Step it Up

Stairways are such a great subject, and a perfect repeating pattern, especially with the light and shadow of the railings repeating on the steps. A few weeds for some natural contrast never hurts the image, either. Thank goodness not everyone gets around to pulling the weeds or painting their houses, or the world would be a boring place for photographers like me.

Have you been seeing repeating patterns? You have one more day to link in with Exploring with a Camera! I hope you'll share the patterns you've seen in the world around you.

Exploring with a Camera: Finding Form

Happy Exploring with a Camera Thursday! I'm so excited that for the next couple of weeks we will be Finding Form in our photographs. While I've been exploring form for a while, I didn't become quite so focused on it until our recent trip to Greece. Today I will explain the idea of form and show you how I use it in my photographs. At the end of the post you will find the link tool to share your own photographs of form, or you can add them to the Exploring with a Camera Flickr pool.

What is Form?


It helps to explain form by contrasting it with shape. Shape is two dimensional, flat. Form is three dimensional, it has volume. In our photographs we can often find elements of both shape and form. In some cases, the object we are photographing really is flat, and has only shape. In most cases, however, the object we are photographing is really three dimensional, it has volume. We communicate those 3D forms in our 2D photographs through the angle and lighting we choose to capture.

Before diving into examples of form, I'll show you an example photograph of shape, absent of form. A silhouette is a shape, it has no volume. In the photo below, you can tell that these are people, but you don't get much indication of the form by the silhouette, only the shape. Contrast that with the lead-in photo of the stairway on Santorini island, in Greece. In the stairway photo, there is dimension and movement. You move through the stairway and can see and feel its dimension - that's form.

The light you use in your photographs is what expresses form. Do you need direct light or indirect light? What's best? I found it interesting, as I consulted my photography reference books on this topic,  how discussion of form was either completely absent or contradictory. Only two books even mentioned shape and form as design elements in photography, and those two disagreed on what light best expresses form. 

So, in my explorations I looked at images where form was a dominant element and what type of light I was using, to share with you here. My conclusion: The light that best expresses form will depend both on what is available and on what you are trying to convey. Each type of light emphasizes different elements of form: Direct light seems to emphasize planes and edges while indrect light emphasizes curves.

Direct Light

Here is an example of direct afternoon sunlight, on the turret of this church on Santorini. The form is definitely expressed, you can see the dimension of the building through the different faces and the curve of the dome. The resulting form is very planar or angular, however, and the curves are minimized.

The volume of this carving, from a door found in Cefalu, Sicily, is clearly evident. There is a strong element of shape with the circles but the strong light and shadow gives the dimension of form. I almost want to reach out and touch it, run my fingers along the carved surfaces.

This image of footprints in the sand is all about form. There is really nothing "there" in this image. The photograph is of what is not there, the displaced sand, that the light and shadow highlight. Without the direct light, these footprints would not have the strong dimensional form you see here.

Indirect Light


Indirect light is softer, more gentle; It emphasizes the curves. I love indirect light for the gradations it provides, which serve to show volume. The indirect light on this Canova sculpture in the Louvre is marvelous for capturing the details of the form. Can you imagine this sculpture with a strong front or back light? The depth would be gone.

I have completely fallen in love with sculpture as an art, I think because it is pure form. Photography and sculpture have an amazing amount in common - both are about expressing light on a volume. The significant difference is that sculptors create the form from nothing while photographers capture the form that exists. Aren't we lucky that those of us who aren't going to carve marble have a way to communicate form?  I think so!

Here's another example of form, expressed through light on a sculpture. You saw this image of a Rodin sculpture several weeks ago when we explored rim light, but the form is definitely captured by the indirect lighting from both sides.

The attic of Gaudi's Casa Battlo in Barcelona is a heavenly place to capture form in indirect light. This stairway has indirect light from several directions, which serves to highlight the various forms that it is made up of. The gradation of light and shadow give the image a lot of depth and layers to move through. The curves are emphasized.

Here is a final example of lighting from Santorini, a combination of both direct and indirect light in this scene. How do you think they work together? What does each type of light emphasize?

Color

In looking at my photographs that have form as a primary design element, I've noticed that they are almost always monochromatic. Removing variation in color helps to focus on the form. This can either be done by converting to black and white, or capturing a mainly monochromatic scene. This street corner in Brescia, Italy is a good example. The form of the buildings is emphasized through the light on the different surfaces. Since both buildings were pink, the image retains a feeling of form as one of the main elements.

