is the sign of a certain humanitarian renaissance which denies the
"astral" or "infinite" beauty of the art and makes it an work of a man for another man, where both are equally
important.
One of the most common attributes of a composition, which for now we will only theoretically introduce, and
later explain in examples, is the ambivalence of its elements. The principles of dialectics seem to be strong here:
a minute particle of the composition can often cause quite contrary effects. Which extreme will it be, depends of
course on the other elements, but also on the viewer position, which can easily fluctuate between the opposites
of empathy, and relation towards the image. All this isn't of much help when trying to sort the situation out. But
hey, it is actually very simple - elementary physics: every force in nature has its counter force, equal in strength,
but opposite by direction.
Judging from all this intentionally complicated insight, the object of our research is quite elusive. That's why it
is preferred to start from the abstract and general points - to avoid misinterpretations of examples and concrete
details which, naturally, always offer thousands of possible meanings and ways to take.

levels of abstraction
For the meaning here, it is important that the
cypresses be perceived as something infinite,
dark and powerful. This distortion of real
attributes was achieved by purely graphic
means: position in frame and in relation to
other elements; distribution of sharpness; and
tonality.

Every art form happens somewhere on

relation between the extremes of
complete reality and complete
abstraction. Those extremes non
inclusive, naturally, because in
perception of authentic reality there is
no artistic medium present (or at least
not that we would know...), while the
other end of absolute abstraction is the
stage PAST the art and perhaps
limited to medium alone (i.e. white
paper), and work is unrecognizable as
such. Everything in between those extremes is the interaction of medium (with all its specific attributes) and
what flows through it - reality. That's why the recognition of abstraction levels also means understanding of the
medium-specific attributes, necessary for our knowledge about it. The whole story begins with the old safe
question: "what is that we see in an image?". Let's stay with photography for a moment. The lowest level of
abstraction here is perception of an autonomous reality, "in which we are", but - it's all in the picture. Here
interferes an noteworthy remark by S. Sontag. She says that in photography, every realism becomes surrealism.
This, however, relates with secondary interpretation of something that was, despite the distance, primarily
perceived as reality.
From this point there is no one clear next step upwards. There are many: lack of movement (which photography
has taken care of to begin with), distortion of color, the limits of view (point and field of sight). But all these are
still at level where our visual imagination has a death grip on reconstruction of the supposed reality - while
perhaps getting more and more aware of the medium itself.
The first radical departure from this happens with the loss of spatial orientation, mainly by noting the frame and
two-dimensionality of an image. That's where the foundation is changing: what we are looking is no more a
reality; it's an image. The matter of objects is preserved, but they are removed from environment. If, going
further, material attributes disappear, two substitutions can happen: if we recognize the object, our knowledge
and experience will help perceive the wall as hard despite its wavy form. If not - we will make the physics up:
water may end up being a hard polished reflective plate. After this level, objects loose any material aspirations
and become some sort of metaphysical symbols, with attributes dictated by ideas of image and our emotions.
This is already very close to the point of (traditionally) "non - figurative art", let's call it graphic abstraction (i.e.
late Kandinsky). Since even here we can suppose that these forms may relate to a certain reality of imagination,
there is a step closer yet to the abstract: suprematism (i.e. late Malewitch) - the most abstract phenomenon
collected by the art history so far.
This whole path from real to abstract just described must not be confused with some kind of evolution, or any
order in time. Even though it nicely corresponds to the history of human eye, and its relation to every new art
form as they appeared and progressed, to understand it that way would be a discourse. What this rough attempt
really tried to do is cross scan all the levels that simultaneously exist in viewing of an image, and whose
unstable mixture forms the ground for all of our communication with that image.
On a completely different note, a concern prompts me to mention a whole another maze of ways in which our
meeting with an image takes place. Deeper and more complicated, it is composited from evocations of our
knowledge, memory, experience: the whole heritage of signs and symbols, personal and universal - but all very
subjective and unstable. This complex, let's call it contentual (i.e. content originated), we'll better ignore here:
its conceptual universality makes it non essential part of the visual media. It may just be useful thing to keep an
honest eye on when judging the mass of forces and influences in the practical examples.

how does the image work

Several elements here can create an impression of human face: we see two
pairs of eyes, between the smaller there is a nose cutting down across the
frame. But, this approach is not necessary, because resemblance isn't to
obvious. That is why the final feeling alternates between the empathy with
the constellation, and relation towards the "portrait". Which is here quite
welcome: the image aims to create a diffused, scattered feel, confused in
unfit environment, with unpleasant needs and concerns.

This question means trouble. To answer it would be to

define what an image actually is, or, even worse, to try to
define the art in general. However, none of this is impossible
- following an honest path towards what we feel is truth,
we'll often recognize a great deal of support for our thoughts
in what is inarticulately scattered about it throughout the
history. So, once over: what happens in the communication
with an image? The first, the most common, and the most
important phenomenon is EMPATHY, feeling what image
feels. "Give, empathize, rule" (datta, daya dvham, damyata shall we peak into Upanishads). We become the image and
feel everything it is. What truly happens is a resonance of
feeling/thought structures that we found (or create) in the
image, with the similar ones found in our subconsciousness.
All this happens on an synesthetic level (synesthetic
behavior being the phenomenon of taking an impression
from one sense and expressing it in other) -the point being
that in this aggregate state the ideas do not have concrete
forms, and can therefore come to expression in any different
shape - still carrying the same content. Just like the legendary and fascinative shock of deja - vu. (In fact, here is
(by the way) an explanation for the popular wonder.) Most directly, we may say that in the image we find a
synesthetic visualization of our own spiritual activities. The breadth of these is fascinating: as if we in deed
tapped into a flow that unifies all of our mind, and therefore builds the unity of our subconscious I *. For
example, the images of roundness help us recollect since they psychologically mean the whole. In the same
way, looking at ornaments helps the contemplation (just consider mandalas) because they are visually "solved" fluent, while the simple repetitive rhythm stimulates the flow without interruption (just as many people walk in
the circle while thinking). These are just some extreme examples, while some more common cases are readily
available. A sight of a down drawn lines of a weeping willow (sic! - the name) will cause some sorrow in us**.
Very often the empathy towards image is sprung by existence of a certain center which serves as a "symbol of a
man" - a center of us in the image, in relation with the rest of it. We recognize something as such center when
seeing a situation of figure in relation with the environment, or whenever there is one figure as a dominant
focus, or, especially, where the form itself suggests human or spiritual attributes.
The second main state of viewing an image is RELATION, towards it. Even if simpler and therefore primary, it
just doesn't reach in us as deeply as empathy - and opposite, we do not get as deeply and clearly into the image.
However, it must be that the state of relation is constantly (even if latently) present in every detail, as if ready to
offer the opposition to emphatic approach. It is a rational, natural state (let's not get into some readily available
gender siding) of clear definition: of us in relation to the other. That is why it is going to take over whenever
empathy is disabled - most simply, in the portrait of a person which is looking straight towards us. Not to create
a wrong impression: despite being so grounded in realism, it certainly is possible to have a relation with abstract
elements.
Sometimes conditions just promote the distance, as when looking at the landscape with a path leading into it.
This situation (possible even in more abstract levels) is called anthropocosmomorphism - we are in the
described space, and react accordingly, weather to the warmth of the summer breeze in the landscape, or by the
fear to the train rushing towards us from the screen, or to the strange cubic structure caving in on us (Vasarely).
We'll mention just one more specific case of relation, anthropomorphism - recognition of human features in the
image. That certainly covers portraits, but more interesting is the example of a house which windows remind us
of eyes. Recognizing the face pushes us immediately into a relation to "somebody else". Therefore image will
be funny if the poor face looks confused, but if by chance our comprehension ventures into identification with
it, we will feel, well, poorly. That's exactly how it works: not only sometimes, but mostly, empathy and relation
interweave dynamically ***.

