So, yes, I’ve been travelin’, man….but that’s not what this blog post is about. I want to talk about composition, which all generally boils down to how the eye travels through an image. (Summer, thanks very much for your note—for some reason it hadn’t occurred to me to blog about this until I read your message the other day.)

Most of us have had compositional “rules” drilled into our heads along with some theoretical reasons why they should be followed. I’m sure you can recite them with me: the rules of thirds, eyes should be in the upper third of the frame, don’t crop at the joint, if it bends bend it, use diagonals, don’t put the horizon line through the subject’s head, etc. There are dozens of them. What it comes down to, though, is creating emotional impact and keeping the viewers attention.

Rather than learning, relying on, and consciously breaking those rules, I prefer to think of composition in terms of how the viewer’s eye moves through the image. The best way to explain this is with examples.

Mama and the twins

It would be a little difficult to add a lot of the traditional rules of composition to this image. It’s pretty geometric, and yet it manages to stay dynamic. In this image, my eye is first attracted to Mama’s face and the great expression. Then my eye is drawn up her arm, up the girl’s arm to her hair. It then follows the line of her body over to her sister (and that impish grin), then down her body, which brings me back to Mama’s body line and back up to her face. Because the lines lead me through the image, I’ve spent more time looking at it than I would have otherwise.

cat girl

Even though this image is pretty close up, the eye still needs to travel to prevent it from being forgettable. (Pardon the scan; it’s an older image.) My attention is grabbed first by those amazing eyes, which is exactly as it should be. I then follow the line of her hair on the right down to her hand, down her arm, around the cat and up the arm to the shoulder, and right back around to the eyes, where we started. Because of the lines created by this composition, I’ve inadvertently adhered to some basic portrait rules (eyes in the upper third, eyes positioned on a third, bent arms, etc). Although I’ve cropped into her hand, I’ve kept enough of it to keep the eye moving, which makes it much less of an issue than it would have been otherwise.

Bumblebee and the Dictator

Meet my friend Bumblebee and his daughter, the Dictator. They have a great relationship, and it shows here. My eye goes immediately to her face, then travels up her arm to his face, down her other arm, down his arm to her shirt, then right back up to her face. To illustrate my point, here’s a tighter crop, where all the major elements are left, but the line of Bumblebee’s arm is interrupted. It allows the viewer’s eye to wander straight out of the frame, never coming full circle.

bad crop

Now, as with all compositional guidelines, this doesn’t mean that an image that doesn’t follow suit is necessarily weak. The composition, like all the other elements of photographic technique, has to support the mood and the message of the image. Just remember that the goal is to create an image that keep the viewer’s attention and sticks in their memory.

– CJ

So here they are, then….

bad scan, good jump

…and now.

Up!

I really believe anticipation is one of the most under-appreciated qualities in a photographer. These days, timing seems to have become largely of spray-and-pray with cameras that shoot a hundred images per second. It’s easy to fall into the mentality that if you shoot continuously, one of the shots will catch the height of the action. Actually, it’s not always the case.

One of the biggest breakthroughs for me as I was developing my technique was the move from 35mm to medium format. At first it was incredibly frustrating, only having one shot before having to bring the camera down from my eye and wind it; manual focus was even more difficult. Once I forced myself to adjust, however, I found that my sense of anticipation grew exponentially. I had to be able to anticipate the moment, because I would only get one shot at it.

The keen sense of anticipation also means a greater ability to create a bond with your subjects. How? Well, shooting continuously means constantly having the camera in front of your face. It’s hard to feel a strong connection with a faceless person. Being prepared to catch the moment means putting the camera to your eye when there’s a reason to, allowing you to put your subjects more at ease.

On the practical side, learning to anticipate your shots means not having to slog through seventeen nearly identical images to find the one you were after in the first place.

Here are a few examples from my “Life Backstage” project, where the low light conditions make anticipation even more critical.

Warren, warming up

Hat on the way up

The shocking Miss Spankings

Reid juggles

Lolo Flamingo

Pierre scolds, Midnite ignores

I could post this stuff all day long, but I’ll try to limit myself.

Enjoy!

– CJ

Tully, my newest canine child

Apollo, may he rest in peace

One eye each

Betty the boo-dog

Piper, my oldest dog, seven years ago

Gus and his girl

I’ve always had a wonderful time with my London clients, and I think it’s such a great experience working outside of my usual element. For all the differences in culture I experience while traveling, it’s fun to be reminded that people are pretty much the same everywhere, in a good way.

My schedule is still somewhat flexible except for the evening of October 5 through the evening of the 7th, as I’ll be teaching a workshop during those days. If you’re a photographer interested in attending the workshop, there are still just a few openings available. I would love to meet you. Please check for the details.

This shot has nothing to do with the UK. Just an old favorite I'd forgotten about.

It’s a fun question to ponder. I’d jump off a building. Do a double back flip. Gamble with the high rollers in Vegas. Wrestle an alligator. Audition for American Idol. (That was a joke.) Then the thought crossed my mind that “fail” has many different meanings. One can be an un-failure at jumping off a building and still be flattened on the landing. You can “win” in a wrestling match with an alligator and still lose a limb or two.

Anyway.

What is failure, where photography is concerned? Is it missing an exposure, missing a moment? Is it falling into a creative rut? Not meeting the client’s expectations? Shoot long enough, and you’ll experience all these things and more, probably sooner rather than later.

In reality, there’s no more effective way to learn than to fail, and to do it well. Every artist should risk failure on a regular basis. And since you don’t really want to do it on a client’s dime and time, that means having regular, on-going personal projects.

For some reason, as soon as we photographers start trading photographs for dollars, we seem to stop shooting personal projects. The reasons (excuses?) usually fall along the lines of being too busy, having family obligations, needing to put work first over “fun.” It’s as if shooting for for our ourselves is massages and caviar: a nice luxury, but who can afford them?

Here’s the problem. If you don’t take risks and explore/fail/learn on your own time, you’ll eventually either 1) produce stale, uninspired, “safe” work, or 2) fail on your clients’ time. Neither of those sounds like fun to me. We have to give ourselves opportunities to explore and expand without dollar signs attached.

I’m a firm believer that every photographer should have at least one meaningful, challenging self-assignment in progress at all times. Musicians don’t only play when they’re on stage; photographers shouldn’t only shoot when there’s a client. Call it “practice” if you’d like.

If you’re too busy to shoot for your own growth and joy, then you are too busy.

Let’s make time for “failure” and commit to a personal project that requires heart, soul, and a few alligators. Find a theme, a self-assignment, something near and dear to you. Stick with it. Pursue it and explore the range of possibility. Shoot outside your comfort zone. Enjoy the freedom of knowing nobody but you will give a damn if the images work.

What would I do if I knew I could not fail? Be bored out of my mind, probably.

– CJ