This group of images from Burano, Italy show variation in color when taken together. If you look at each one individually, you will see form as a dominant element in each photograph. These photos also serve as examples of how indirect light works differently than direct light to show form. The curves of the pipes and other elements are emphasized rather than the planes and edges. The indirect light gives a softness to the images, where direct light would give harder, distinct edges.

Images don't have to be completely monochromatic to highlight form, as this photo from Santorini shows. The form of the wall and steps is a strong element in this photo because the colors are softer and don't compete.

When there is strong color contrast, however, form can recede to a secondary element in the photograph. This image from Burano has a strong element of form, however the strongest design element of the image is color because of the contrast of the bright primary colors. Form takes a supporting role here.

I hope this has helped you to see what form is, and how you can use it in your photographs. Since photography is a two-dimensional expression of our three-dimensional world, finding and conveying form is a way to give our images depth. You may notice most photographs have an element of form in them, but it may not be the primary design element. 

Take some time over the next couple of weeks to find form. Natural or man-made, straight or curvy, every three-dimensional object has form. Go through your archives, or explore with your camera, and come back and share what you've found with everyone here. I say it every time, but I learn so much through the images you choose to share here! We grow our community knowledge that way. You can link your images in below or add them to the Flickr pool.  

Thanks so much for joining me here! Have fun exploring!

FYI - Links will be moderated. Please ensure that your linked image is on topic, and include a short explanation of how it relates to the current theme. Link back to this site through the Exploring with a Camera button (available here) or a text link. Thanks!

Visual Music

I am so happy to get reacquainted with this stairway today. This lovely spot is in Cascais, Portugal, a little coast town that is a 30 minute train ride from Lisbon. This stairway takes you from the sea up to the town. I loved the texture of the peeling paint and the exposure to the sea air. Looking at this photo today, I am reminded of music. A treble clef to start the line, and notes ascending. A beautiful melody of line and color and texture to see and hear. In my mind, the percussion of the sea is in the background, to support and tie it all together.

I have been thinking of the creative process this morning, as I am reading The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women by Gail McMeekin. My creative process is a combination of regular practice, along with some little rituals. When I work at the computer, either writing or with photos, I love to have my cup of tea. That signals my brain, "It's time to create." When I'm writing or have something I need to really focus on, I also turn on classical music. I love classical music, but I save it for my personal creative time. The cup of tea and the music help me move quickly into a state of flow. It's amazing what happens from there.

Do you have any rituals that help you get into the creative zone? What is your creative process?

Exploring with a Camera: Spirals

Spirals are a beautiful shape. They have marvelous curves and convey energy and motion. Not only that, they are a truly efficient form used in nature, and we see them so many places in our every day lives!

While I have captured spirals with my camera countless times, the first place I truly became aware of the spiral form explicitly was in the Barcelona Science Museum. The exhibit on forms found in nature had this to say:

The spiral is a circumference that twists away on the plane that contains it. It is the best way of growing without occupying too much space. It is frequently found in animals when there exists the contradictory need for something massive, voluminous, broad or long that does not affect mobility (horns, tails, tongues, trunks, shells, etc.) and in plants to grow something that will subsequently be unrolled. If we unrolled all the spirals we have at home (kitchen and toilet paper, audio and video tapes, adhesive tape, records, springs....) we would be forced to leave the house, as we would not all fit.

Wow! I had never thought of it that way. The typical form in nature that comes to mind for me is the shell (above, from Barcelona Science Museum), but there are so many other places you will see it. Take this photo of a gardenia, for example, from my online friend Barbara:

So gorgeous! Mother nature really knows what she is doing in these things (and so does Barbara). :)

Our man-made world copies nature to use the function of spirals. I don't personally have any photos of toilet paper, but the common spiral staircase, like this one in Verona, is a good example.

And I will spare you the countless spiral staircase photos I have of lighthouses on the Oregon coast! I can't step into one without capturing the wonderful curves and lines of them. (In prepping for this post I learned that technically, this is not a spiral because it is not all on the same plane - it's a helix. But you'll forgive me if I claim artistic license here, won't you?)

