THE LAWS OF PICTORIAL COMPOSITION Although we are concerned in this chapter entirely with what are generally spoken of as the " laws " of composition, we must warn the reader, at the very beginning, against the danger of overestimating their importance. A short time ago, at the conclusion of an address upon this subject, the President of a photographic society dolefully declared that in future he should be positively afraid to take a photo for fear of breaking the " laws " we had referred to.
Let us say, then, emphatically, that no work of art can be produced in blind obedience to law, however good such laws may be. " Laws were made for slaves." If, after much practice and many honourable failures, you do not come to know what to do instinctively, without thinking about any laws, you might as well turn your attention to some other subject better suited to your natural abilities or, at any rate, pursue photography for purposes other than pictorial. Besides, many if not all the laws of composition are being constantly broken with complete success, while pictures made in abject fear of the rules always look it—trammelled, conventional, made-up.
Mr. Craig Annan's picture, " The Waterfall," is a capital case in point. Astonishingly beautiful, it treats all the rules with perfect contempt. Its qualities wholly depend upon Mr. Annan's powers of perception and taste. Very few artists, with their almost unlimited opportunities of rearrang ing the subject, could have expressed so much sheer loveli ness. That is what cannot be explained. That is above and beyond all rules ; that is Art.
This, of course, is not an argument in favour of ignorance, but it is a very necessary warning lest theoretical principles are allowed to become masters rather than servants. The golden rule in art, to which there can never be any worthy exception, is this : Do as you like ; go on doing as you like, and eventually, if it is in you, your appreciation of the beautiful will come out in your picture.
A word concerning the history of these laws will em phasise the point. Few people seem to realise that practice
comes before theory. Laws, after all, are only generalisations upon facts. It was constantly observed that in the majority of great pictures the same things were invariably done, and theories were advanced to account for these facts. The theories proved to be so workable that they have been adopted as principles. It very often happens that the artist is quite unconscious that he is obeying any laws. He is doing what he likes. Ruskin discovered the principles upon which Turner's pictures were based. Turner is said to have re marked that Ruskin seemed to know a great deal more about the pictures than he did ! The theories had followed, not preceded, the practice. But there the principles are, and pro viding they are not allowed to unduly obtrude themselves they should be completely understood.
Repetition.—A composition is an arrangement—a bringing together of the parts in an orderly manner so as to produce a unified whole. The simplest and most elementary form of arrangement is repetition—the association of like things. Here (Fig. 27) are some straight lines. They are not in the least associated. Each lies in a different direction.
In Fig. 28 one of these lines (the upright one) is repeated. All the lines are the same length and upright. They are at equal distances from one another and that distance is equal to the length of the lines. That is the. simplest possible form of repetition. There is order, if nothing else.
Variety.—But the eye quickly tires. It always begins by associating like things ; then it looks for differences. It desires variety as well as repetition. In Fig. 29 the want is somewhat satisfied. There is just as much repetition as before, but in addition we have an alternation of long and short lines, and the distance between the lines is different from the length of either. Without any return to disorder an increase of interest has been created.