Since results can be exclusive opposites, it would be wise, should an argument ever arise around an innocent
image, to refer to this little concept first for not only possible, but even probable help. Allow me just one more
example of influence the image can have: it is a motoric sensation, an impression of movement experienced by
perhaps the sight of lines that could be its trace. We should have a hard time trying to determine if this sensation
originates from empathy or relation: the impressions of us being the movement and us making it (or following
it, or observing it) are so similar - they are inseparable in the strange balance of opposites.
* - It is hard to resist smuggling in small print here how I feel that it is just this omnipresent and all - inclusive part of our being which
should be regarded as the essence, the meaning, and therefore also the absolute definition of art, or, even further, a philosophical Reason.
** - We are of course interested in all the levels of abstraction. Limited to reality, this approach is a stronghold of solipsistic philosophic
thought ("The world is my imagination" - Schopenhauer)
*** - Literature offers just too many spices to this already difficult correlation. Here is the motif - thought of Gaston Bachelard's "Poetry
of Space" - a nice ramp for return to empathy: "I am the space which I am in."

the frame
This image understands the frame as an end of
the world, and is destroyed if this approach
changes. (This is also an useful example to
check after reading a chapter on position of the
subject in the center of the image.)

In our mind a vision of heavy, baroque

monstrosity may immediately appear,
carved and gold leaved, thicker than
the picture width. Or the opposite: a
sure self negation, a scissor cut
photograph. Regardless of what we
envision when saying the word, frame
is of a primary significance. Not only
as one of the first steps in transforming
the reality, but, moreover, a first
element of the composition itself, its
beginning and end. Just as it is hard to
claim the existence of a composition
without some kind of frame - even an imaginary one - it is, on the other side, somewhat curiously possible to
talk about a composition consisting of the frame alone. If there is anything "divine" about the frame, it is surely
not some transcendent quality, but rather a simple fact that it fundamentally defines a function of everything
within its bounds. There are two basic conceptions of the frame in viewing of an image. The first in evolution,
which largely rejects the above executed glorification, happens in the time of first contacts with the medium when the only recognizable and trustworthy element remains the reality. This is frame as a WINDOW INTO
THE WORLD. Belonging to a phase of not yet absolved medium and general inclination towards the complete
illusion of reality, it tries to somewhat ignore the medium's existence. This tendency is mostly caused by the
content of the rational in approach (the idea of a "window" is easier to be noticed in adults than in children or
with primitive cultures), and, on the other side, by the degree of illusionistic perfection the medium is capable of
- the believability of the reality level that it can recreate. From this stems the extraordinary tendency of self concealment the film has (and even some forms of the theater!). Surely, this is mostly intentional, used, and
dealt with, but one may argue that by removing the attention from the medium itself we eliminate many of its
inherent expressive traits - mostly those higher up the evolution ladder. To sum it up, perception of the frame as
a window assumes that the image is a part of the larger whole, a part limited by necessity - imperfection - of a
frame. Looking for some examples, the painting has gone a long way in this view, but as a more obvious, purer
example, we may take the film, photography - any framed piece of what we know was larger - most likely, the
reality.
The frame perceived as an END OF THE WORLD is the second viewing approach. Seemingly higher in the
evolutionary order, it is indicatively found in the very beginnings of development, human race and individual
alike. The latter lack of this approach we can therefore attribute to some development, most likely towards the
importance of real and rational, which, for all our reasons, seems a mistake. This approach happens in the state
of an introvert intuition, when we measure everything by the model of our own psyche. An image for itself (and
for us even more...) is an idea, "inside" - not an objective reality "outside". An image is world as a whole, and its
borders are the borders of the world: behind, only nothingness exists. The connection of the image with its

frame is unbreakable; metaphysically, the idea as a world itself includes the existence of borders - in infinity.
That may serve as a best definition of frame in this conception. Whatever touches the frame, touches infinity; if
something crosses over, it crosses into nothingness.
The second cause of perceiving the frame as the end is an understanding and awareness of the medium attention towards the medium itself. This does not necessarily mean the loss of experience supplied by illusion,
since awareness is the key here, and should work to preserve that segment. It rather means an absorption,
anticipation of the medium, end of that stubborn ignorance which looks aside, just to clinch onto reality. This
particular awareness of the frame makes the foundation for the many elements of composition - directly, the
felling of every point within the image in an active, dynamic mutual relation with the frame. The indivisible
unity of frame with the image is a precondition for a health and strength of all the forces within the composition.
As if there is a way to lessen this contact, imagine some rotting tumorous tissue in that nonexisting space in
between the frame and the image, which causes the complete impurity and absence of strength: but here we are
talking metaphysics again, and not perception (that we can give examples for) - just in attempt to describe the
emotion contained in this relation. As for the examples of frame being the end of the world - image, we can find
them in the child drawings, most of the 20 century painting, pure photography, and even sometimes in film, in
the advanced use of static camera (Alain Tanner).
And just as another typical warning label, let me quickly note of the danger coming out in mixing of these two
conceptions of the frame - quite frequent in the works that balance between the dominance of the reality and the
medium: obviously, these are radical differences even in the simplest of details.

in the frame:
Here we intend to explain influences of the frame on an object within it. Moreover, all the forces acting upon an
object within the certain field of vision - the field of our image. While for the primary, orientational forces
(being left and right, and up and down) existence of frame isn't essential - it is sufficient to (self explanatory in
deed) have basic spatial orientation, all of the other forces are directly caused and determined by the frame
itself. Our illustrations try to assume the simplest possible "laboratory isolated" shape - a circle (presumably an
abstract denominator of every object's manifestation) in an empty horizontal frame, roughly proportioned by the
golden rule. The belief is that every example is applicable to any object in any other shape or proportion of the
frame. It only remains to be mentioned that in practical cases, instead of the clean and isolated influences, we'll
find a sum of different forces, often the contradictory ones, all around the very detail we are trying to figure out.
Besides, our visual memory is usually sufficient to install chaos even in a blank paper. That's why these "clean"
illustrations to follow need an equally innocent eye. From there, what follows is quite simple.

up and down
Even though the little window has the position of utmost height and
power, the claustrophobic feeling of closeness to the edge and being
squeezed by the remainder of the image turns the emotion towards
confinement, limitedness, and sorrow, despite its pride.

The only thing necessary for this grid of forces to appear is

some kind of decision or realization about what is "up" of
what we see, even if we are looking at an action painting laid
down on the floor. (It could be argued that floor is a natural
habitat for many of those, which they lost due to traditional
establishment of the wall.) This kind of work, just like some
structuralist images and many ornaments, does not contain
information about what is up and down. Therefore, the
"gravitational" order of our visual field is something
inherently subjective - not necessarily predetermined - it
emerges from our relation to the seen. Our eye will establish
this order no matter how we turn the image - and it is
possible that the composition will "function" in each case although it will for sure function in a significantly different
way.
Since the whole hierarchy is gravity based, the altitude of the
object within the image is directly connected with its
potential energy. That is why everything that is higher up
looks bigger and heavier, and the first impression of turning
a quiet and settled composition upside down is as if
everything is going to fall and tumble over each other.
The opposite is the role of a small bush bottom center. Having so much
space above, and attracted by the relations with the higher placed objects,
it shows a climbing tendency, even though it retains the power and weight
of the earth. (On the wall above is a painting of the bull's head.)

