Patterns

I don’t know much about geometry but I do know an aesthetically pleasing photograph when I see one.

In fact most of us can, and the reason is geometry, or more precisely the geometric shapes such as squares, triangles, circles and lines that make up patterns that form the image.

Our brains are hardwired to see patterns in all sort of ways not just in photographs but in our everyday lives in the events that happen around us. It could be that our ability to recognise patterns in the real world kept us alive when we were hunters and, sometimes, the hunted. Learning to recognise that the sound of the bushes rustling was often followed by a large predatory beast looking for its lunch helped keep early humans alive.

Patterns also appear in data, and being able to recognise those patterns can help us solve a problem with the data. Once we have broken it down into individual patterns it makes it easier to solve, and quicker to do so next time.

Patterns also help us make sense of the world, bringing order out of chaos. Without patterns there would be anarchy. Of course there are occasions when we see patterns even if they don’t exist. It is attempts to make sense out of random events that can lead to conspiracy theories.

When we come to photographs patterns are the building blocks; they can be shapes, textures, shadows. They can create a sense of balance or rhythm through reptition or symmetry. Alternatively, breaking the pattern up can create tension in the photograph.

Here are a few examples of my own work which in different ways display examples of patterns.


Shapes

Shapes

This photograph of a wooden fence is made up of a series of shapes, circles, rectangles, a hexagon and a horseshoe(!)

It is also worth pointing out that in this, and in all the other images below, there is an extra shape; the square or rectangular border of the image itself. When thinking about shapes, it’s worth considering that as part of the composition.


Circles

Circle

A very obvious shape is a circle such as this shadow of a garden table. Interestingly we cannot actually see the entire circle because it is broken by the leg of the chair. Our minds however still perceive the complete circle, making up the messing part. The chair adds a degree of interest to the photograph, breaking up the shape. It would be a very much less interesting photograph if it were just the circle.


Lines

Lines

Patterns work well when they are repeated such as in the black lines of these railings in the foreground. A repetitive pattern can be a bit boring, though. Adding a contrasting element can make it a bit more interesting. In this example the softer shape of the plant, creates a juxtaposition between its more amorphous structure and the strong lines of the fence.


Shadows

Shadows

We can see patterns in many forms and different types of photographs. In this example of street photography the shadows cause a striking pattern but you also have the bench and the drain cover in the foreground, creating a wide range of geometric shapes across the picture.

On this day 6th February

Today’s photograph was taken on the 6th February 2016, riding the top deck of a bus on a rainy evening. It’s a composite image and I love how it almost looks like a stained glass window!

On this day 27th January

During the current lockdown in England in response to Covid 19 I am not able to go very far to take photographs so I am having a hunt through my back catalogue to see what I did on this day in a previous year.

Here’s today’s example, taken on the 27th January 2019 and shows a detail of St Nicholas Hall, Hertford, Hertfordshire. It was once a church hall but more recently an antiques shop. When I took the photograph two years ago it stood empty and I believe it still does.

On this day 25th January

Another in my occasional series of photographs taken on this day in an earlier year. And again, another day when I don’t seem to have taken any photographs in the past so I have chosen a random one taken many years.

This is a waterfall taken somewhere in Ireland in October in the early 1980s on a cycling holiday.

A waterfall, Ireland

Still life

I write this on a Sunday morning in late January. Outside the window snow is falling and the world lies still. It’s a day for hunkering down and staying warm indoors. Much of our lives have been lived indoors in the past year. As a photographer this has meant fewer landscapes and more still lives.

Still life is older than photography. Still life or “nature morte” (literally dead nature) was a popular subject matter for painters. They would arrange and paint a number of objects, typically of a luxurious nature such as game, fish, fruit, and flowers. There was very often an underlying sense that the objects depicted would fade away thus presenting an allegory on the transience of life, and human vanity. Sometimes this would be rammed home by the inclusion of a skull or some other symbol of death!

The genre became popular with early photographers. Henry Fox Talbot, the inventor of one early photographic process, used his invention to photograph objects such as the statues around his home in Wiltshire, England, for example. There were some very practical reasons for choosing still life. Early photographic processes required long exposure times and inanimate objects don’t move.

Also, it gave early photographers a chance to practice their new artform.

Initially they would emulate the older still life paintings partly because they had no other frame of reference but also because they wanted to gain respectability for their new artform and showing it as a continuation of an older tradition was one way of doing this.

Gradually though they began to exploit the new technology, cropping objects at the edge of the frame and using focus to emphasise parts of the subject. Some still life photographs became almost abstract.

Why take still life photographs?

Here are four reasons why I take still life photographs.

First of all, I feel I am completely in control of the process and the subject matter. I can choose and arrange the objects as I wish. And I don’t have to worry about asking permission before photographing something!

Secondly, still life photography is a way of bringing order out of chaos. This can be said of any form of photography, of course, but there is something unique about still life photography where I bring the chaos in the form of a disparate choice of objects and then order them in such a way to tell a story in front of the lens.

And there is also something quite immersive about still life photography. It is very easy to lose myself in the small world I have created on the table as I re-arrange objects and the lighting to get the pictures I want. In the strange world we find ourselves in at the moment it is very comforting to focus in on a small world that I have complete control over.

Finally, It’s also good for observational skills. I can give myself plenty of time to really look at the objects in front of me. How are they laid out? What’s in the foreground? What’s in the background? Is something unintentionally obscuring something else? What’s the best composition for these objects? Where is the light coming from? Are there any unwanted shadows? What about reflections? Unlike other forms of photography I have the luxury of time and complete control to be able to answer those questions to my (almost) complete liking.

Still life with old maps and a compass; looking forward to the day I can explore further afield once more!

On this day 22nd January

This photograph was taken on the 22nd January 2017 and was part of a project looking at what remained of the old railway that ran through the centre of Weymouth, Dorset. The line used to carry trains from the station to the dockside but no trains have run along it since the 1990s, and now much of it has been removed.

The photographs were the subject of an exhibition I held in Weymouth Library in May 2017.

These photographs are being published during the third Covid 19 lockdown in England when it is difficult to get out to take too many new images.

On this day 20th January

I am not sure when this photograph was taken but I thought I would share as I don’t seem to have ever photographed anything on the 20th January.

This was an early photograph taken on an old Zeiss Ikon 120 film camera. I think it shows the interior (and exterior – a double exposure!) of all that remains of the old church in Fleet, Dorset. The rest of the church was destroyed in a massive storm in the early nineteenth century.