Strong views of geometry

Verticals and horizontals impose some order, or at a least prominent pattern, to this view; order, not chaos.

Known for strong geometric arrangements in his “decisive moment” photographs, Henri Cartier-Bresson had a strong interest in geometry long before he held his first camera as a child. Many living photographers capture pictures strong on geometry, too: patterns of line, intersecting planes, masses of color or texture that establish a prominent pattern, and so on. This photo of the side of a convenience store has electrical conduit pipes attached to the wall. In between scattered clouds, the bright light at low morning angle shines like the beam of a spotlight onto the east-facing sides of the vertical conduit segments, making it stand out from the flat expanse of the wall even more than usual. It is worth asking why perpendiculars and angles of all sorts should attract the viewer’s eye, though.

One explanation could be the sometimes dramatic tension between forces of order and disorder; between entropy spiraling out of control and decay versus neg-entropy tending toward structure and growth. By this logic, a composition (music, visual art, or another form of creative expression) with prominent skeleton, foundation, or another dominant organizing structure presents something that the audience can readily fasten onto – attaching meaning, emotion, memory, or aspiration to the event or composition. By comparison, an example lacking in strong geometry may be harder to recognize significance, meaning, purpose, or pattern to relate to. In this abstract way of thinking, strong geometry “makes sense,” but vague or non-apparent patterns in a composition do not “make sense,” at least not right away.

This same dramatic tension between forces of focus versus blur, growth versus decay, clarity versus dissolution can be found outside the realm of optics and composition. It also applies to thinking and to communicating an idea with words, too. After all, a strong pattern, easy-to-follow series of logical statements, and convincing conclusion will be easier for a person to latch onto or follow the line of reasoning. By contrast, unclear structure or obscured pattern and lack of definite shape can detract from the person’s effort to engage in the subject. Whether it is the strong geometry of a visual composition or the bold design in a philosophical statement, patterns with clear structure allow readers or viewers to “make sense” of the matter most readily and to maximum satisfaction.

Branching lines in tension with perpendicular ones

Sharp contrast of natural branching pattern versus the rectilinear geometry of the tower (Grand Rapids, MI 1-2023)

This photo presents many contrasts, each accentuating its opposite so that each side stands out all the more as a result. Snowflakes are ephemeral, while building materials are durable. The foreground sidewalk tree is living and breathing, while the built landscape exhales and inhales, but is dead. The geometric grid of the glass-faced high-rise is an unrelenting view of repeated perpendiculars, while the bare-branched tree is organized on very different principles. The vertical elements and horizontal surfaces present something impermeable and hard for precipitation to run away from, while the sparse trees drink in the moisture through relatively soft surfaces. But from a visual point of view it is the tension between the grid in the background and the branching lines in the foreground that is most intriguing psychologically.

The human delight in symmetry and ruler-straight lines, roads, texts, and so on seems to define “art,” as in artifice, artifact, artificial. It is hard to imagine something created by people that has the elegance and physical performance strengths of a mature tree, for example. Living things that respond to location and events on the time-horizon develop in particular ways, seemingly automatically or by instinct or another internal source of direction. For a rational thinking process to determine something as beautiful as a tree (not a facsimile that is mimicking a model, but one growing from thin air of the person’s imagination) is unlikely. And so, whether it is this definitional conflict between ruler-straight versus the absence of rectilinear shapes, or it is something else, by looking at the juxtaposed tree and shiny building in this photo, the geometric tension can be sensed. One is the sum of a particular engineering and architectural calculation; there can only be one correct answer to the design problem. But the other can grow and twist and bend within certain limits; there is not just one answer that is mutually exclusive or any other possible ones.

Each form has a kind of beauty: the grid turning a blueprint into physical fabric to serve its designed functions for many generations. Or the beauty of branching lines always reaching for light and gaining stature day by day, summer after summer. But when the two differing aesthetics intersect, as they do in this composition, then each form makes the other seem somehow heightened perceptually: the tree is more tree-like (and altogether not-artifactual) and the building is more architectural (and altogether non-organic). Visual tension and visual heightened impression come about not only in pictures taken in city settings like downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan, but may also be true outside the arena of seeing and thinking. When ideas derived from contrasting sets of assumptions intersect, then the difference of one makes the other’s character amplified somehow. And when holding the two uneasy neighbors side by side there is an element of tension in play, too. Carnivores and vegans can dine at the same table, so can people following a Halal dietary ethic and those not doing so, or social conservatives and liberal fellow citizens. In each case, as in the above photo, there may be a perceptible tension in the inherent logic of the one versus the other, and at the same time, the nature of each somehow is amplified as a result.

Elegant lines, graceful curves – what’s the attraction

new leaves trace the curving line of the 2020 maple tree branches pulled by gravity [author photo]

Great power and beauty can be seen in straight lines and blocky geometric shapes. But so, too, will there be strong appeal in rounded forms and graceful lines. And when brought into juxtaposition, both the linear and the curved geometry somehow are intensified. The directionality, certitude and bare minimalism of the rectilinear design can inspire or comfort the viewer. But what about the tension (or release of tension) that comes with delicate arches, loops, and swirls? What sorts of feelings may be stirred, and how come that happens?

Something like 25% of the human brain has been attributed to processing visual information taken in through both eyes, identified in the form of 3-D likeness, and associated with corresponding meaning and memory or imagination. So a variety of things catch the eye, sometimes because of some ancient, instinctual readiness to react to peripheral movement, striking colors, or patterns formed by materials or combinations of shadow and light. Whether that is for survival (perceptive persons have a better chance to live long enough to reproduce) or for aesthetic pleasure in beautiful scenes and objects, it is hard to distinguish. But in contrast to making or discovering straight lines with the huge concentration needed to hold firm the direction of the motion, for graceful arcs the motion is more fluid and is constrained not by force of will but rather the natural swing of the hand or arm as it forms the arc. In other words, symmetry and perpendiculars and ruler-straight lines take a lot of work, but elegant swoops of an arc are freedom itself, a natural and unconstrained, yet sustained, coherent line; not random wobbles or jagged scribbles, but a deviation from straight line that follows a consistent formula. The elegant curve is orderly and tidy, but not in the same what that geometrically perfect parallel or perpendicular lines are.

In conclusion, part of the answer to why it is that curving lines seem so graceful lies in their making: instead of rigidly sticking to the correct angle needed to form a straight line, the curve can flow under its own inertia, like letting go of the sailboat’s tiller in a gentle breeze to let the boat turn naturally toward the source of the wind. Another reason why curving lines express the idea of elegance comes from the visual contrast to straight lines: instead of rigid insistence there is gentle invitation to let the eye wander along the length of the arc to see where it takes the viewer. Probably there other experiential reasons for the attraction of elegant curves, big and dramatic ones, or subtle rises and falls of the line. But these observations about the making and the viewing of curving lines is a good place to start.