|
|
![]() Super Structures - An IntroductionMalcolm Birkitt
We live in them, work in them, socialise in them and at the end of the day we sleep in them. Yes, buildings play a central part in our lives, so it's only natural we should want to take pictures of them too. But what exactly is architecture, and how is it defined? According to one of my dictionaries, it is 'the art of designing and constructing buildings that are both useful and attractive.' That succinct description is the key to what separates architecture from other, lesser structures. Many buildings are useful - the house you live in is clearly useful, but is it architecture? Probably not in most cases, and often the only photographs you'll want to take of it are when it's time to involve the local estate agent. However many other buildings and structures are extremely aesthetic, and make stunning subjects for the camera. Just think of how impoverished the London skyline would be without the work of Sir Christopher Wren, or try to imagine Barcelona without the genius of Gaudi's Sagrada Familia towering over it. You can even find beauty in something as prosaic as the Humber Bridge or Thames Crossing. Wherever you look, there's good and bad structures, and there's no reason why you cannot take great shots of the better examples. You don't really need to know your Doric from your Ionic when confronted with a piece of classical architecture, but you do need to know how to tackle them photographically. That's the objective of this new series, so each month we'll be looking at different aspects of shooting buildings successfully. Of course, there is a school of thought that dictates that a proper 'architectural' photograph of a building should render its vertical sides exactly thus in the finished picture - that is, converging verticals are utterly frowned upon. In effect, the photograph shows the building with parallel sides, just like an elevation drawing. Sure, this is fine for architects - I should know as I used to be one - and their straight-laced clients. There are various methods, techniques and equipment to ensure that any building can be captured in this formal style.
One way to obtain true verticals in a photograph is to ensure the camera back is also bolt upright. If you tilt it backwards - to ensure the whole of the building is included in the frame - you'll notice those sides starting to converge. This effect is exaggerated when a wideangle lens is employed. The trouble is, from a street-level viewpoint, that's often the only way to get all the edifice into shot! Scout around to see if a higher viewpoint is available, such as a flat roof, multi-storey car park or even someone's handy window if you have a persuasive tongue. The ideal is to shoot from a point exactly half the height of the subject building - that way the camera back will be vertical too.
Another route to ensure perfect verticals is to hire or buy a specialised piece of equipment. One or two medium-format SLRs such as the Fuji GX680, and all large-format cameras, allow the position of the lens to be raised in relation to the film axis. This is the most useful of a range of technical 'camera movements' in terms of architectural pictures, as tall structures can now be pictured from lower positions without even a hint of convergence. A less expensive alternative, if you wish to stick with the popular 35mm format, is to use a perspective control or 'shift' lens. Several major SLR makers include optics of this description in their systems, and each allows a small, calibrated amount of lens rise or fall. Again the effect on the picture is to retain true verticals. providing the camera back is kept erect.
Actually most of us aren't too fussed whether the sides of a structure are parallel in the finished picture or not. In fact the most dramatic images often feature dynamic angles and viewpoints that ensure an exaggerated convergence of angles. Think of a low angle shot of a skyscraper soaring into the heavens, with the base of the building far broader than the top and you'll get the picture. I much prefer to think of 'architectural photography' as a far broader church than the formal style described in detail above, and have included some alternative visual approaches to back up that argument. There's absolutely no reason why the whole building or entire structure must be included in the frame - there's a host of different ways of making effective architectural images. Sometimes a single element or small detail is enough to make a strong picture in its own right. You might want to portray a building not just in isolation, but in context with others around it. Instead of revealing all the intricate detail most architectural pictures show, you might opt for a softer, more romantic approach to the subject by using fast, grainy film or soft focus techniques. In fact, for me almost anything goes, as long as it makes a good shot. What happens if the building you want to picture is away in the distance, and you cannot approach it closely because of some physical or security obstruction? One way to shoot in this instance is to make a frame for the main subject with some other elements you introduce in the composition. I've included two or three examples here to show how it's done. For the stately home image lit by early morning sunlight, I used the perimeter railings as an out-of-focus aid to concentrate the eye on the main subject - otherwise there's too much empty space.
For the formal study of Powis Castle, I deliberately moved several yards back from the position I first selected at the front of a ridge, to set the subject between greenery on either side - again a device to lead the viewer towards the important element of the scene. A overhanging branch above helped at the top of the image and prevent the sky area appearing too empty. I used a similar technique, known as 'dingleberry', to hold interest in the sky area of the busy town square scene.
|