
This probably should have been one of the earliest composition posts that I tackled, except that I think I always assumed it to be rather obvious. As I’ve examined numerous photos, including some of my own, I realize that its importance may need to be emphasized more, so let’s highlight point of focus.
This doesn’t simply mean choosing what the camera locks its autofocus onto. What I mean instead is a point within the image that immediately draws the viewer’s attention, that serves as the primary subject, or at the very least, an anchor for the remainder of the frame. The most prominent way that this is thwarted is with landscapes, where an entire scene is presented for the viewer without anything that displays prominence. Sometimes this works, but more often such a scene becomes much stronger with a single distinction therein, something that breaks the pattern, stands out, or attracts attention – a lone tree, a stream twisting through the snowfield, a moose visible through the mist.
Another situation that benefits is where the scene is complicated, crowded, or repetitive; a crowded dance floor, dense cityscape, or even a field of grain. Here, something that breaks the pattern or departs from the complication, in size, contrast, or sharpness of focus, can give the viewer something reliable to settle on while the confusion or pattern still conveys the conditions. People generally expect photos to present an immediate impression, a particular reason why they should be looking; the more striking, the better their reaction. If they’re unsure what they should be focusing on, the image will lack impact. This is not to say that an image cannot have a hidden surprise, and these can work very well. But it should always be distinguishable from what may appear to be simply a bad photo, and even the hidden subject should still possess some qualities of a focus point.

Some methods are more obvious: something noticeably taller in the frame, or differently colored, higher in contrast, or framed by the other elements (including just empty space.) Very useful is the ability to use a contrasting background to enhance the subject, remembering that photographs tend to flatten out and cause a lack of depth. Imagine that your image is made up of paper cutouts for every element – the main subject, the surrounding details, the background. If the subject and the background are too similar in appearance, it can become difficult to differentiate them, something that often doesn’t occur to us because our inherent depth perception makes the difference obvious when we view the scene before taking the photo. Sometimes, only a slight change in position is necessary to put our subject against a background that presents some contrast, making a frame or halo that immediately demands attention. Portrait photographers often use a small light directly behind the model that illuminates the edges of their hair from behind, creating a subtle glowing aura that makes the model stand out even more distinctly.
Another method is selective focus, especially useful for patterns. By picking just one element to focus upon and using a short depth-of-field (small f-number/large aperture,) the chosen element is sharp while everything else becomes softer, automatically drawing the eye towards the sharpest item in the image. This is most effective if the chosen subject is the only one that falls into that particular focus distance, so nothing else is as sharp.
It should be noted that it isn’t necessary that the chosen subject has a particular reason to be selected – just one flower out of an entire field works fine. The key is to give the viewer the unambiguous focal point; it doesn’t have to be different in any way. That said, it should be strong – don’t pick a bloom that is half-wilted, or a person with a peculiar expression (unless you want to convey discordance.)
Some factors works better than others, too. We respond very strongly to faces, and more so to eye contact. Smiles and laughter get our attention. An evolutionary trait with a strong effect is attentiveness, even if it’s not towards the camera. Someone that seems to be concentrating on something strongly causes us to become alert too, looking for the same potential danger. Even inanimate objects can provide a “face;” the bloom that gives us the most direct view is more attractive. The tallest mountain peak is a great anchor. The wave that is just beginning to curl stands apart from the rest. Some of these cannot seriously be called a subject, but they serve as a focal point anyway.
Where they fall in the frame is often important. While the Rule of Thirds is a bit suspect, it’s used often enough that viewers expect to see subjects there – these are good places to have the subtle focal points. Breaks in patterns, or a solitary subject where isolation is a key element, can be set much further away from the thirds points, of course using the remaining space to enhance that isolation. The center of the frame is often a bad place to put the focal point, because it is too direct – while it’s common for illustration (which means it’s seen fairly often here on the blog,) artistically it’s weak.

