Camera Work: A Photographic Quarterly (1908 (Heft 21))

create; but he can stick things together in such a way as to illude into the
belief that he has created; and it is this esthetic quality of composition which
all the fine arts must possess, but is the only one which they must possess
in common. As the truth of this proposition is possibly not evident at first
sight, I must again ask the reader to follow me through a short investigation
to determine what composition is. Let us begin with composition in the
graphic arts.
Any and every transcription of nature to canvas or paper will not make
a composition; it is essential that such elements should be present that some
particular idea is conveyed to the mind of the spectator. Further, it is
equally essential that no more elements than necessary shall be present, for
the superfluous both contradicts and detracts from the particular idea. And
it is also equally important that the composing elements be so disposed that
their contours shall naturally lead the eye over the picture in such a way
that there be presented an esthetically logical sequence of facts. A compo-
sition is in fact like an American anecdote. If the raconteur places the
different parts of his anecdote in a wrong sequence, the point is either
entirely lost or marred; if he omits or adds> the result is likewise incomplete.
A composition differs, therefore, from a scientific statement, in that it is not
a matter of facts which can be stated in any way, and in any order, without
destroying their truth; but it is a series of facts whose truth is purely
dependent upon their special juxtaposition. Now,just why a series of facts,
possibly commonplace enough in themselves, and entirely uninteresting in
the combinations they are usually found in in nature, should suddenly
become interesting when “composed,” nobody knows. Why the same
rocks, fields, trees, and sky seen from one point of view should look
ordinary, but when looked at from another, should tell a story which affects
to our innermost depths, is a mystery that has never been solved. Ruskin,
in “ Modern Painters,” after solving to his own satisfaction many enigmas,
gives up composition in despair. At the conclusion of this long work he
says, speaking of composition, “ The power of mind which accomplishes this,
is as yet wholly inexplicable to me, as it was when I first defined it in the
chapter on imagination associative, in the second volume.” Psychologists
tell us that composition in some way appeals to the subconscious part of the
brain, and that they are at work on the problem, but have not yet quite
solved it. Philosophers inform us that somewhere within ourselves a sense
of absolute order exists, and that when this sense perceives absolute order in
nature it is pleased; but when it sees disorder it is displeased. Undoubtedly,
the scientists and philosophers, as well as John Ruskin, are right as far as
they go; but, unfortunately, they take us no further than we were. There-
fore, all we can say is, that to compose is to give order. The sculptor and
architect give order through lines and proportions, and light and shade.
The orator, besides placing his ideas orderly, expresses order through his
voice, gestures, and even depends upon his physical stature and bulk. The
painter produces order through lines and colors, and also by means of that
ptculmr painter touch, which those entering photo-polemics have so frequently