January 30, 2010 Telling a story with composition: Installment 107
I made this image of an abandoned power plant at the
historic Kennecott Mine, deep in the Alaskan wilds. I use the art of
photographic composition to help tell my story. The geometric patterns created by
sunlight striking the rooftops of Kennecott's vast but empty power plant,
recall the glory days of early 20th Century heavy industry. These patterns are
also known as rhythmic repetition -- another method I use to compose my
photographs. In this case I use three different forms of rhythm: repeating roof
lines carry the eye through the picture from front to back, repeating diagonals
create a series of implied dynamic visual thrusts from corner to corner, while
a series of vertical smoke stacks marches across the top of the frame in
varying sizes. Rows of broken windows continue the flow of rhythmic shapes
within my frame, defining the ghost of a great industrial cathedral, slowly
decaying deep in the mountains of Alaska. Its time ran out when the last copper
train left Kennecott in 1938.
About
this blog:
When Ragan
Communications launched this site in 2007, CEO Mark Ragan invited me to write
this regular blog on visual literacy. We now stand at 107 installments, and I
intend to continue offering them here as a service to communications
professionals. I illustrate this blog with my own images of people at work
around the world. (Most of these photos are part of my multi-gallery cyberbook
on expressive digital travel photography and photojournalism at http://www.pbase.com/pnd1)
I base these commentaries on what I have learned during my thirty-eight years
of training communicators in visual literacy.
As director of The
Douglis Visual Workshops, I have presented more than eleven hundred workshops
to more than 10,000 organizational communicators. I have also been writing
columns on photojournalism for the International Association of Business
Communicators since 1964, and have contributed columns and articles to many
Ragan publications over the years. In 2009, I produced a book through Blurb.com
entitled "Images and Ideas," featuring 160 of my photographs paired
as ideas. (Link to info is on my profile page.)
Mark has also encouraged
me to use this blog as a means of providing info on my training services. I now
offer all of my training programs as one-on-one tutorial workshops in digital
imaging and photographic communication. These tutorials provide flexibility in
cost, length, and content, extend from one to four days, include hands-on
projects and intensive field work, and can be adjusted to cover everything from
basic digital photography skills and photo-editing, to photographic expression.
I offer these tutorials in Phoenix, Arizona, on dates selected by participants.
You can request information, or schedule training, by sending an email to me at
pnd1@cox.net. I welcome your questions and comments, and will respond
accordingly. Thanks for following this blog
You make a good point here, Brian, about the relationship between subject and context in journalism. If I had intended to create and use this image as a stand alone work of photographic expression, it would certainly speak of decay and help symbolize the beginning of the end of the great industrial era. If,on the other hand, I had intended to use this image to help tell the specific story of the end of the Kennicott mine as a work of journalism, it would also require the additional support of verbal journalistic context -- headline, caption, and text and perhaps additional images as well. I think this particular photograph would certainly add a special dimension to a journalistic story featuring this very special place. Thanks, too, for adding your personal insights -- your dangerous climb up the inside of the main mill building sends chills up the spine. And thanks as well for the link to more info.
I like the composition a lot and the image is compelling. However, having lived somewhat nearby in Glennallen, Alaska, and been to Kennicott town many times (and kudos for spelling the mine the correct way, with an "e," vs. the town name!) I have to disagree about the photo telling the story.
The story of the Kennecott mine is inextricably linked to its place in the surrounding wilderness. Your image, while nicely done, could have been taken just about anywhere. It could be a decaying industrial relic anywhere in Pennsylvania or the midwest. By removing the context you remove the storytelling/photojournalistic ability of the photo. When standing gazing at the size of the Kennecott mill one can't help but juxtapose the industrial revolution-era buildings with the raw wilderness surrounding it.
When I was younger, and the town site was little-visited and not protected by the NPS (1980s), some friends of mine and I climbed from the base of the main mill building up to the top, inside. Quite an adventure (and pretty foolish given it's age). As an aside, those interested in learning a bit more about this unique piece of Americana can read a good history at http://www.alaskagold.com/copper/mcarthy/mcarthy.html
Thanks, Drew -- the scale of this power plant is monumental.You are right --its ups and downs indeed imply a range of mountains. I made some images of this old plant with actual mountains in the background as well, but their natural beauty detracted from the story I was trying to tell here.
