Learning Photography Course — 7. Composition and Seeing

Module 7 of the Learning Photography Course. Every module before this one was about machinery. This one has almost no machinery in it, and it decides whether any of the rest was worth carrying.

Composition is not decoration applied to a photograph. It is the arrangement of what is inside a rectangle and — just as much — the decision about what is left outside it. That second half is the part beginners skip: raising a camera is choosing what to EXCLUDE, because everything else in the world is also in front of you. So the first compositional decision, before framing and before the thirds, is where the edge goes. One step forward and a bin leaves the frame. Neither of those is a technique; both are the entire job.

Then the warning that governs the module: the rules of composition are descriptions, not instructions. They were arrived at backwards — somebody looked at pictures that worked and wrote down what they had in common. That is a useful shortcut to what has often worked before. It is not a law, and a picture does not become good by obeying it.

The rule of thirds, and what it is actually describing. Its usual attribution to John Thomas Smith in 1797 — four decades before photography — given as the received account rather than as something this course has verified in the original.

And the golden ratio, handled honestly. The number is real and mathematically interesting; the historical claims about the Parthenon, the Great Pyramid and Leonardo are contested, and contested more sharply than the way they are usually taught would suggest. George Markowsky's 1992 paper for the Mathematical Association of America goes through eight of these claims, and his central objection travels far beyond this argument: a building offers a very large number of things to measure, and somebody looking for a particular ratio will find it somewhere. His critics do not accept that, and the module says so. Even Fechner's preference experiments of the 1860s are reported two incompatible ways, which is a reason to be careful rather than a reason to pick the version you prefer.

Centring, rescued from the same received wisdom. Line, and why a leading line leads — attention follows continuity, and a line points whether or not you chose where. Horizon placement. Converging verticals, which are perspective doing exactly what it does rather than a fault in the lens.

Pattern, and why a perfect one is decorative: it has nothing to resolve. Negative space, and the test of whether the emptiness is doing work. Depth, built from overlap, relative scale and atmospheric haze — which is why a photograph taken on a very clear day can look flatter than one taken in slight haze.

Visual weight, in measured order: faces first and not close, then contrast, then saturation, then sharpness, and finally size — which matters less than people assume. Colour as a compositional element rather than a property of the subject, and why restricting the palette is subtractive and usually done with your feet rather than in editing.

Then simplifying: get closer means move your feet, not use a longer lens; change height, which is the cheapest and least used control in photography; and wait, which is barely ever taught as a compositional technique and is how a large fraction of good photographs are actually made.

And finally the distinction the whole module is for: a photograph OF a thing, and a photograph ABOUT something.

Educational documentary. Not financial or investment advice.