In this relation the characteristic of super- and inferiority is

very clearly stated. Our impressions about this order are
almost of an architectural nature: we see things leaning on
the others, weighting them, being built on them, coming out
of something, still supporting some others above, etc., which
is all obviously hierarchical. Ambivalence of these attributes
manifests itself accordingly: an object on the bottom can
offer an impression of rest, peace, emptiness, and
exhaustion. In the other context, it can radiate with ambition
towards all the space awaiting it above. These are literary
two opposite forces applied to the same spot. In need of
example, we can use a head of the person within a portrait.

left and right

Although massive, material and square - the
concrete block on left is perceived rather
intimately, and all its weight just as our
support. That way, closeness to the viewer is
achieved, an identification with the presented
space, regardless of it having an undesirable
overtone.

Most theories try to explain this

constellation of forces relative to the
education, more precisely the habits of
literacy. (This should therefore
indicate that the eastern cultures are
wielding an inverted set of meanings
for left and right, which hasn't quite
been believably proven at all.) It is my
belief that differentiation between
these sides is founded on some
physiological, or at least biological
reasons. No need to call upon the division of human brain to rational and intuitive quite yet. Still, I can clearly
recall some impressions from as far as early childhood that have witnessed to nicely defined attributes of two
sides. The memory of even the first and most innocent reactions to the concepts of sides always remembers the
right as something dark, solid and earthly, and the left as light, spiritual, and so much closer that the distance
was always more possible with the right, which could then be - handled. A bit of encouragement to this thinking
could be found in the linguistic observation of the words for right - always sinesthetically dark and solid
sounding, while the words for left have the opposite flavor - light and airy, impossible to catch, like a spirit
itself. As far as attention to the literacy is concerned, I'd rather try to argue that westerners therefore write "from
inside out" and easterners " from the outside inwards" - and this could be found in accord with the differences
between western and eastern thought itself. Seemingly, these contrary orientations are bound to introduce a
nightmare of ambivalent inputs. However, the opposite information is interpreted by equally opposite system (as
long as images stay within the area of origin...), so the end result is the same - mostly agreeing on differentiation
between the directions of inward and outward. So, even though a very "inductive" (as opposed to "deductive" of
the west) character, or the particular compositional organization can lead the currents inside the frame to flow
from right to left, a westerner's eye will still, in the vast majority of practical cases "read an image from left to
right" - recognize a constant flow of forces in that direction. That means that every object aiming left will look
as if resisting something, while the one aiming right will let itself go with the flow of the whole. Frequent
example can be seen in the image of the leaning square (pict. a) and b)): the square leaning right appears to be
"blown away".
Possibly the best example we can
found in car ads: to figure out the car
company's attitude, no need to go
further than the direction the vehicle
is pointed. Almost all airlines' logos
have planes going toward the right,
since nobody is silly enough to fly
"upwind". And probably the most
famous is question of the side Madonna holds the little Jesus on. Picture definitely unfolds from left to right and this doesn't necessarily indicate the path of our eye. This old-time favorite composition analysis tool is just
an unexistent materialization of the general structure of image, construction built by the all forces of the
composition.
Of course, the influence of "intuitive" and "rational" side of image doesn't stop at determining the general flow
direction. There is a very efficient mapping at stake here, down to the nuances of every point in between of the
two extremes, the left and right edge. Mapping sometimes so pronounced, that we can pull the line down the
center, clear as a border between night and day.
Just as we could check the effect of up - down orientation by turning the image (and so the all of our
accompanying illustrations) upside down, we can also view the same pictures using the mirror, or perhaps thru
the paper against the light. And all this so that it will never again be the same weather we want to flop an image
just for the sake of the layout, or not.

distance from the center

Locality of the hole here corresponds to the second described position.
The center still has the authority, but is humbly inclined towards bottom
(perhaps earthly) elements of the image.

The web of forces within a rectangular frame being a

twofold symmetrical affair, it is sufficient to follow the path
of an object to the edge in any given direction - the one
chosen for our illustrations is more or less arbitrary. On this
trajectory it is possible to clearly acknowledge ten
characteristic moments; four of these we will describe by
their relation to the center, and other six in relation to the
frame. This division has been made just to underline the
transition from "one orbit into another", where each half of
the travel appropriately defines its major ruling force. It is
obvious that this division in practice does not exist, and
belongs only to our analysis. The influences of center and
edge of the frame are simultaneous in every position.

Let's start from the beginning. Gestalt psychology can again be helpful, to
understand the symbiotic strength of the center and frame. One draws the
energy from the other.
Center as the focus of composition, being the simplest and most direct
placement of the object into frame, can be found in most of the primitive
cultures, or in the novice use of the camera - or even still on tv, given the
weaker authority of the small and oval frame. It is only thanks to bluescreen
images behind the announcer or some sidebar that this sometimes gets avoided.
The strict, dead center (fig. 1), taken with a bit more of semantic awareness,
floods with meanings. There is immediate hypnotic effect of remarkable
strength; this center rules all sides of the image, and everything rotates around
this navel of the world. This emotional impulse invites symbolism, and some
small thing in the center can impose its rule on the vast content of our memory
bank of images and meanings. This might be the right moment to mention the
pitiful abuse of central placement in the conceptual art, which trivializes it to a
cheap effect. I still do believe in the bright future of central position, based on a
very special transcendent feel, and the immediate reevaluation of the whole
space within image, which restructures the relations according to everything
orbiting around that center.
If the position on fig. 2 loses some of this supernatural air, it trades it for the
stronger ground in the natural. Let's call this an active center, since in many
ways we still perceive it as a center, albeit possessing a clear orientation,
longing towards the closest side.
Fig. 3 shows the center out of balance. This is a somewhat defeated position, of
something entirely stripped down of all the divine aspect, and in turn given the
earthly life, sincere ordinariness.
Every movement further, as on fig. 4, is perceived as suffering the strong
gravitation of center, trying to move it from the unstable position. This force
gets weaker with the increased distance from center: it becomes more and more
neutralized by the appearance of the other attraction, the one of the frame edge.

distance from the frame

This is just about the last described position, as
in fig. 10. We see only a small portion of the
window, which size is known from the other,
visible one. As the whole image drifts towards
relaxed and soft departure, the obscured
window retires into peace.

The relation towards frame is no less

loaded with metaphysical
connotations. Frame is described as
the edge and end of the world, the
infinity, behind which only nothing
exists. There is also a particular
importance the marginal objects have
when the center is empty, and more
about this will be said later. A delicate
nature of this relation is also revealed
by no less than four stages of contact
between object and frame alone - even
in this most abstract form.

