The Power of 3

"A good photograph is knowing where to stand." Ansel Adams

A question that often comes to my mind is "Why did I take this photo? What was it about this scene that made me want to photograph it? I get that light plays a significant part in all this and indeed, poor lighting is the primary reason for putting the camera away. But obviously, there are other things going on. Take composition for example. When I think of composition, I think of placement of elements, and which elements to include or not to include within the frame. And it is all for one purpose - to create a visually appealing image.

Several years ago, I posted the image above online and someone commented with a compliment on my use of three objects instead of two or four. Up until then, the number of objects in my photographs was not on my conscious. But that comment struck me because when I looked at the image with this new thought, I realized the meaning of it. From that point on, I considered the number of objects when choosing to create or when composing a photograph. Later, I learned I was following a composition rule - the rule of odds.

The rule of odds applies to odd numbers up to about 7 or 9 (except one). Among them, 3 stands out. There is something about the number three that affects the human brain in an intriguing way. As a teacher, I learned that students understood better when content was boiled down to three main points. Our brains seem to retain information better when it has only three things to remember. Three appears frequently in stories; three bears, three little pigs, three guesses, three wishes. Lectures, stories, video tutorials, blogs, etc tend to have three parts, introduction, main content and summary. And let's not forget the religious symbols as well (Father, Son and Holy Ghost).

The number three also has a visual or aesthetic appeal to our brain. This is where the rule of odds comes into play. It seems that the brain likes seeing one object framed by two other objects. Compared to only two objects which our brain perceives as competing with each other, three objects provide harmony to the scene.

It seems counter-intuitive to inject rules into art, because the word "rule" implies rigidity and having to do something we don't want to do. But the thing is, composition rules really work. To help get around the negativity of rules, maybe we can stop thinking of them as rules and instead think of them as elements our brain find most visually appealing. We photograph what we love to see. And sometimes we snap the photo in the moment without much thought and then move on. But when we are in the mindset of creating an image rather than snapping a photo, we actually apply composition rules, consciously or subconsciously. In other words, we find elements that are visually appealing. We evaluate the scene and create a composition within the frame of the camera's viewfinder. We apply composition rules by moving around and viewing the scene from various perspectives, and by considering things like depth of field, lighting, colors, movement, and so on. We do this to find the most visually appealing composition, not because we think we have to follow rules.

If we can think of nature photography as a form of art, than how is an artistic photograph created from nature? Does the artist consciously look for composition rules in nature or is the artist naturally drawn to a scene because of the composition rules being followed by nature? The answer may be in the colloquial saying "I know it when I see it."

Our brains aesthetically follow the rule of odds most of the time when we photograph what we love because we are naturally drawn to what is visually appealing to our brains.  Once you recognize that the rule of odds can play a very significant part in your creation of artistic nature images, you will also learn that the most powerful part of photography is the ability to capture those three objects in an infinite number of ways. This is because an artistic photograph requires much more than just three objects.

And that is where making photography an art requires so much more than just visual appeal. Composition rules or visual appeal is a great place to begin, but certainly photography as an art goes well beyond that.

The essentials of identity in nature

When I saw these grasses isolated from others, I couldn't help but capture them. There was just something about the design that I viewed as not-quite perfect but perfect enough.

One year ago, I sold my 1600-sq-ft Miami home and moved into a 32-ft RV parked most of the time on a 150-acre island.  I have stripped down my life to its basics by removing all non-essentials, including space.

Down to the basics, a few delicate lines and subtle tones. What more is needed?

This lifestyle is sometimes described as minimalism. Here is one definition that rings true - "At its core, minimalism is the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts us from it." as written by Joshua Becker. And that is exactly what I did, removed the stuff that distracted me from what I really value.

These grasses and their reflection are about as perfect as you can get as far as placement relative to each other. And that their are three stems instead of two or four makes it more compelling in composition. Nature's art.

Incidentally, the term minimalism was founded in an art movement. Here is a Wikipedia description - "Minimalism describes movements in various forms of art and design, especially visual art and music, where the work is set out to expose the essence, essentials of identity or a subject through eliminating all non-essential forms, features or concepts."

When I first started capturing these scenes, I created ripples that would travel into the frame.

Minimalism is appealing to me as a form of art as well as a way of life. And before I ever contemplated the concept of minimalism or art for that matter, I gravitated to it immediately after picking up a camera. The fact is, I spend a great amount of time in low land and ocean environments with wide open spaces where the horizon meets the sky at a very distant point. Basically, I am surrounded by scenery with lots of negative space. It is by spending my time alone in these open spaces where I have become a student of nature's art. And it is also from my experience in wide open spaces that I have become attuned with the concept of minimalism.

I no longer create ripples, instead, I try to capture nature's handmade ripples.

Consequently, I began to examine some of my images and tried to figure out why I was compelled to create them. In a particular location where I paddle my canoe, I am surrounded by marsh water where small mangrove trees grow among the grasses. Often times the water is flat calm with only a little disturbance from tiny fish or the wind. It is here where I can view water as negative space. It is also where I can frame a scene using delicate grasses or small mangrove seedlings as primary subjects. I paddle slowly through the marsh and am easily drawn into the wide scope of it, especially when the sky awakens with clouds. That is when I love to take out the wide angle lens and try to capture the marsh scene in its entirety.

The scene at large.

But having spent endless hours in this area, I have trained myself to take out the long lens and zoom in, which I now understand to be an attempt to expose the 'essentials of identity' through elimination of all non-essential features. Often, these images do not have much going for them; there is little, if any depth of field or tonal contrast, sometimes the light is flat and there is a significant amount of negative space to accompany a small subject. This has led me to do some research to find the answer to the question "Why did I take that shot in the first place?" Within the huge topics of art and design, I try to sift through the narratives and descriptions in order to crack the code of nature's art.

This is an unusual image and is so contrary to all the other images. But, the cloud reflection was seductive so I tried to compose a scene with the confusing display of lines. It took me a couple years before I decided I liked it.

It finally occurred to me that these images have the same basic element - lines. And the images that are most appealing to me are those with the most negative space (less is more). I believe what I have done is stripped down the landscape to its most basic element or 'essentials of identity'. Indeed, each image by itself falls out of context and does little to offer the viewer a sense of place. But that would not be the point. Instead, I have presented the essential components of this place by removing the non-essentials. What is left to discover are the expressive lines created by the grasses and the mangrove roots.

I thought the subtle cloud reflections and water ripples added nicely without overpowering the gentleness of the grasses. 

At its barest, nature presents itself in various subtle ways; shapes, forms, lines, textures, patterns. Where ever that place may be, its essence will become obvious only after you spend quality time observing. You begin to find what really attracts you to that place; it could be the ripple patterns on a beach, the form of a flower, the shapes created by tree branches, the texture of rocks, and so on. Nature revealed means that you are in tune with its essentials and can ignore the non-essentials. And then from there, you can capture those essentials in a way that is unique to your observations. It may not be obvious to the outsider, but it is to you. At the end of the day, it is your connection to what you value most that allows you to remove the non essentials from your art and your life.

This scene stood out to me despite its lack of tonal contrast, depth of field and strong lighting. It was all about the expressive lines and how they seemed to work together. The ripples from a small animal was a bonus.

If you enjoyed this blog, please check out some of my previous blogs, including this one titled "The Simplicity of Wilderness".

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