LightCentric Photography Blog: Line, Shape, Pattern and Color

Daishi - do Temple; Sieryju Shrine - Aomori, Japan

AS I was processing images from our (semi) recent, nearly 3-week, trip to Japan, I - not for the first time - noted a fairly large percentage of shots with the similarities of line, shape, pattern and often color. I have made no secret of the fact that bright colors attract my photographic eye. It is so often an "in-your-face" attribute of a scene.

PATTERNS, LINES and shapes, though, are often more subtle. One of the "seeing" skills a photographer (hopefully) acquires, is the ability to not only see these attributes, but to organize them ways that make the composition appealing. Doing so effectively means that the photographer must also learn, familiarize themself with, and use certain compositional guidelines. Level horizons, leading lines, non-convergence, and placement of picture elements in a pleasing and non-static arrangement are all guidelines that intersect with the seeing and using of lines, shapes and patterns.

Torii Gate Entrance to Ikuta Shinto Shrine - Kobe, Japan - [Copyright Andy Richards 2024 - All Rights Reserved]

only in America do we view art as a hobby or convenience

SOMETIMES EITHER nature, or human creators do much of that work for us. There is no place where this was ever more apparent to me than in Japan. I read recently (on FB of all places :-) ) a comment which resonated with me. The remark was something like: "only in America do we view art as a hobby or convenience." The implication is (and perhaps accurately) the rest of the world has a much greater appreciation for art. That is sad. Even though by the time I was a junior in college, I was a reasonably avid photographer, I didn't think of the craft as art. That came later. Never as a singular "epiphany," though. More like I just grew to realize it over time. Ironically, that junior year required me to enroll in an "elective" class that was unrelated to either of my dual major subjects (Economics and Business Administration and U.S. History). I looked for one that might not involve "heavy lifting," and ultimately chose an "art appreciation" class. I wasn't really that interested. It just "checked the boxes," and I underestimated the academic rigor involved in the study of art. Fortunately, I was a quick "study," and realized early on that there would be some work involved. A surprise to me; the "work" actually became both fun and interesting. I found myself thoroughly enjoying the class, the enthusiasm of the instructor who challenged me to learn, and the subject matter. I also found myself wishing I had more allocated class "space" to take more of this type of class. In years later, as a photographer trying to better understand and approach composition, I have often wished I had taken some art and drawing classes.

artists did not consider themselves "artists" at all. They were scientists, engineers, and architects

YOU SEE, "art," is really not just pretty pictures. Indeed, for many centuries, many who we today classify as artists did not consider themselves "artists" at all. They were scientists, engineers, and architects. Among the most famous were people like Leonardo da Vinci (who was perhaps much more an engineer than and "artist," per se), and Michelangelo and Gaudi, who were first architects, and secondarily "artists." As such, these talented people were highly regarded in Europe and in Asia. If you visit either place extensively, you will begin to see the pattern of some of the worlds most impressive and magnificent structures being designed by folks like this. They mostly all engaged in "art" of some form. The architecture is - indeed - art. But it is so much more. It is engineering and beauty, and balance, and it is enduring. When you approach history in that manner, the contribution of "art" to our society is stunning. Not only does it stimulate our creative and appreciative side, but it is also very utilitarian. It is also symbolic with perhaps the vast majority of amazing structures around the world and throughout history being churches, mosques, temples and shrines.

AGAIN, IN my observation, there is nowhere in the world that this is any more apparent than in Japan. Perhaps until the latter part of the current century, there wasn't really much "modern" looking design in Japan. Instead, they have stuck rather faithfully to the traditional look and architectural design of their culture. Interestingly, one of the most impressive of the places we visited, the Seiryu-Ji Temple in Aomori City, was built in the late 1980s. Yet if you didn't read that in their literature, you would have no idea. It is very much like other venues we saw that were hundreds of years old!

JAPANESE ART and architecture can be described as being endowed with simplicity. There is an abundance of straight lines and repeating pattern, more sparsely punctuated with some complementary curves. Lots of geometry. The curvature of the top of the ubiquitous "Torii Gate," and many of the roof lines are an example of subtle curves designed to complement the mostly geometrically straight lines in the balance of the design. The Torii Gate, most often found at the entrance of a Shinto Shrine, symbolizes the transition from the human realm to the spirit realm, and it is proper etiquette to bow before proceeding through the gate. The observant will note the similarity between the design of the gate and some of the kanji symbols. The gate (which, by the way, does not always have the upswept curved "lintel" - but sometimes has a straight, or other geometric shape) is a combination of two kanji, one of which means "bird" and one of which means "existing."

IN SOME cases, interest and even excitement is added with bright colors. Often it is gold and green. Sometimes is is real gold (as in the Temple Rokuon-ji, in Kyoto - illustrated above). Perhaps most often, though, it is perhaps the most popular color in Japan - "red." I put red in quotations because it is not really red. At least not what I consider red. To me a pure red would be the color of a freshly painted barn in Vermont, or the red stripes on the U.S. flag. To me the "red" used in Japanese architecture is more of a blend of red and orange; leaning slightly toward orange. Red, in Japan, is symbolic of power, peace, prosperity, and good luck. It is the imperial color which is used in the Japanese flag, as well as not only some of the imperial architecture but importantly: Shinto Shrines. In some cases, the repeating patterns are found in both a "macro" and "micro" part of the design, as in the Fushimi Inari Shrine, whose grand design features repeating architectural shapes on the grounds of the shrine.

IF IT is not really red, and not really orange, what color is it? Vermillion. Until the 20th century, vermillion was the closest pigment to red that was available in Asia. It was also the most expensive pigment. Because of this, it was only common to see the bright vermillion color in limited places, like imperial palaces and residences, Shinto Shrines, and occasionally the homes of the very wealthy. To me it is very distinctive shade, and always brings me back to Japanese architecture.

THE FUNDAMENTAL elements, though, of Japanese design and architecture, are still basically line, shape and pattern, arranged simply and geometrically. That is why we see so many examples of Japanese architecture that are not brightly colors and are often even nearly monochromatic. Here, they add interest by using contrasting shades, and sometimes, gold. The "stable" in Sorakuen Garden Kobe is a great example of wonderful Japanese architecture without even a hint of bright (pigment-based) color. But the beautiful, burnished, natural wood, with light accents and brightly finished brass fittings make up for it in my view.

LIKEWISE, THE gate to Sorakuen Garden in Kobe, while characterized by the same architecture as some of the more colorful and ornate gates around the country, boasts the original wood used to build it in the 18th century: Japanese Zelkova. The contrasting colors of off-white panels and the natural, dark wood are the only color here, giving it an almost monochromatic look. Still, it is visually interesting as a result of its repeating lines and patterns.

Until the 20th century, vermillion was the closest pigment to red that was available in Asia

ANOTHER COMMONLY appearing repeating pattern in Japanese architecture is found in multiple roof lines. Most traditional rooflines in Japan show that gentle, upswept curve (much like the curve on the Torii gate). Most commonly seen is the 5-storied pagoda. The 5 stories represent the "five elements" of Buddhism consisting of earth, water, fire, wind and sky.

THE REMAINING buildings of Kanazawa Castle are another example of multiple, repeating roof lines. When you look at it in this context, it is perhaps not so different from multi-story residential construction in the U.S. Repeating, varied sized roofs which are not only interesting looking, but also utilitarian. Again, you can see the geometric and repeating pattern and shape in this very much traditional Japanese structure.

I
POSTED some of these images on my FB page over the past month and thought there was enough material there to create a full blog post. Hope you enjoyed the images!