Our falling ball, setting sun, abstract circle, was last seen right in the
equilibrium between the center and the frame, as in fig. 5. It is somewhat
surprising that nowhere before, at least to my knowledge, this simple
explanation of golden rule, or (this one is a bit rough) "the rule of thirds" in
composition, could be found. After all, we are talking about the paramount of
traditional aesthetic, on which quite some thought and paper have been spared.
This still and complacent position is characterized by comfort, eternal rest, lack
of yearning, and all that was already said about the classic philosophy of the
beautiful. (Even though sometimes even mathematics would be the more
appropriate choice of science.)
Moving ahead, we encounter a position inverse to fig. 4. The object in fig. 6 is
under gravitational force of the frame. The closer to the edge object is, the
stronger the gravity. Of course, as always, let's keep in mind the object's own
opposite force, since it is its fight that keeps it still on this page.
Fig. 7 shows the clean touch. The whole object is still visible, possessing the
magic of one which "went to the edge of the world and made it back" (and that
in one piece, too). What touches the infinite has transcendent powers, and that
is why this object has something sacred in it, like an altar.
On fig. 8 the frame has a bit firmer grip, resulting in great stability, and, for
most part, passive outlook. This form of contact depends on the particular
frame side we are anchored to, adopting it's properties.
Fig. 9 makes only a half of our object seen. Such strong division on "to be and
not to be", day and night, is a pure control of the opposites. It evokes all the
powers of symmetry, and so acquires some of the authority that image center
has.
If we see only a small part of the object, as in fig 10, the impression of mystery
will prevail. (We will talk about the relation between hidden and mystical
later.) It is known that the most of the object vanishes in the "eternal darkness".
Here, the object's power is derived from possession of that "darkness" and
"eternity", and it radiates it back into the image, from its far position on the
edge. If, on the other hand, this object is perceived as weak, this will be its
mean of retiring into eternity and reaching for those powers.

sides of the frame

The positions in this image overpower the impression of object's actual
appearance. The biggest mass seems as something heavenly mobile, "the
hand of god", while the frail flowers at the bottom achieve the seriousness
of a staid intelligence.

Elaborating the relations of object with different sides of the

frame is by large a synthesis of what was already said about
up and down and left and right, with the previous chapters
about the image's edge. The extremes of up and down can,
for our symbolic purposes, unmistakably be represented by
heaven and earth. Bottom edge of the image is a stabile,
solid border, suitable for support of the heaviest weight, and
the most appropriate foundation for something to sprout up
and grow out of. Top of the image, on the contrary, is a
labile phenomenon of rather spiritual matter. Left and right
sides have their best description in properties of left and
right within the image: intuitive and self-oriented versus
rational and turned outwards. All this is a good testimony
about asymmetry within the frame.
The above mentioned properties make the sides group in
pairs: and that is left and up, and right and down. These are,
therefore, the most opposite corners. (Of course, just to keep
our awareness balanced- whatever is valid for the contact
with a particular side, certainly is felt as an influence
throughout the surface of the image.) From all this follows
the difference in impression of a line coming out of a
particular side.
Particularly interesting is a line emerging from a corner (as a diagonal). The converging sides almost suggest a
perspective here, and it really seems one can go down a diagonal infinitely without ever reaching the frame. As
well, just because this is the farthest point ("of the world"), there is some mystical power, enhanced by the
sharpness of the vanishing point, "there, on the horizon". Comparing this with the line that comes out from the
side, where the cut is predominant and precise as a momentary transition into non-dimensional, line coming out
of the corner is preserved in all its length, beginning with the optical perception itself.

Fig.'s a), b) and c) show drastic difference in impression between something that is mechanically indeed
minimal change (such as the small camera movement in film and photography).
mutual influence of the objects
This is where we lose ground under our feet: the abundance of all that's possible within image sounds
threatening to a clear view attempted here. Not wanting to adopt guesswork as a tool, and realizing that any
analysis of such vast terrain (that surely exceeds interest of this text anyhow) would consume inadmissible
amounts of time and space, we will not undertake this task. It is highly probable that at least first steps for this
exploration can be found in "Art and Visual Perception" by Rudolf Arnheim, a book that I gladly recommend.
What we have to say on the issue is general (and our usual): do not underestimate the effect of objects within the
image. Thanks to elementary nature of many visual phenomena studied and described here, we can use those as
an alphabet in interpretation of more complex events such are mutual relations of objects inside the image;
which will at least suffice the exploratory interests of this text.

format
This image gains monumental firmness and
anchor in space and time from the horizontal
orientation, accented by the edge elements of
composition and the active empty surface on
the left.

For the sake of simplicity, we insofar

stuck to a rectangular horizontal
frame. Although this is the locked-in
form of some media (film), many
more do have a choice among not only
horizontal and vertical, but variously
proportioned at it, and even of
different shapes - of course. So, let's
(again) start with HORIZONTAL
format, that we deemed the most
neutral. However, in comparison, the
character does float out: the horizontal
format seems to almost unfold before
our eyes, in the interchangeable dimensions of both space and time.
There is a feeling of stability and reliability, of every thing being anchored in flows of space and time. This
works well in the images that intend to show, state, tell, or conclude something with utmost moderation, and
without rush. An appearance of discreet dignity exists. The influence of left and right is most pronounced here.
The serenity and impression that "all will come in its own time" contribute to the clarity of the subject.
Unlike the horizontal counterpart, this image happens in the single
moment of action and dynamic relation of the two elements.

Expect opposite from the VERTICAL format. Certain nondimensionality of space and time creates an impression of
everything happening in one point (of space and time). The
result is an extremely dynamic structure, where all is
happening in dimension of energies, forces. (No wonder this
is almost exclusive format I happened to find in portfolios
of New York photographers in early nineties.) The
aggressive character comes out of the necessity for super- or
inferiority of the elements, positioned above or below the
others. Most everything happens on relation up - down, with
all the traits of this orientation: with the tension between the
ground we fall onto, and heavens we long for. All these
characteristics are only amplified by the physiological fact
of our eye having a more horizontal field of view.
SQUARE format, rather than summing it all up, simply
sheds the attributes of horizontal and vertical altogether.
This neutrality can at times be of use, especially if
recognized and used as ambivalence, which is the most
popular reason for going square. Much less do we see this
format's potential for symmetry realized, with all hypnotic
and suggestive authority it carries forth.
EXTREME formats are in many ways just a more articulate
versions of their moderate ancestors. However, they do
inspire some original impressions. The extreme horizontal frame, found here and there in painting, and as a
standard in film (even though 1 : 2.35 is just barely wide to be called extreme), especially focuses onto a linear
course of events. These formats deconstruct the whole, translating it into a sort of one-dimensional world
(sometimes at the cinematographer's despair), so the influence of left and right is limited to relations between
the objects. In a pompous epic manner, this format was instantly recognized as perfect fit for historical
spectacles, narration in painting and similar subjects.
Extreme vertical format can be found in the far east drawings, and the turn of the century art (inspired by the
former). Its one-dimensionality is perceived as a spiritual simultaneousness of superior and inferior, or as a line

of causality, where the famous Art Nuveau/Seccesionistic "line of life" grows out from one thing into another.
Again, the influence of far sides (top and bottom here) is extinguished by the interrelation of objects within the
image - what remains is just an endless, general direction.
It is curious to note that such obvious ad first formal decision as the choice of format very much indicates
author's general psychological predisposition towards the media. A lot can be concluded from this simple
finding.

third dimension
Territory of this image is an equipoise of twoand three- dimensional, a plane and a space. A
certain perspective is welcome, but the excess
of it (brought mostly by the texture of ground)
distresses the coherency of frame.

