Patterns in the Landscape

In this post I will put the history part of the blog aside for a moment, and talk instead about landscape photography in Italy. This is after all supposed to be a blog about history AND photography, but I do feel a bit diffident whenever it sounds as if I am offering advice on photographic technique. The reason is simple – there are many very talented photographers publishing their work on the internet and offering technical advice and it feels a bit presumptuous to be comparing myself to them, if only implicitly.

But recently I was looking at the work of a photographer who specialises in the man-made landscape, in particular scenes of urban decay, and accidental geometric shapes and patterns. You can find his YouTube videos here. The results are not always my cup of tea, but I found myself watching partly because he uses the same medium format camera as me (Fujifilm GFX 50R) and partly because I was fascinated by the amount of care he puts into composition. That got me thinking about one aspect of my photography that I do enjoy very much, which is looking for patterns, not in derelict industrial sites, but in the landscape.

And by a fortunate coincidence, it turns out that I have quite a few photographs of Italy that could illustrate this, taken on a range of film and digital cameras over the course of about twenty years. So here we go.

Shapes

The natural landscape is not orderly as a rule, or at least that’s not how we think of it. Of course agriculture can alter that, but occasionally nature does it by itself. Either way, your eye is drawn to apparent shapes, whether they are tricks of perspective, the result of human action, or just sheer chance.

Near Monterenzio — This picture and the next were both taken in the foothills of the Apennines, in Emilia-Romagna south of Bologna. The contrast between the mown wheat or barley and the green crop (which I think might be rapeseed) combined with the swooping curves of the hills to create a pleasing series of shapes. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar CF 150mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Near Montetortore — Near the village of Montetortore in Emilia-Romagna. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Planar C 80mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner (click to enlarge).

Near Pienza — In this photograph of the Val d’Orcia, taken from the walls of Pienza in Tuscany, a newly-harvested field contrasts with the green crops around it, while a huge thunderstorm brews in the background. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Planar C 80mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner (click to enlarge).

Sometimes nature provides the shapes itself. Taken near Misurina in the Dolomites. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar CF 150mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Dawn at La Morra — Here, near La Morra in Piemonte, the dawn light has reduced what would otherwise be a rather cluttered scene to something like a cardboard silhouette. Fujifilm X-Pro 3 digital camera, 100-400mm lens (click to enlarge).

Hut near Pagliare — In this photograph taken near Pagliare in Abruzzo, the strong diagonals of the mountainside are offset by the farmer’s tiny shed. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar C 250mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner (click to enlarge).

Repetition

Repetition is something that the brain responds to at a fairly basic level – you don’t need to think about it, because neurologically you’ve already noticed it before the higher levels of cognition have been engaged. Clearly something this fundamental must have evolved because it conferred a survival advantage, but I don’t profess to understand quite why.

Harvested field outside Pienza — Agriculture, whether ploughing or harvesting, is a great source of repetition in landscape photographs. Here the regular lines left after the harvest serve to accentuate the undulations of the land. Taken in the Val d’Orcia outside Pienza. Fujifilm GFX 50R medium-format digital camera, 32-64mm lens (click to enlarge).

Capella della Vitaleta — And here is a similar effect left by the plough, also in the Val d’Orcia. Horseman 45FA large format camera, Fujinon-W 125mm lens, Kang Tai 6x17cm rollfim back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on a Flextight Precision II film scanner (click to enlarge).

You can’t beat vineyards for repetition. These are near the town of Barbarano Vicentino, near Vicenza. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar C 250mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Val d'Orcia Belvedere — Sometimes morning mist can do even more, filling the valleys so that the higher ground is sculpted into a series of retreating silhouettes. Taken in the Val d’Orcia on the road between Pienza and San Quirico d’Orcia. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss sonnar C 250mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner.

A similar effect in the Monti Martani near Todi in Umbria. Fujifilm X-Pro 3 digital camera, 100-400mm lens (click to enlarge).

Dawn at Monti Martani — A similar shot of the Monti Martani. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar C 250mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Val d'Orcia — Morning mist again, in the Val d’Orcia. Canon EOS-3 35mm film camera, 100-400mm IS L lens (click to enlarge).

Leading the Eye

As a photographer, you want to be able to guide the viewer’s eye into a picture. Something that leads the eye (a road, a river, whatever) really helps a composition, giving it a feeling of depth, and turning what might have been an ordinary photograph into something a bit more special – perhaps something that poses questions. Where does the road (or river) lead? What is around the corner?