Sunday, 12 March 2023

Drawing Observational Oscillations

Durer

For hundreds of years the image above by Durer has represented an idea of the artist making objective drawings. At the core of the idea is the need to keep your eye steady, in this case by having an adjustable column with a pointed end that is fixed to the drawing table. This fixed point being essential if you are to be able to accurately trace what you can see. In the image above we also have a grid of I presume fine thread, which is stretched across the frame through which the artist looks at the world, a grid that is repeated by the artist drawing another one over the horizontal surface on which the artist draws. The artist then copies what is seen through the vertical grid of threads onto the horizontal gridded drawing surface, using the matching of these two grids as a guide. It is as if the observed image floats towards the grid of threads that crosses the frame and is trapped there, flattened so that the artist can peel it off and lie it flat on the table.

Durer's model reduced to a diagram

I have for many years been dissatisfied with this model and although I'm very aware that since the time of Cezanne, many artists have left this concept behind, it tends to be still influential because of its relationship to the camera.

The inverted image of the candle is captured by the photographic film instead of Durer's grid

In the image above, a camera obscura is converted into a camera by replacing its back wall with a photosensitive surface that will become a photograph after processing. It is the lens, or pinhole that both focuses the image onto this surface and inverts it, a situation that reflects the human eye's ability to focus an image in the same way. The diagram clearly shows that the inverted image still retains a 1 to 1 set of relationships between the object that is projected and the screen it is projected on to. 

The relationship of points of a projected object to its projection using Durer's device

The relationship of points of a projected object to its inverted projection using an imaginary lens placed between the object and the screen

If Durer's apparatus was to be converted into a camera, a box would need to be built in front of the screen like so:

The woman this man is trying to look at is far too close to the tracing screen, so in order to put a camera body in place she has been pushed back to make room. The drawing being made by the man would of course now be upside down.
A camera in effect works by placing a lens that both focuses and inverts the image between the object and the screen it is projected onto. The eye of course works in a similar way. 


The lens' ability to focus an image onto the back of the eye

One thing that is clearly apparent is the fact that the back of the eye is curved, and the image has to be curved to fit. The camera like the eye inverts the image, our brains re-inverting it for everyday use, the observer of a photograph is in effect turning it upside down to see it 'the right way up', but we rarely think of this because we usually only see the image after it has been processed. However going back to Durer's idea, we can see why at the time it seemed like a clear advance. There was little consistency to spatial representation and artists did what they needed to do to show what they wanted to show. In the image below surfaces are tilted in various ways so that we can see what is on them. 

Both tabletops are visualised using what we now call cabinet projections

But Durer was working at a time when perspective was the new toy on the block and in comparison earlier projection ideas, such as cabinet projection, seemed simplistic. When using perspective, a cube much more obviously has a front and a back, its spatial position is clear. 

A cabinet projection and a perspective projection

In the perspective projection the front of the cube remains the same, but the orthogonals  converge toward a vanishing point instead of being parallel, so the back face of the cube appears smaller than the front. The interesting word is of course 'appears'. A cube's sides are always the same size, that is part of its definition. The cabinet projection is not so nailed down as the perspective and visually the front and back often flip between each other. As soon as you move into the world of the cabinet projection things become visually much more active and because of this I have found its ambiguous spaces much more conducive to being able to visualise certain aspects of the scan of looking than traditional perspectives. 



You can of course add secondary information to try to pin one reading rather than another, in the drawings above a dotted line suggests less visual weight, so that the front face of the cube is seen first of all at the bottom left and then in the lower drawing at the top right. 

The eye is usually accompanied by its twin, so every image is duplicated but from a slightly different viewpoint. It is also impossible to keep your head still and your eyes flicker from left to right and up and down constantly as they sweep for constantly changing information. Therefore the idea of a fixed image reflecting how we actually see becomes very suspect. A basic cube, is therefore much more likely to be perceived as a complex of layered bits of information, as represented by the drawing on the right below. 

A Necker Cube (left) and layers of cube information (right)

The Cabinet projection of a cube is known within the discipline of visual psychology as a Necker Cube.* Psychologists are fascinated by the ambiguity of read, the either or situation that the brain projects onto the image. As I look at adding into the situation the shifting viewpoints and doubling of the eyes, this either or situation becomes even more complex and an interwoven space becomes more of a possibly. This is a space that is full of possibilities, points of reference are everywhere and these points are what for myself become a sort of visual battery. Out of the flux of looking will emerge an image, not so much trapped and fixed into place as in perspective, but something that oscillates into view, that vibrates into existence. 
 
A representation of a reconstructed view of Durer's drawing

As you can see in the image above there are two eyes and these eyes are flickering over the scene that is being represented. The drawing below is of a plastic dinosaur observed during a walk through woods. It was drawn in a sketchbook with a dip-in pen. The time taken to make the drawing was about 7 or 8 minutes and I was crouching down to see the situation, so my drawing book's position was rested on a very wobbly supportive knee. 