This study explores the image mainly

in it's two dimensions - a lot of our
simplified examples do not have
neither need nor possibility for a third,
and stay within the world of plane.
Well, the third dimension, or rather
our experience of it within the image,
can arrive from two directions. One is
the presented reality itself, which is
being recognized as threedimensional. Obviously, this spatial
impression is direct product of the
amount of reality in the image - or the
abstraction level of our perception here, and owes nothing to the essential attributes of the visual medium itself.
The other source of "depth" can therefore be found in the capacity of specifically visual elements to convey the
spatial relations between the objects. We are talking about superposition, perspective and relation of sizes, color
and lightness, aerial perspective, sharpness, etc. It is arguable that here our experience plays equal part, since
our perception is trained to recognize this elements (abstracted from our experience of reality). Or, more
interesting, that some of these 3d triggers have physiological foundation, and we measure outside by the rules of
our own body. In any case, what's important is that this way we perceive the third dimension regardless of the
level of abstraction. This independence makes it able to sometimes contradict the experience of reality within
the image in figurative art, just as it makes it the sole source of depth in non-figurative visuals.
Except in the extreme cases of total illusion (where visual medium theoretically does not exist anyhow), the
image always impresses something of its two-dimensional nature. The experience of third dimension, if, and as
much as it is present, always mixes into this impression, and thereby influences the total effect of composition.
This interplay (or conflict) of two mostly autonomous views characterizes the objects within the image,
although psychologically it can have an overtone effect (of harmony or conflict, for example) by itself.
Additionally, three-dimensional in image invites the relation towards the space represented (as opposed to
identification): this happens because if we already have this perpendicular axis established, it is only a matter of
time just when are we going to hang ourselves onto the existing rod, as a foreground. Even though identification
is possible with the three-dimensional view, (if not for the metaphysical symbolism, than at least for sticking
with one of the elements within it), the relation often mixes in here. It is to be judged if this means a loss, and
which is the point when the third dimension turns from potentially dynamic into a destructive element of
composition.

sharpness
Almost the whole surface of this image lands somewhere around the
degree of "out of focus" - wanting to loose itself from the texture, material
and exact qualities, while still keeping the directions and ideas of the
presented. A tiny branch on top sets the sharpness standard, and also lifts
the whole construct to a keen dignity which in it couldn't have been
found.

Discussion and application of this term is directly related to

photography and film, or media that rely on the lens. In a
certain sense, we could push to include any threedimensional medium viewed by the human eye, since it is a
system of the same kind. However, our focusing happens
unconsciously, so we are not so likely to perceive the
unsharpness (this one not being so great anyhow, our eye's
focal length being some 21 mm, with the widest opening of
approximately f4). So, even though the idea of sharp and
unsharp could be known to us from behavior of our own
eye, it is still most commonly connected to the "camera
media". As a consequence of this perceptual experience, we
could find the analogous phenomena in other mediums, like
use of texture in painting to make what is represented more
or less present. The following description of stages of
(un)sharpness does not base itself on any absolute
measurement (which can be determined by the technical
resolution standard of a particular technique). We will (as
we commonly do) focus on the impression of sharpness,
which then practically of course corresponds with the
standards of the individual media (circle of confusion and depth of field in photography and film).
In this case, we identify with the closer sharp
object, which is so isolated, not even the
sharpness can give it a concrete presence. This
distribution of focus often alludes to the
isolation from the environment - reduced to a
bunch of "blurry ideas". If our foreground
would point downwards (lets flip the image for
a moment), the schizophrenic would be even
more intense.

So, at the very beginning one thing has

to be clearly summed up: there is no
division between "sharp" and
"unsharp" within an image. There is
only a degree of sharpness for every
object. Therefore, isolating some
particular degrees of sharpness may be
an arbitrary act, but still, we manage to
differentiate six characteristic stages.
Between each of those there are still
subtler shades of difference to be found (an educated eye of a photographer or a cinematographer will most
likely have those stored in its memory), so all this just confirms how influential, in this respect, is the choice of
lens and the aperture. Here we go...
TOO SHARP we will call the sharpness that exceeds our expectations and standards - perhaps set up by the
viewing so far. This is the "painfully sharp", or "trip sharp" - an almost irritable surprising intensity of sensory
perception likened to the effect of some stimulative drugs. Something is not real here, it is un- or sur- real, so it
is not reality that we experience, but rather something penetrant and omnipotent, as some unstoppable radiation.
SHARP is the upper boundary of our sharpness standard. It exemplifies all that sharpness means: something
real, concrete, material, available to our touch - present here and now. Obviously, this is more real than "too
sharp".

BARELY OUT OF FOCUS is something we can still claim to be sharp, even though a more meticulous
inspection will confirm it to be slightly "swimming" in there. This adds a touch of non material to the ground
level - or maybe lifts up that material to a bit more abstract realm by removing some of the texture. So, what
still is here is the descriptive ability, with some attributes of slight immateriality.
MODERATELY OUT OF FOCUS is the first impression that crosses that disputed crude sharp/unsharp
division. This is therefore perceived as unsharpness, even though still with all the shape of the subject
represented - it is just devoid of its material attributes such as texture and finer details. Remaining shape starts
suggesting that this thing is now not material, but rather an idea of itself, an essence of it.
OUT OF FOCUS is that abundantly documented impression within which wide mainstream we should be able
to differentiate and judge most of those "in between shades" - depending on the practical situation involved.
Being the representative of unsharp, it suggests the untouchable, diffused, immaterial, abstract and an idea.
COMPLETELY OUT OF FOCUS is that last frontier before the total blur - which isn't on this scale just because
for an impression of unsharp, we do have to have some imaginary "sharp" that was undone - which something
extremely blurred into a uniform surface would not have. Since even the shape of the presented is being lost
here, what we get out is more of an essence of the unsharpness itself, than the subject.
It is hard to build the image entirely out of the unsharp matter, because such an action immediately shifts the
sharpness standard, bringing us back to the start. Therefore, an image is most often composed in combination of
different degrees of sharpness. This brings us to an overall conclusion (step back a bit to see the whole thing):
sharpness is the qualitative separation agent in the image surface, molding the most direct tissue from which
something is made. Using that principle, it can be a refined introduction of third dimension - even before it
brings us to perceptual analogy of focus in space, and organizes that space accordingly - which means an idea of
third dimension without the realistic spatial concept. This is possible because sharpness essentially does not
depend on the concrete, so it doesn't eliminate higher abstraction levels.
Habitually, we are used to seeing very far things out of focus; then all of those within the "perception range"
sharp and real, and finally very close things, foreground, out of focus again. The last two distance groups also
have an uncanny connection with the ideas of right and left: it is interesting to apply those to our scale of
sharpness as well. As far as foreground goes, its intimate framing of the image feels like a part of us, essentially
"left" (foreground, in its true intimate function, can more often be found on the frame left...), while the major
action part is most commonly expected to be on the real, earthly distance, "within the reach of the right hand".
Declinations from the common sharpness distribution are meaningful - almost related to the psychological
anomalies. The sharp background with all the closer objects blurry makes those subconscious to a degree,
hidden by a veil, while the eye wanders detached into the distance. Opposite case of only the foreground being
sharp even more intently manipulates the focus: our little piece of sharp matter is completely isolated from the
environment, self-centered, and it is so close to us (and not only in space), that it is hard not to empathize.
The term of shallow and deep focus concerns exactly the range of the sharpness scale: shallow focus
encompasses a wider range and doing so amplifies all the effects of sharp and unsharp, while deep focus
narrows that scale towards the top, so everything has the attributes of sharp, and any separation or isolation (if at
all needed) is left to other resources.
Finally, it is obvious that the sharp part of the image is traditionally valued as the center of attention. Most of
our examples fit this model, which still doesn't mean it should have such an exclusive position. Just by
recognizing the qualities of each particular level of sharpness, it must become natural to understand each as a
valid specific way of presentation. From this, it is easy to accept the attention center detached from The
Sharpest within image. Those sharper elements in such case (still) serve other functions: they set the sharpness
standard by which it becomes apparent how much is something out of focus. Just the same, they can simply be
something that is, although marginal, best represented sharper than the main subject.

color and tone

The mood of this image is largely determined
by the tonality of wall and shadow. Both can
obviously be controlled by varying contrast and
brightness while enlarging. The darker
midtones here describe a gentle tired flow from
left to right, with the particular inclination
towards our small white spot.

