Circles—and I use the term loosely to include ellipses and ovals—are compositionally powerful. But beware: relying on circles in your compositions can be dangerous.
Think of the way the language is used: A virtuous circle is a great thing, indicative of circular changes leading to improvement. In contrast, a vicious circle refers to a situation that just gets worse and worse.
Using a circle can be a visual trap. Once you are in the circle, how do you get out? What else is there to look at in the composition besides the circle?
These are true compositional dangers. But if you take the circle “by the horns” (so to speak) and embrace the peril along with the potentiality, circles can become an important part of the scaffolding that makes for compelling photography.
Backing up for a second, what exactly is the power of the circle?
Part of the power is that the eye is drawn to a circle in an image, particularly when the circle dominates the image. When you see a circle playing an important role in a photograph, it’s hard to look beyond the circle.
What are the other “power” characteristics of circles?
I’ve already mentioned that a circle can represent a closed system. In a closed system, the trends can be either good (virtuous) or bad (vicious).
Also keep in mind that a circle has no beginning and no end. This continuous nature of a circle is what makes virtuous and vicious feedback loops possible. Circularity also has other important consequences.
While there are sometimes exceptions, a circle often seems the same everywhere. Unlike shapes that are different when you rotate them, a circle rotated around its center point can still be just the same circle. This depends upon how symmetrical the circle is.
Another way of looking at circular geometry is that you can go around a circle forever. Think of the circle as a cosmic contribution to a virtual merry-go-round. Using circles in your photographic compositions adds a frisson of the amusement-park experience to your images.
When you make it back to the starting point of a circle, it’s time to begin again. Therefore, a circle can seem infinite. One way of thinking of this is to remember the classical motif of a serpent swallowing its own tail. There is no beginning, there is no end, and it goes on forever.
The idea of infinity is compelling enough. However, keep in mind that a circle can “drown out” all other shapes. When the eye sees a circle, nothing else may matter. The circle used in its broadest sense is such a compelling shape that it may preempt all other compositional gambits.
The danger in a composition involving a circle comes from the very potency of the shape (see “The Circle as Visual Archetype” on page 41). When a circle is present, who will think about, or look at, anything else?
A circle, as in a mandala, can represent the entire world. Indeed, as you can see when you look closely at mandalas that go back into the deepest antiquity, a circle can also represent the entire universe. (To find out more about the mandala shape, turn to page 49.) So circles as shapes come with great symbolic meaning. Use a circle, use it well, but don’t use it heedlessly.
The trick in making successful imagery that includes a circular shape is to use the power of the circle as strength without falling for the pitfalls of circular entrapment.
It’s worth making the effort to learn how to accomplish compositional goals with circles. Some successful compositions that use circles do so by:
Carl Jung (1875–1961) was a Swiss psychiatrist whose multi-disciplinary work spanned psychology, anthropology, archaeology, literature, philosophy, and religion. One of Jung’s contributions involves understanding the importance of the archetype.
The idea of the archetype goes back to the beginnings of humanity’s ability to tell stories, and in visual art, perhaps as far back as the paintings on the walls of the caves at Lascaux (roughly 20,000 years ago). Jung’s ideas about archetypes were based in part on Plato’s conceptualization of the universal (or primordial) pattern (circa 400 BCE).
The Jungian archetype is a universal theme or symbol that resonates generally. People respond to the archetype, whether or not they recognize it consciously, in some cases across culture and time.
Archetypes at the level of the collective unconscious can be found in religious art, fairy tales, and mythology from around the world. Jung thought that archetypes existed independently of world events, current politics, and even the specifics of culture. In addition, the true archetype has influence throughout the stages of each individual’s unique development, although the way the archetype is perceived might vary from culture to culture, and between different individuals.
The study of archetypes is a large subject. However, it’s well worth the attention of any artist, because “plugging into” archetypes makes for images that tap into the collective unconscious, which is one of the broader and most important goals of art.
To the extent that an archetype is visually referenced, the composition will have greater resonance with the viewer. This is true whether or not the archetype is consciously recognized, and in fact, may be more effective when there is no conscious awareness of the reference to the archetype.
Regardless of the theoretical Jungian framework of archetypes, when I look at a photograph that includes deep shadows I am aware at some level that the “dark side” of human nature is being referenced.
Keep in mind that archetypes usually work in a subliminal way. In other words, this can be a secret between the photographer and the viewer, and in some cases neither the photographer nor the viewer is actually aware of what is really going on with the archetype, even if they know that something is being touched at a deep level.
The viewer of your photo should not be saying to themselves, “Hey! That artist has tapped into an archetype!” Often the association of an image to the archetype is perceived unconsciously.
