Unlike the elements of line and colour, space is always a consideration for artists. A work can exist without line; one need only consider the colour field painters for whom colour is paramount. Likewise, a work can exist without colour; one need only consider works that are black and white. Consider a drawing done using charcoal or graphite. It is devoid of colour. (Do recall that in art black and white are not considered colours; they cannot be found on the colour wheel.) However, a work simply cannot exist without space.
To begin with, in a composition space can be regarded as positive space or negative space. Referring back to our definition of subject two weeks ago, when the subject is a person or object it can be regarded as the positive space within the composition. In the case of a composition made up of a floral arrangement, the subject and positive space of the painting is the floral arrangement. Therefore, the negative space is the space that surrounds and is within the subject. In our example of a floral arrangement, the artist may paint the negative space a neutral gray so as not to distract from the subject.
However, the negative space can be ‘activated’. Recall, Sensual Form by Aelisha Garnett-Williams which we looked at two weeks ago also. In that composition, the female figure and the leaves occupy the positive space. Whereas, the spaces around and in between that do not constitute either the female or leaves are the negative space. Furthermore, Garnett-Williams ‘activated’ that space, making it more interesting by adding lines which she created by using her gouge (a carving tool) to remove wood from the surface in a meticulous and repetitive manner.
In addition to positive and negative space, the artist may need to think about the foreground, middle ground, and background spaces. In naturalistic paintings and drawings, these three are key considerations. By not carefully attending to these, the artist intending to paint or draw a naturalstic scene will run into problems communicating depth and the illusion of real space. Therefore, the artist is likely to divide the picture plane – the flat surface on which the work is done – into an identifiable foreground, middle ground, and background. The foreground occupies a band at the bottom of the canvas or other two-dimensional surface. In this area, sharp lines, clearly defined shapes, complex textures, and warm and intense colours will be visible. Meanwhile, the area occupying the band that is the background will be characterised by hazy lines, grayed lines, indistinct shapes, simple textures, cooler colours, and neutral or less intense colours. The size of objects will also decrease as they move between the foreground and background. The middle ground is, as the name implies, will show objects in states that are halfway between the treatment given in the foreground and background. Therefore, in the middle ground lines will not be as sharp as the foreground yet not as hazy as those occupying the background. These considerations are all part of what is termed atmospheric perspective.
As a consequence of mediating how things look in the three zones of the composition, the artist is able to give the illusion of depth – that some objects/things are closer to the viewer than others in a manner that simulates how we see. Furthermore, the artist may choose to employ one-point or two-point perspective to add to the illusion of depth. While perspectival devices may be employed to give the illusion of space within a composition, they may be ignored for subjective handling of the picture plane.
In Leevon Brummel’s Risen, the artist organised space subjectively. The positive and negative spaces are intertwined and it is impossible to determine where one ends and the other begins. There is also no effort to distinguish zones (foreground vs background) using the devices I have thus far explained. Instead, Brummel has used lines created by the edges of shape to lead the eye into the composition to a point just right of center where a figure can be recognised. The figure appears to make a sudden deep lunge forward with arms extended and raised above its head. The head of the figure is thrown backward as one would expect if the eyes are following the movement of the arms upwards. Surprisingly, the arms appear to furl and unfurl in the space above. The body, supported by strong legs, moves within space and leaves traces of its movement in space. I feel I am watching a dancer or a small troupe of dancers carve up nebulous space with their strong energetic bodies. Beautiful!
The palette (the arrangement of colours) of Risen is pared down to green so we are forced to focus on the repetition of lines defining shapes and the rhythm these lines and shapes create. I can hear music. But it is faint because I am taken aback by the athleticism and beauty of the bodies. I imagine spotlights beaming from the floor and towards the floor, moving as the bodies move in a complementary dance. While the figure off-center is our focal point, our eye does not rest there for long. Our eyes are taken around the composition following a rhythm we see and feel, perhaps more than we hear. Our eyes are taken around the composition to investigate the picture plane by the curved lines which repeat rhythmically the curve of the central figure’s torso. Clearly, thinking about space is supremely important and cannot be avoided if one is to compose a successful picture or other work of art.
In the next feature, we will discuss Unity and Variety.
Akima McPherson is a multi-media artist, art historian, and educator.