We could start exploring the colors

and shades of gray in the same manner
we did with previous subjects - the
main question being in the relation of
a medium with reality it represents:
sorting out the combination of
similarities and differences between
the two usually makes one aware of
what is essential about the medium
itself. This procedure also yields an
estimated abstraction level
characteristic for the medium, so we'd end up reasoning how the color certainly brings up new creative
possibilities, but on the other side it lowers that abstraction level - making everything closer to reality.
That business being done, let's indulge in a far more satisfying comparison: of the perception of color vs. shape.
The sole act of perceiving a shape depends on an active approach, moving on the conscious and rational plane
(no matter where final effect takes place, mind you), and it has been attributed with masculinity. Perception of
color, on the other hand, has something feminine about it, as it happens in passive surrender, and even in the
first perceptual stages already communicates with our subconscious and intuitive. We have to stress again that
this concerns only the primary physiological facts - not much open for interpretation, so that an inclination
towards color does tell about the character of the person so inclined. From this observation, we have to realize
the possibility of endless and inspired flow of color descriptions which could result in an impractical quantity of
words, pages or even books: we are talking about a full spectrum of symbols with an unimaginable capacity.
However, a strict organization into essence is equally impossible (for the opposite, qualitative reason). So
trapped, let's just go for a little personal walk - from the "bottom" part of the spectrum.
Precise tonality is important because it determines the character of the
whole surface. It was necessary to be very cautious with just how dark
tones may be allowed on this wall, to preserve the feeling of sharp and
brittle delicacy (somewhat in the contradiction with the wall material
itself).

The pure red color, uncontaminated by yellow, has the

attributes of huge, but controlled energy in a static shape without apparent expansion or contraction, movement
towards or away from the eye. The borders of red object are
very strong, keeping the burning power in natural discipline.
Going ever so slightly towards yellow, thru the orange-red,
with the peak in reddish-orange, what happens is the barrage
of phenomena usually attributed to the warm part of a
spectrum. All of these colors are aggressively expanding and
moving towards the viewer, bathing us in radiance of
warmth with no much concern for anything, the least being
it's origin. This is the dispersion of extroversion. In the
analogy of shapes and colors (by Bauhaus), red is fitted with
the shape of circle; for the yellow, appropriate is the
triangle, the most dynamic shape, also suggesting the
division point. For in the cold, poor, gaunt yellow
(appearing a tad green), the beginning of cold spectrum can
be sensed. This whole part of spectrum towards the green
corresponds greatly with mental diseases, since the introvert
blue is disturbed by the neurotic content of yellow -

matching the internal conflicts of the burdened and hermetic mind. More we approach the blue, more that
neurosis becomes controlled. Blue is completely cold, peaceful and serene color, inspiring thought. "A
delightful nothing" (Goethe), blue concentrically retires into itself and away from us - into the concentration and
foundation. It responds to shape of a square, settled and stabile, and symbolizes the absolute introversion and
spiritual clarity. At the end of spectrum, in violet, a completely different energy can be found (oddly opposite to
green in the psychological sense), with a lot in common with magical and transcendent. This light but
penetrative color may owe its powers to connecting the ends - blue and red, being exactly an octave higher (of
double frequency) from red, and inheriting some of its mystical strength.
What I forgot to mention is how these (personal, did we say) walks have little exactness, if only because of the
incompatibility of language and color (just proves that result can only reach as far as free rambling). It is still
easier to write about the shape...
A quick answer will set the black and white image to be an opposite of color. However, that still doesn't free the
ground for the pure action of shapes. The scale of gray tones hides a surprising kinship with the color spectrum.
A lot of these similarities are quite subtle, so we can hardly notice much of contraction and expansion, or
especially appearance of intro- or extroversion; even the impressions of cold and warm are more contextual
here. However, the emotional effects of tones still depend on minute shade changes - sometimes a slightly
darker photograph feels entirely different. It wouldn't be possible to go through all these tones our eye (and
heart) differentiates, not only because of their number, but also because here, unlike with color spectrum where
we can refer to particular color and be universally recognized, we don't even have some conventions to use as
firm rungs of the ladder. For that reason, let's try just an overall description. Low tones appears to be inwardly
closed, shaded and fit for mystification. There is a feeling of an exhale, warmth, and greater weight in the
saturation with black. This ends in black, which hides its content, forcing us to imagine the worlds beneath its
unpenetrable solid, all in a vivid and clear impression of passive viewer, so characteristic for perception of
colors. Black feels like a silence after the music; white responds to a pause within it (Kandinsky).
In contrast, white is an extreme explicitness, like daylight, so high tones have the impression of an inhale, light
materiality with a certain fragility, accessibility, and, conditionally, coldness. As far as the movement towards
and away from the eye, there are contradictions: ambivalence is available for use - again depending on the
context. The idea of light's nature inspires the feeling of highlights approaching, shadows departing. This is in
contradiction with aerial perspective, where haze makes distance light, or with some other aspects of perceiving
tones (such as the tactility of dark and transcendence of light). Distinction between our subject and the
background will help set the direction in many practical cases (letters standing on a top of a white paper), even
though the dark image often seems "inset" into the white wall. The old cinematic rule that a light background
contributes to the feeling of depth has different grounds: it is because the background is coming forth that we
notice the spatial arrangement to begin with. Yin - Yang theory also fights against: it understands dark to be
active - we can only explain it as an illustration of its specific thought. There is definitely a contradictory
thinking going here at some wholesale prices. However, this is not the same dialectic the other mentioned
elements of composition carry within: these are simply impressions subtle enough to succumb to a variety of
outside influences and interpretations. Knowing those outside factors will help us clean up and get to the
meaning of tones themselves.

rhythm
The rhythm here isn't very obvious, but its
appearance is quite interesting. A very static
and strong image, anchored by the central
mass, gets the first stimulus by the right
window "jumping" away from branch on the
ground. The sliver of window in the upper right
amplifies that movement to the intensively
dynamic relation. Only then do we start to go
back connecting all the rhythmic elements
(similar and not) into almost theatrically ironic
mix of the two different image halves,
successfully keeping the eye bouncing around
like a ping pong ball.

It is just amazing with how much

vague generalization this term usually
gets applied to visual matter. Beyond
explainable, rhythm became a popular
term for expression of a whole load of
unarticulated feelings about the image
- while at the same time, the official definition frugally ends up as "(orderly) repetition of visual elements".
Now, the "orderly repeat" is only the simplest form, the lowest level still going as an idea of rhythm. In music
(which, in comparison, seems so structurally advanced), this would be called "a tempo", almost derogatively so,
like a metronome beat itself. We may just admit an inferiority of the eye here, and let the ear show us the way:
the complexity of rhythmic shapes only starts with gradations, alternations, variations and inversions, and goes
all the way to those which cannot be analytically subdued to any periodic model. What is important here for the
perception of rhythm is the feeling of that mentioned tempo. It seems that the help we need is a sort of
coordinate system: this is somewhat a condition (and an integral part) of the rhythm. Which means, if this isn't
quite a rhythm:
oo o o oo o o oo ooo o o, then this for sure is:
oo...o.o.oo.o...o.oo.ooo...o..o. As capable we are of seeing the surface of the image as a possible coordinate
system, that much more open we'll be towards the perception of complex rhythmical forms. The obvious
question is just where do we get the coordinate system? Well, where do we get the tempo of music before it
starts? No silence, and no white paper have it. We have to wait for the music to start and bring the idea of
tempo: at the same moment reading of rhythm begins. The visual elements of the image are the coordinates for
themselves, and their own rhythm. This also concludes that the whole idea of tempo is just an intermediate tool,
a derivative of rhythm itself - so let's by all means leave the metronome in the practice room.
Every visual presence causes the emergence of certain visual rhythm (is there any need at all to take a reserve
and limit this to "at least two" elements of any quality?). It is only to be expected for the simpler rhythms to be
more available - an easier read.
Beside simplicity, one more ingredient makes the rhythm obvious: its dynamic character. The real elements of
rhythm are not the actual shapes and colors in image as much as the visual forces these produce. All the
composition forces here mentioned are a part of this, which defines the rhythm as a direct product and a
manifestation of composition itself. Strong and obvious rhythm is an exhibition of strong forces which, well
phased, create an active stream of energy - perceived so clearly that is often taken as the essential axis of
composition.

active and passive space and plane in the image

This is a mild example of activation of the
surface by the mere opening towards up right.
Considering the simplicity of three elements,
this is easy to achieve. The result here ends up
as a certain spiritualization of small shapes by
the meaning attained through this "activation" which they share with the (decidedly material)
background surface.

