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I’ve been writing a fair bit about time in my newsletter recently, about the power of time, about how time is constructed, about how we can choose to use our time to nap all we want.

 

It was all set in motion by a trip home. Where I grew up everything shuts between 5pm and 8pm. We’re more like 30 minutes away from anything you might deem a high street. So, when I went to take my dog for a walk at around 7pm on a Friday I saw hardly anyone.

 

Whereas where I live now, the high street about 30 seconds from my house pretty much never closes. It will be as busy at 1am as it is at 1pm.  As such, I’ve become used to walking out on an evening and seeing people, or running errands after dinner.

 

We adapt to the environments we’re in, and those environments include their own rhythms. I had come back to York with my London rhythm and felt completely out of place despite knowing the streets as well as I know any in the capital.

 

A social sense of time had impacted how much I felt a part of a community.

 

But those rhythms can easily become something more solid. Think of how Henry Ford’s standardised work week has permeated across the world and into our psyches such that working 9-5 isn’t just a way to make a livin’ it seems to be the only way, despite lots of studies arguing perhaps the set 40 hour week isn’t the most efficient use of our time.

 

Whenever I think about the power of time and our control or lack of control over it, I find myself playing out a scene from Shakespeare’s Richard III. King Richard is about to have all of his plots unravelled, to lose his control, his kingdom and his life. But first, in a preparatory scene, which is (wrongly in my opinion) sometimes cut from certain editions, Richard yields his sense of time.

 

“KING RICHARD III

Well, but what’s o’clock?

 

BUCKINGHAM

Upon the stroke of ten.

 

KING RICHARD III

Well, let it strike.

 

BUCKINGHAM

Why let it strike?

 

KING RICHARD III

Because that, like a Jack, thou keep’st the stroke

Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.

I am not in the giving vein to-day.”

  • Act 4, Scene 2

 

Richard had controlled the pace of the world around him, but now his “meditation[s]” are being interrupted by Buckingham and more than that, he admits defeat to the ticking clock. What I’ve always found interesting about this passage is that Shakespeare wrote it just as clocks had first started to invade people’s homes. For the first time ever, personal spaces had visual and audible reminders of regimented social time. I’ve always wondered if this scene was inspired by this change, by an impact having a clock ticking away as he wrote had on Shakespeare. But who knows.

 

That scene also makes me think about how we mark time visually on clocks and audibly in ticks, tocks and ringing bells. Today, I wanted to play around with how I represent my time. I wrote a few ‘how I manage my time’ posts back when I first started this blog, but I didn’t just want to do that again. Instead, I wanted to challenge myself to make something visual, because telling visual stories is something I want to do more.

 

So here goes nothing…

 

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In my taste finding expedition, I’ve found myself being drawn to more complex and narrative pieces which juggle multiple elements.

 

I’ve always loved looking for structure in whatever I’m looking for whether that’s pattern when I’m researching, rhetorical devices or clever conclusion when I’m reading or hidden triangles when I’m walking around a gallery. But since leaving school, where the importance of composition was drilled into us in with almost a gull term of arranging triangles, squares and circles when we were 14, I’ve gotten lazy.

 

So I thought I should go back to basics and do some research. When I’m doing research, I’m a big notetaker, because that’s the only way I remember anything. This is a spruced up version of those notes in case you’re looking to put some more visual structure into your own work, or to just feel like you’re in the club when you’re looking at art. This is definitely not a comprehensive guide, but it’s what stuck with me.

 

The Tate defines composition as “the arrangement of elements within a work of art”

 

What makes good composition?

The qualities that make good composition seem to almost mirror the qualities that make good visual work more generally, which I pulled together a little while ago in poster form (below). The qualities most relevant to composition (with a little explanation) are the following:

  1. Proportion – how do “things fit together and relate to each other in terms of size and scale; whether big or small, nearby or distant”? This is the most obvious quality of composition.
  2. Emphasis/focus – where is the viewer’s eye drawn? Creating contrast and playing with balance, rhythm or movement can make certain elements of a piece stand out and appear more important.
  3. Balance & unity – do all of the elements work together? Symmetrical compositions instil a sense of order and calm (think Wes Anderson) whereas asymmetrical ones create more dynamic and active pieces.
  4. Rhythm & movement – what is happening in the image and how does it draw your eye? Leading lines and underlying shapes/tones can direct the viewer to focus on certain elements of give a sense that a piece is going somewhere at a certain pace.
  5. Pattern – do elements of the composition repeat? Using repetition can give clear structure or draw certain parts of an image together.
  6. Contrast – how do elements of the piece appear different? Contrast may come in many forms including hue, tone or scale and can create dynamics within a piece.

12 Basic Elements of Design

Tried and tested structures.

There are a number of “rules” in classical composition like using the golden mean or the rule of thirds. These seem to be less rules in the strict sense, but tried and true templates we can use to inform our own compositions. I’ve put together a visual guide to these templates/bits of composition inspiration.

Top tips

  • The rule of thirds works best in rectangles (not squares)
  • Aim for variety in the sizes and spaces between elements for a more dynamic composition – but there is a time and a space for super regular work.
  • As well as the scale/spacing of elements, also use colour and tone to draw the eye.
  • Use objects and light to point at the thing you want people to focus on.

 

So those are the bits of advice I’ve collected so far, but if any of you have any other top tips or have more formal art backgrounds and can help a girl out I’m all ears!

 

But for now I’m just going to try out what I’ve got in my illustration and by burgeoning photography practice.