Landscape.
The student who would become a landscape photographer must go to the country and live there for long periods; for in no other way can he get any insight into the mystery of nature. All nature near towns is tinged with artificiality, it may not be very patent but the close observer detects it. Among fisher-folk this may be seen in the sealskin cap, in the rustic it shows itself in the hard billycock hat, in landscape pure it may be seen in some artificial forms of the river-banks, or in artificial undergrowths; the mark of the beast, the stamp of vulgarity, that hydra-headed monster which always appears whereever a few men are gathered together, is sure to be found somewhere. For this reason then the would-be landscape-photographer should pack up his things and go to some locality with which he is in sympathy, just as a painter does. |“Outings.”| Here let him be cautioned against taking part in any of those “outings,” organized by well-meaning but mistaken people. It is laughable indeed to read of the doings of these gatherings; of their appointment of a leader (often blind); of the driving in breaks, always a strong feature of these meetings; of the eatings, an even stronger feature; and finally of the bag, 32 “Ilford’s,” 42 “Wrattens',” 52 “Paget’s,” &c.
Apply the same sort of thing to painting, and would it not indeed be ridiculous? Would it not lower painting in the eyes of the world if say thirty academicians with a leader for the day, assembled at Victoria Station with pastels and boards, or with paint-tubes and small canvasses, and went by train to some village and there proceeded to pastel or paint what the leader suggested; then would follow the dinner (the best part, no doubt), and next day how edified would be the world to read in the daily papers of the most successful outing, the result of which was the covering of 32 “Rowney,” 29 “Windsor and Newton,” and 40 “Newman” canvasses! All these “playings” bring photography down to the level of cycling and canoeing, and yet many photographers wonder that artists will have no official connection with photography. We know well that it is for these and similar reasons that serious artists will not allow their names to be officially connected with photography, and we here earnestly appeal to all who really have the advancement of photography at heart to do all in their power to bring such trivial “play” to an end. |Choice of district.| Having then decided to go to the country, let the student think well with which kind of landscape he is most in sympathy, but let him always remember this fact that all landscape is not suitable for pictorial purposes; he must therefore learn to distinguish between the suitable and the unsuitable. Landscapes there are full of charm, pleasant places for a picnic or encampment, but when you come to put them into a picture, they become tame and commonplace.
Again let the student avoid imitation. If he knows that an artist has been successful in one place, do not let him, like a feeble imitator, be led thither also, for the chances are, if his predecessor were a strong man, that he will produce commonplaces where the other produced masterpieces, and thereby confess his inferiority. It is far better to be original in a smaller way than another, than to be even a first-rate imitator of another, however great.
Photographic haunts.
For this reason the present method adopted by inartistic writers of publishing “Photographic Haunts” is strongly to be deprecated, such guides can but lead to conventional and imitative, therefore contemptible work. The fact of the matter is nature is full of pictures, and they are to be found in what appears to the uninitiated the most unlikely places. Let the honest student then choose some district with which he is in sympathy, and let him go there quietly and spend a few months, or even weeks if he cannot spare months, and let him day and night study the effects of nature, and try at any rate to produce one picture of his own, one picture which shall show an honest attempt to probe the mysteries of nature and art, one picture which shall show the author has something to say, and knows how to say it, as perhaps no other living person could say it; that is something to have accomplished. Remember that your photograph is as true an index of your mind, as if you had written out a confession of faith on paper.
We will now offer a few remarks on the component parts of a picture.
THE “LINES.”
“Lines.”
As we have said there can be no rules for the arrangement of lines, yet they are all-important and essential to the expression of harmony and directness. The student must cultivate the habit of quickly analyzing the lines of a picture, and coming to a decision whether they are harmonious and pictorially suitable. For example, he must not have the lines of different objects cutting each other and forming unpleasant angles, for if he does this the eye of the observer will never get away from the geometrical figure, however good the other part of the picture may be. He should look for repeated line, and his lines should run into the picture, thus all uncomfortableness is avoided. |Balance.| There is no necessity for balance or the equal arrangement of masses on either side of the picture, for this, though it may produce pretty pictures, will never produce strong ones. Every line must help to tell the story and strengthen the picture, otherwise it weakens it.