When other elements contribute to the focal point, this can become very dynamic. Lines (or a boardwalk) that lead across the frame, the attention of people or animals within the image, the dip in the treeline or the gap in the background coloration – these kind of things can be used to draw the viewer directly to the point of focus, including an exceptionally subtle one (more subtle than a lighthouse, even.) In some cases these elements create the point of focus, as we’re compelled to follow their guidance. They can also detract from a chosen point, as well; the wedding guest that is not watching the happy couple during the first dance weakens the effect, making us wonder what else is attracting their attention. A path that curves away from the sun, especially when it was leading toward it at first, gives a subconscious impression of rejection.
Light can also be used to produce a focal point – of course, this is used extensively by portrait photographers and especially film directors. While it can often be very hard to obtain just the light you might want in a natural setting, those lucky accidents can also be assisted by careful planning – the sun moves across the sky faster than you might think, meaning a choice sunbeam may be along with a little patience. This is especially true with light coming through leaves, but be warned, it disappears just as rapidly. Sunrise and sunset present the opportunity to plan these much better, since it’s easier to envision how the light will come through a break in the trees, rocks, or buildings, and easier to create an artificial break as well.
It’s not absolutely necessary to have a focal point in every image, and in many cases such a point will be obvious and require no real thinking. But it can help a lot to ask yourself, “What do I want people to pay attention to?” before selecting the vantage or framing, which may make the difference between a mediocre shot and a strong one.





















































Let’s start with some perspective. Everyone (who matters) knows the constellation Orion. Anyone interested in astronomy knows Orion is overflowing with cosmic goodness, aflame with nebulae and gases and new stars and all that jazz. To the naked eye and pretty much any non-telescopic photography attempt, Orion looks like what I’ve captured here: just stars, though a close look at the ‘dagger’ (ahem) gives some indication that they’re fuzzier (ahem) than just orbs (yes, I’m having fun, thanks for asking.) Ford Prefect is from a planet around that yellow star at upper left. Orion’s belt is/are the three stars almost vertical, right in the center of the image, and the dagger is/are the three stars extending diagonally towards the lower right. The dagger is actually a mess of stars and nebula, and in fact, most of the center of Orion is gas and dust and whatnot. The belt stars, however, really are just three stars, as everyone who remembers the dialogue from Men In Black knows. The thing is, to see all the fun stuff in detail requires not just a powerful telescope, but some fancy filters to select specific wavelengths, the emission spectra of hydrogen or oxygen or whatever, and a scope that counteracts the rotation of the Earth because long exposures are needed – the light is far too faint to capture otherwise. 


So, I did indeed brave the sunny, warm weather (which did not tax my sinuses half as much as yesterday) to chase a few shots, mostly by heading down to the river for a short while. I was primarily aiming to do some infra-red experiments, and did, but I took advantage of other conditions while I was there. Above, a common clearwing moth, also called a hummingbird moth (Hemaris thysbe) dives deep into a pinxterflower (Rhododendron periclymenoides.) These little buggers presented a difficult target because of their constant motion – they feed quickly and never land on the flowers, and I’m still after some really solid images of them. Quite likely, what it will take is setting up the camera in an ideal position just behind and over some choice blossom, and simply waiting it out – multiple flash units are probably a good idea.
Before the clouds started to roll in, I did a few landscape shots in infra-red against the clear sky, using several different filters. This particular one is the cheapo method, which is simply a piece of unexposed (developed) slide film, which blocks most visible light but passes infra-red quite well. It produces more of a color cast than other, professional filters, at least when used on certain digital cameras. All digital sensors are sensitive to infra-red, but many cameras include an internal filter to block the wavelengths, since it can result in overexposing subjects that reflect a lot of IR, such as foliage. Which is how I discovered that my old Canon Pro90 IS camera could do this – brightly lit leaves had a tendency to appear washed out. This filter not only gives some distinctive color differences even between different kinds of foliage, it passes the most light and requires the shortest shutter speed – which is not to say that shutter speeds, with any kind of IR filter, are reasonable. A tripod is a must, and exposure times usually run into several seconds. This is why the foreground leaves are blurry, since the breeze was significant today. And it occurs to me that I haven’t yet tried this filter on people to see the effect…
And finally, an effect I rather liked, this time using the Lee #87 polyester IR filter, which is claimed to start transmitting light above 730nm; in comparison to a 950nm filter that I have, I’m more inclined to say to it peaks at least as high as 850nm – the exposure times aren’t as long as the 950, but close, and the color transmission is almost as negligible. What you’re seeing here is the spillway out of the lake, between the two images above. The eight-second exposure aimed down from above the wall captured the froth at the bottom, moving enough to simply become blurred trails across the surface. There wasn’t much color to begin with, but this filter eliminates most of it anyway. The light needed to be bright, because without the reflected sunlight the bubbles would barely have registered, not staying in one place long enough to impinge on the sensor very strongly.
It’s Earth Day, the day we celebrate our planet’s independence from the Barren Hegemony of the Solar System! It was a hard fought battle, especially since there was no one to fight it, but we (well, not specifically us; the planet, anyway) persevered!