Once upon a time, the masters of

composition were likened to skilled
packers: their actions were governed
by the imperative of the economical
and even filling of the frame with
whatever material was at the disposal.
As a depiction of human figure
become probably the first and simplest
introduction of an active subject, its
thoughts and intentions made for the
first discourse from the "economical rule". What happened there is what we call an active space, a part of the
image left unoccupied and available for potential action of the subject (physical and spiritual alike). Where we
do not expect action, lays significantly smaller amount of empty space within frame - this is the passive space.
Example for this is the framing of the human figure on the frame right, if it is looking towards frame left. What
happens, however, if there is no hero in the frame to rule about what is passive and active? It appears that the
opposite principle works as well: an accent on the empty space activates it. Let's imagine a film frame starting
with such a composition: it is immediately perceived that something will happen there, and maybe a moment
later, somebody trots in exactly from the expected direction. Now, exploring a bit further, remember the
moment of expectation? - what exactly would happen were nobody trotted in? O.k., let's just frame this moment
and hang it up on the wall, for this is a glorious clean sample of the active space. If we feel stronger for the two
dimensional, we may refer to it also as an active plane, or surface. So, what is actually an "activity" measure of
the image's surface? That old primitive tv expression "gimme a bit more room on the top" signifies truly a
bottom level of the passive - where the surface exists only as an shock absorber to settle and quiet the balance.
The activity of image's surface is the amount of potential events one physically/sensory empty part of the image
can accept, and therefore cause as well. By "event", we mean either simply material in the future (as in the
motion picture example), or a trajectory of sight and obviously possible action of the subject. Or - neither of the
above, which then means the activation by the exposure alone, within which space then unfold flows without the
material embodiment nor cause, from perceptual to purely ideal (remember the "synesthetic level"?). Only in the
emptiness the essence can be found (Lao - Tse).
Significantly different from the first rendering
of same subject, this image includes a tension
caused by the inability of our "relaxation" (feel
of the branches on right) to penetrate into the
exposed space on the left. The central authority
of the window makes the feeling of tensioned
fatigue pathetically eternal.

The eastern thought openly salutes

image which leaves room for abovesensory flows of impression; these
being a necessity in every image with
the more than just factually
informative ambition. One strategic
importance of such space inside image
is in the keeping of whole impression
within the frame - in a continuous
contact with its sensory origin. (Which
also helps against the degradation in
"free interpretations".) After all, this fits the idea of the image as a self-sufficient organic whole, a world of its
own. On the other side, keeping of the impression within the image also manages to include the observer, since

his experience, materially obviously not present in image, gets promoted into an active part of the composition.
Another words, we are the one who finishes the composition.
Psychologically concentric, the plane almost drafts us in, where in a sort of light sinking we may contemplate
on the image's content - seemingly forever. Also proving the importance of the edge elements which are,
obviously, true germs of anything that goes on in the center of plane (all of this is tightly connected to the ideas
presented in the "within the frame" chapter; it is a part of every example there).
Lastly, something maybe belonging to the top, in the definition of the active surface, should be said. This
surface is not something burdened with clumsy meanings and influences, which we either find or not and go
home free. It is simply a mean of expression composition has, sometimes subtle, but still - active.
While still having this context of thought, let's take a discourse into describing a function of mystical in image.
The reason being that the mystical is almost a "night version", unclear and impure, attractive and, most of all,
approachable variation of the communicative appeal we attribute to surface. It is easily depicted by something
hidden, which we see only a small part of. Unease created by the fear and respect towards the unknown mixes in
with the direct invitation for experience, and therefore the creation too, reconstruction of the unseen. What is
very similar to the space (surface) is the way we here have "a room for imagination" (although only on the
conceptual level). Obviously, in comparison, this is an amusement park version, active and inviting, while "the
day version" of surface requires activity on our part (isn't this also somewhat similar to perception of shapes vs.
colors?). Widely used as a spice, or vent, or "touch of magic" (or rather literary unknown), the element of
mystical has no problem admitting the limitations of the work which cannot include the whole experience
within and thus leaves room for the finishing touch of our imagination.

differences among the media

Size of the image is particularly important here, because of the relation of
two distant and equally important elements. The space between them
changes relative to the image size: from the right distance, it's shapeless
void will give the appropriate tension to the mentioned relation. That
same shapelessness will swallow the viewer if we enlarge the image, or,
for example, look at it with one eye from the 2" distance.

As a last step towards the concrete and practical, attention

devoted to this subject will help clear the way in the
everyday interpretation of the visual composition. 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, I guess in
regard to the importance of frame in 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.
Please excuse avoiding the tedious description of every
mentioned medium and its specifics. Media are in this
regard described mostly by the level of abstraction they use,
similarities and dissimilarities to the reality that they consist
of. Let's just try to address "whatever we haven't" - mostly
the context of our real contact with the medium. 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 even 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: I have to mention the fear I always had towards the arrangement of my works on the gallery walls;
there always seems to be only one right combination (which has to be found) - 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. All

this isn't such a quest if the objective is only a likable and aesthetic presentation, but it becomes just impossible
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 (here is another difference between film 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 a walk over a 1/2 mile enlargement: perception is down 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, so, add the accentuated movement, it is easy to
understand the front row addicts.
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. This does not mean advocating a illusion of reality
for the projected mediums, but rather an attempt for guarding the means of expression of the non-projected by
making them firmer to withstand "the darkness".
In such thinking, it becomes clear that video, so popular in its direct documentary realism, actually suffers
greatly in this exact attribute: surrounding surpresses the illusion, just as the small size and screen resolution
does; on the other side, the positive aspect of spatial orientation is wasted by the soft oval (now mostly gone) of
the frame, and imprecision of the displayed area of transmitted image. The low resolution and the pain of visible
line-texture inspire the abstract use (hence the appeal of video art), which is, unfortunately, hampered by the
ordinary commonness of the monitor, realism of the 60 fields per second movement, and the fact that we are
looking into a plain physic technical instrument - cathode ray tube. The sad reputation of video is mostly result
of this inherent contradictions.
It is by now also clear that we do not absolutely favor sharpness: this is a fundamental attribute of image, often
subconsciously perceived, and characteristically different among mediums. It is understood as a primary matter
out of which the images in medium are built, and so directly determines the workings of every compositional
element. The standard of sharpness is established not only by the technical limitations, but also by the
subjective average, physiological capacities, personal "taste" and demand of the viewer, and also his viewing
situation. Our described levels of sharpness are differently established in every medium, acquiring specific
properties. In this sense, the choice of negative format in motion picture is an early decision on the dominant
levels of abstraction, ways the expression will be carried out in the project.
The difference of b/w versus color image have been described elsewhere, although a reminder certainly belongs
to this chapter too.
What we didn't 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 such feeling: it will all too easy slip into a simple expectation
of change. The duration of the film take in relation to the amount of information present is a subject for a whole
book (which has been a published dissertation of my dear professor, unfortunately not translated to english).
There are many ratios between the two with categorically different effects - one may just extend observing this
influence onto composition as well.
Obviously, as we get closer to particular nuances of the mediums, we find more and more other works that have
described those in great detail. Stopping here, we will just refer the reader to the list of supporting literature, for
the further input.

evolution of the aesthetic standard

Not impressive in size, these two elements still
maintain a surprisingly dynamic composition.
In their shapes and positions they carry
initiative for the forces which then fill up the
whole remaining space - almost pushing to
break the frame, in the combination of several
opposites.