Art presents projective opportunities for adding personal assumptions to a universal symbol, in much the same way that a deck of Tarot cards provides symbolic characters and attributes that can be read in light of a personal situation.
Jung was himself a visual artist. Leaving aside the general validity of many of Jung’s ideas about the way the mind works, the concept of the visual archetype is important in photographic composition.
When it comes to visual archetypes, it is hard to think of any shape that is more fundamental than the circle. Indeed, if a composition strongly involves a circle, it is probably referencing an archetype. The circle as “world without end,” the circle as portal, the circle as wheel—one of the earliest, most important human inventions—and the mandala are some of the visual archetypes that are based on the circle.
In its simplest form, the circle dominates the composition. In this kind of photograph, the composition is about the circle. Something is happening within the circle. A dancer moves around a ring or a flower gone to seed forms a bud. All, or most, of the action takes place within the circle.
For the photographer, it’s important to recognize a composition that is “about the circle” when it appears. Recognition of a composition that is about a circle will help you clear the frame of distractions and make the circle big, bold, and evident to the viewer.
Note that compositions that are about the circle often involve “squaring the circle.” In other words, a composition that is about the circle is usually bounded by a square, and may often be presented in a square crop.
The opposite can also be true. If a circular composition cannot be framed as a square, but fits better as a rectangle, then maybe you should put the circle aside and emphasize other aspects of your composition.
What happens when you have a round composition that is almost circular? And what if other things besides the circle are going on?
It’s important to be able to step aside from the power of the circle and make the flourishes, lines, and shapes that are outside the circle important in their own right. A circle doesn’t always need to dominate!
An example of this kind of composition is the photograph of a traffic circle in Barcelona, shown on pages 38–39. This image was photographed from above at night. Certainly, the oval shape in the center of the composition—the fountain—is important. But that element could not stand on its own in the composition. Therefore, the cars in motion creating lighted swooshes “outside the circle” were significant and needed to be treated with care. When making the image, getting the balance of the car taillights was far more time consuming and difficult than centering the circular fountain.
A doorway into a different world—or a portal—is magical. Creating portals is one of the things I strive for in my photographic compositions.
While portals are not necessarily circular, many are composed of circles or ellipses (for example, check out the cave entrance in the photo on page 43).
It’s important when working with composition to take advantage of the suggestion of a magical portal. Other worlds can be good or bad, happy or sad, calm or apocalyptic. Whatever they are, alternate universes are fascinating and different. We look to portals to guide us in our lives in this world through their differences from our world, and to suggest what might possibly happen here in the future.
If the artist is a magician revealing what lies behind the shadows—and this is an important aspect of being an artist—showing portals is one of the most important tools of the trade. Emphasizing the presence of spiritual gateways in a photo is an easy and great way to show the possibility, as Leonard Cohen said, of a “crack where the light gets in.”
In Eastern religions, a mandala may represent paradise, deities, or sacred spaces, or simply be used as an aid for meditation. The hallmark of a mandala is its circularity. Mandalas are always based on a circular shape. This helps explain why the mandala (and the circle) is one of the oldest shapes used for human artistic expression. The shape stands alone as a symbolic beginning without end, an end without a beginning.
Once you’ve embarked on a mandala, it’s often hard to integrate the circle of the mandala with an ordinary non-circular composition. Conversely, a rectilinear composition, such as a landscape, doesn’t usually merge easily or neatly into the infinite and endless possibilities conveyed by the swirling mandala.
So mandalas tend to be part of their own genre, and a thing unto themselves. It’s worth taking a hard look at the mandala for the purity of the circular shapes involved.
I’m not saying it is easy to construct mandalas using photography. In fact, this is a hard shape to integrate photographically; however, it is worth doing for the compositional exercise, and for the occasional extraordinary result.
My own mandalas are primarily created using flower petals on a light box (you can see one opposite), although of course I have used other materials as well. I’ve also experimented with cropping, and using a circular fisheye lens to create a mandala-like effect.
Your challenge is double-barreled: Try to learn about the power of the mandala so that this shape can be integrated into your own compositions. Then, practice creating images that consist entirely of a mandala.
It is worth learning about mandalas both in their art-historical context and in their usefulness as an adjunct to modern photographic composition. Creating successful photographic mandalas can be quite pleasing, and they will likely find an enthusiastic audience.
In face of the overwhelming power of the circle as a compositional symbol, how do we find balance?
The answer, as in many things in life, involves clear communication. As a photographic artist, if you know that you have invoked the power of the circle, you should do so consciously. The fact that you are doing so with forethought by no means implies that the viewer of your image is aware of this.
Balance in circle compositions means either surrendering to the circle—acknowledging the circle as the key component of the composition—or complementing the circle with additional flourishes and swooshes that defy the centric nature of the circle.