Even more than function, humans copy the form of spirals in our everyday world. The Romans used them, as I discovered in this floor mosaic in the British Museum:

The Greeks used them, in their ionic columns. (Thanks to my 9-year-old son, I've relearned which are Doric, Ionic and Corinthian. Ionic have the spirals.) These columns are used all over in architecture, here's just one example I caught in Bath:

And they are used all the time in wrought iron work, as I've noticed here in my travels in Europe. Here's a light post in Bath:

My favorite wrought iron spiral of all time is this railing in Amsterdam. Talk about function following form! What graceful curves...

An architect who used spirals over and over in his work was Antoni Gaudí, in Barcelona. He took much of his inspiration from nature, and this ceiling detail is but one example.

We see spirals every day, even if you haven't noticed it lately. I captured these two images of bus shelter advertisements in different cities on our recent trip to England. Spirals are used in graphic arts to denote natural beauty and to convey energy. They catch your eye and draw you in.

Keep your eye out for spirals around you. Here are a few ideas:
1. Look at home. All of those rolls of paper! And then there are spiral notebooks, springs, even toys (hello, Slinky!). What is there with spirals, sitting right next to you?
2. Look at nature. Flowers, ferns, vines, shells all show spirals. Water moves in spirals, think whirlpools and breaking waves. How can you capture them? What else can you find?
3. Look at architecture. Staircases and wrought iron are two I've mentioned, what others do you see?
4. Look at art and design. Artist have used spirals in their work for thousands of years, and the golden spiral or golden ratio is a fundamental compositional principle (see a short and helpful explanation here). What traditional and modern uses of spirals can you find?

I can't wait to see your spirals! Join in and share them in the Flickr group.

PS - If you want to do more exploring with your camera, visit past posts here.

It's That Simple

A pot of flowers on a step. Some color. Some texture. Some contrast. Nice light.

Seeing this made me happy.
Photographing it made me happy.
Rediscovering it in my image files and editing it made me happy.
Sharing it today makes me happy.
Writing about it makes me happy.
Looking at it makes me happy.

Can happiness really be that simple? A photograph of a pot of flowers on a doorstep? Yes, I believe so.

What simple thing makes you happy?

(PS - You can also share your answer here!)

The Means or the End?

A stairway is a means to an end, a way to get from one level to another. But sometimes, the "means" can be separated from the "end." It becomes important in itself, like this stairway in the attic of Casa Battlo in Barcelona. Yes, it's a stairway. That's the obvious and practical "end." But it is a beautiful work of art, nicely framed and ready to be enjoyed, in it's own right. The "means" develops an identity on its own, a purpose of its own, without considering the intended "end."

I've been thinking a lot about the process of creating art, creating my photography. The process of creating - of noticing and seeing and capturing and playing - is as important as the end result. The photo that I present here each day is just the obvious and practical end of my art, like the purpose of a stairway to get you from one level to the next. But the fact is that the process, the means, is probably more important to me, the creator. That's why I continue to create, why all artists continue to create. If it wasn't, we'd all be done with the first work of art we are really happy with, especially if we aren't doing this for a living. (Getting paid for art is another kind of wonderful "end" for the artistic process.)

Ursula K. LeGuin said, "It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end."

The journey, for me, is the creation of the photograph. The beauty of this "means" being it's own "end" is that process of creating is not finite, is an ongoing, never-ending, renewable resource. Infinite. Regardless of what I created or shared yesterday, I have more to create today and tomorrow.

Isn't that an incredibly positive and exciting way to think about it? I encourage you to think of your art, whether it's photography or writing or cooking or yoga, in the same way. The end is not the purpose of the creative process, the means is!

When life gives you rain...

Take photos anyway! This photo is from a back alley in Orvieto, a hill town in Umbria. I love the old scooter, the textures of the wall, the greenery and the reflections of the wet ground. A peaceful little scene, I can almost feel the cool, damp air.

The two days we spent in Orvieto on our April were rainy. I found that I wasn't as inspired to take photos - have you ever tried to take good photos with a two handed camera while holding an umbrella? Not the easiest thing to do. But the photos I did take, I find that I like. They have a very different mood than the sunny, perfect weather photos. Maybe even a little more character.