Exploring the progress of the image's

effect on us, we may observe that
gradations of our approach towards it
have a lot in common with the history
of "acceptance" of the given medium.
The easiest example is a relatively
new one - film, where we do have
testimonies of panic that stroke the
first viewers of "Train entering the
station" (Lumiere brothers), compared
to the familiarity we exhibit fluently
reading some of the most complex forms good directors use today. Our gradual understanding of the language
and particular nuances is noticeable in every medium. Historians bask in the availability of proofs that younger
mediums exploit the experience of the older ones, and therefore manage to traverse from the stages of wonder to
assimilation in much shorter time. The evolution at stake certainly involves the progression of the medium, but
it is still based on and lead by the progress of the recipient, the audience, the eye itself. This is why we post a
concept of an universal development of visual perception and thinking (that only gets recognized in
development of a new medium). It is obvious that we are not talking about the evolution anchored to the history
of human kind. We are aiming for an abstract development, present at least partially at every case of visual
evolving: something so inherent to our nature that it can rather be applied to than deducted from our history.
The description of this development's phases is strewn all around this text as well, especially where the analysis
of all ways of perception and usage of certain image's element is addressed. The fact that we are interested in the
compositional aspect of this evolution doesn't cut us short too much: it is exactly the composition that is the
essence and spine of this path.
Explicit symmetry of this image uses the center as an altar-like
foundation of absolute power. The points on each side have the symbolic
character of "alpha and omega", beginning and end of everything that is.
Not being the perfect - dead center, this constellation attracts many
terrestrial qualities, mostly by the weight placed on the bottom edge.
That's how we don't miss out on the sexual allusion as well: to
penetration, or, a bit more general, to a murky instinctual force.

In the abundance of picturesque examples, we may start

somewhere in the primitive human cave community, or the
the new born baby's first sight - or any situation where we
are brought to using our eyes in a completely different way
(such would be taking a camera in hand for a first time).
This is the moment where the simplest visual form is to
express the simplest (that would be the most general, too)
visual idea. In composition this amounts to basic symmetry,
unburdened by any external meaning - open in the
generalization, as the child's drawing should be.
After this, an exploration of aberrations follows, through
play of senses, again not immediately conscious of any
effect. This long and subconscious journey brings us to the
era most beautifully embodied in the ancient greek culture,
where the mentioned subconscious visual (e)merges with
the conscious, all in purpose of serving the ideals of eternal,
astral, and so absolute that it survived attempts to be
explained by the mathematics. The cult of proportions is
called "the golden rule". This is a level where our famous

frame can be ushered, although not yet essential, and only partially effective. Sadly enough, there are too many
real developments which stop at this level (the appeal of rational perfection cannot be overestimated). However,
as much as we want to exclusively and dogmatically accept the absolute of golden rule, we must notice the
discourses in history (after the ancient period), that appear as a natural continuation of the visual aesthetic
development, although without such sleek established shape the golden rule has.
The significance of frame is increasing, and its first conscious application brings it to a function of a window (in
renaissance), from where it gradually again becomes an end of the image - this time consciously. The basic
ingredient composition gains in baroque (even though this vector is present throughout the whole evolution) is a
inclination towards dynamization of the whole structure. This is all still happening under the pretense of the
golden rule, but a whole bestiary of forces and tensions blooms there: slanted line (or a diagonal) becomes a
favorite direction of forces, counterpoint and polarities are loved, the corners of the image are utilized, and the
balance is found using long levers. The frame is readily accepted as an end of the world - even more so since
right behind is the beloved infinity.
History here elects to take a break, retiring for the moment in the forms of classicism, even though the major
direction away from the "perfect proportions" is not to be abandoned, and eventually flourishes hidden under the
intentional disarray and sensationalism of 20th century movements. The image does not include itself
completely, but counts on the finishing touch of an active perception (as described in the chapter about space
and surface of the image): what has been won is a certain "right" to imperfection: composition leans more
towards the higher, interpretational structure of forces, different from the one factually present. Interaction of
compositional forces with the frame intensifies - all up to the "penetration" of frame. There is a lot of play (use)
with ambivalence of levels or simply ways of perception, in all formal and conceptual aspects. This festivity of
derangement naturally leads itself into the compression of the multitude of elements, into the unfinishedness,
and collapse of any visual conception. Most precisely described as chaos, this is also the time of release - the
violence of forces, thanks to its own multitude, seems to have a neutralizing effect on itself. The product is the
blissful feeling of a whole, an all-encompassing universe. Embodiments of this are found in different places in
the 20th century art, in some gestures of enformel, sometimes even in the action painting, or in some strange
results of structuralism.
Chaos by its nature tends to be final stop - every of the mentioned examples either bounced back onto previous,
or found itself lost, in need of a new beginning. Therefore, to voice out what's next, is a silly bravery, or a
prophecy. Well, if intuition has a right of speech here (and it must've earned it by this page), then the following
could be sensed as a crystallization of the center amidst the chaotic and shapeless lively conglomerate. The
center which retains all the weighted meaning of the fore said chaos, the whole of the image, and the history of
the image. Some of this reverie towards the center was described within "in the frame" chapter. Even though a
complete realization of this sensibility cannot be found out there yet, in today's art a certain altar-like symmetry
is common, suggesting the importance of center. So, even without the easily uploaded symbolism, let's just say
that, in the time to come, on the way to be walked, or just as waiting on the edge of our conscious - our visual
aesthetic, or more precisely the composition, will have a notable relation with the center of image. At this
moment, this idea of composition seems to be the farthest reach of our visual intuition.
New York, 1/14 - 2/22/1990

bibliography
(Whenever existing, the english translation has been given.)
Rudolf Arnheim:

Art and Visual Perception

Visual Thinking
Film as Art

Maurice Merlau-Ponty:

Phenomenology of perception

Susan Sontag:

On Photography

Immanuel Kant:

Razmatranja o osjecanju lijepog i uzvisenog (Beobachtungen uber das Gefuhl

des Schonen und Erhabenen)

Johannes Itten:

The Art of Color

Paul Valery:

Essays

Vera Horvat-Pintaric:

Od kica do vjecnosti

Herbert Read:

The Meaning of Art

Art Now

Vassily Kandinsky:

Concerning the Spiritual in Art

Peter Wollen:

Signs and Meaning in the Cinema

Ante Peterlic:

Pojam i struktura filmskog vremena

Osnove teorije filmske umjetnosti

Nikola Tanhofer:

Filmska Fotografija

Nikola Despot:

Svjetlost i sjena

Horst Woldemar Janson:

History of art

Jean Chevalier:

Dictionary of Symbols (introduction)