As we travel around, sometimes only a day or even less visiting a new place, I have to make the most of that time. Regardless of the weather, my goal is to capture some essence of that place. I don't have the luxury to visit again and again, to study a certain place in all light, all weather, all seasons. And you know what? I find that's ok. I've learned that when life gives you rain, you take photos anyway.

As usual, another life lesson we can take beyond photography or our other creative endeavors. Today, here in Italy, it is rainy. I think I'm going to make the most of it!

Hard and Soft Edges

A wrought iron handrail in La Pedrera, aka Casa Mila, another building by Antonio Gaudi in Barcelona is a great example of soft edges. The handrail could be all straight lines, right angles, functional, forgettable. But it's not, it's art - part of the decoration, the feel of the place. It's beautiful. I never thought much on wrought iron before living here in Europe, but now I've seen so much beautiful and functional wrought iron work I respect it as it's own art form.

In another forum, I had someone comment on the contrast I was seeing in my Barcelona photos. She put it as hard vs. soft edges. I hadn't even noticed that before, the contrast that I had noticed in Barcelona was the old vs. new, modern vs. classic, but there is definitely the hard and soft contrast too. Straight lines and flowing curves. I love getting a comment like that, that helps me to see things I captured in a different way. Keep them coming!

Stepping along Flowers

This image has been popping into my head a lot lately, which means that I should just share it already! A little bit of color and a whole lot of texture can be found in Varenna, a town on the steep edges of Lake Como not too far from where we live. I like that the "streets" in these lake-egde towns are often really stairways up the hillside, and named appropriately in Italian, salita (which means climb, rise, uphill) instead of the usual via (which means street, road, or way). And a stairway means that you can have a fabulous flower display on many levels. I used to want to paint this picture, but for some reason I never did. Maybe that's because the image was already good just as it was, waiting to be shared with you today. Happy Monday!

Farewell, Assisi

At end of the day in Assisi, as we were heading back to il parcheggio (parking garage) we walked past this pretty entry way. Same place we walked past in the morning, same light (shade), but from this angle it looked totally different and caught my attention. Just a little reminder that sometimes we need to turn or look back to where we've been, for a different perspective. You never know what you might find.

With this, I'll move on from Assisi, this wonderful town of stone and flowers and views of the Umbrian countryside.

Shapes of Light

Steps of a castle entrace at the Bled Castle in Slovenia.

This is a type of photo I've noticed catches my eye, as I go through and sort photos and pick my favorites for the blog. This kind of photo I would categorize as mostly about light, shapes and patterns. I could turn this to black and white and the photo would still work and convey a similar feeling. These images are often relatively monochromatic to begin with.

This is in contrast with the other type of photo I often share, in which COLOR plays a huge role, like yesterday's soaps from Nice. Yes, light and shapes and patterns are still important in these photos, but turning them to black and white would completely lose the feel and story.

Just a little observation on my photography for today, that's what I love about doing this blog. It helps me to see things in a slightly different way!

Happy Valentine's Day

We are in the states this week, our "Home Leave" in Corvallis, so starting with Valentine's Day today I thought I would post a few pics of various hearts I've collected in my photos.

This photo is one of my early favorites from our time here in Italy, from Bergamo. I actually didn't see the graffiti heart at all when I took the picture, but when I was reviewing on the screen it just popped out at me. This is a time I'm sure that my inner eye saw something that my conscious brain didn't even register. These types of images are what make me trust my instincts in my photography.

So enjoy this heart today, and a Valentine's wish from me!

To the Sea

This weekend we went to Genova (aka Genoa), on the Mediterranean Sea, about 2 hours from here. It was an interesting port town, with a large medieval and rennaisance historic city center. This image is from Boccadasse, a small fishing hamlet down the coast from the city center. It was an interesting little village with colored buidings, narrow alleys up and down the steep hills leading to the sea. Going to a place like this is such a delight, when you have no preconceived ideas and never know what you might find. Things are often much better without expectations, don't you think?

Up and up and up

This photo is all about moving lines. I love the swirl of the stairs up the tower. I didn't love climbing them, however! These steps are in the Torre dei Lamberti in Verona, and Laurie and I climbed up the 368 steps to the top of the bell tower. We were rewarded with a fantastic view of Verona, and the need for a rest when all was said and done.

By the way, my haircut came out great! See my new profile photo for the result. One of those "I should have done this a long time ago" things.