Pen and ink drawing made from observation
A representation of the tracking of looking made from the observational drawing above

I tried to re-trace the looking that had gone on when making the small drawing of the dinosaur, as I began to do so I realised that the image began to disappear back into the world that it emerged from. This was an interesting conclusion to a process of thinking about looking, what was a diagrammatic representation becoming an active, rather than a passive image, its final appearance perhaps being due to a ghost memory of a Daniel Libeskind drawing, a memory that had long ago lodged itself into my visual memory and which I'm often reminded of when trying to be more technical in my approach to making drawings. 

Daniel Libeskind 

Libeskind's drawings are like layers of architectural memories. They operate as if several transparent sheets of tracings were laid over each other and retraced as one image. By trying to recreate the eyes' activity when making a drawing, I realised I was also laying one memory over another. The tracking diagram in effect freezing recovered lost actions into a drawing space. 

The final image from the observational tracking sequence

Gradually I found myself adding more and more layers to my own drawings, until they began to oscillate with their own energy fields, as in the image directly above.  

My earlier posts on visualising energy flow are hopefully easier to understand if read in conjunction with this post. I had in one of them referred to the idea that once a drawing had been used to capture various visual and invisible energy flows, that it in effect stored the energies recorded like a battery. These energies could then be released and their charges perhaps harnessed to other uses. Could for instance this way of thinking about drawing be linked to how electroplating works? The diagram below is also a cabinet projection. For copper electroplating for instance, surfaces are hung in a copper ion solution, see. I'm trying to stretch my head around a possible metaphor about energy conversion here and the results will come out more in the objects I'm making. This is not about scientific logic, its some sort of material poetry. 

A basic electro plating system

As I think around the issues connecting energy flow with drawing metaphors, I'm also thinking about the possible development of my more sculptural work into more process orientated directions. I'm also very aware that these approaches to aesthetic 'meaning' are about story telling and that it is the seductive power of the narrative that drives the work as much as the material languages uncovered. If I decide a drawing or any other artwork operates like a battery, then at some point I will begin telling a story designed to convince myself that this is a metaphor that works. This is a form of poetic activity and non of the decisions made are actually verifiable or measurable or academically valid. As a reminder to myself about this fact, not long ago I wrote a proposal for a journal article, entitled, 'Drawings as aesthetic transducers' based on some of the ideas that I have been thinking about in relation to energy flow and batteries.  My feedback, on what was not accepted as a publishable article, was that I must make sure that my paper's claims are presented much more clearly as a hypothesis or as metaphorical expression. I should have clarified for the reader that the hypothesis is only valid as legitimate poetic inspiration for the act of drawing, and that I must not risk looking for any sort of scientific validity for the process." This was a useful reminder that these are just ideas, and as such don't have any academic validity. Even so I would argue that as ideas begin as poetry, and out of poetry new possibilities will often be released, that it was a worthwhile exercise. As an idea it could not stand up to scientific scrutiny but it is an idea nevertheless and one designed to change the way we might think about looking at a drawing. So how does this help you may ask? I suppose I'm suggesting that at times you will need you follow your own logic and that even when other people don't see it as being understandable, that doesn't mean you give it up or discard it. It may well take you somewhere others have never been and that is as far as I'm concerned validation in itself. 

*The Necker cube is used in Robert J. Sawyer's 1998 science fiction novel 'Factoring Humanity'. In the novel the term "Necker" is used as a verb, meaning to switch thinking from one perspective or form of perception to another.

See also:



Sunday, 5 March 2023

Hanging work for an exhibition

 
The Shadow Gap

Every year students and staff debate over the hanging of work. So, before we hit exhibition season some things to consider.

Hanging drawings and paintings is about the construction of a very shallow space for thin objects to be experienced within. Central to an understanding of this space, is the fact that physically and perceptually all our earth bound experiential spaces are 'anisotropic'. I.e. these spaces exhibit properties with different values when measured in different directions. For those of us that inhabit a giant physical object such as the planet Earth, this means that the experiences we have of upwardness are very different to the experiences we have of downwardness, mainly because of the effects of gravity. Most exhibition spaces will depend on walls, thin objects, designed to be able to combat the effects of gravity and it is therefore the wall itself that will be of initial concern. *

If you are ever concerned with running a professional gallery space you will at one time or another probably have an argument about the need for a 'shadow gap' and the shadow gap is all about how we think about visual weight.  So what is this about? 

Bauhaus teaching was based on a return to fundamental principles of visual language. Artists such as Paul Klee made diagrams to clarify what was happening and then later theorists such as Rudolf Arnheim, attempted to take these ideas and refine them further. 

Paul Klee

As you can see from Klee's drawing above, all our experiences are first of all experiences that have to respond to a force that drags everything towards the centre of the Earth. (Plummet and balance). However, as Klee points out there are also areas of freer movement and dynamism. Rudolf Arnheim wrote several books trying to explain in detail how this works, but before we look at what he had to say, perhaps we need to re-look at our wall. 
Wall with shadow gap

A wall with no visual break between itself and the floor is phenomenologically more 'real' than without. It exerts its 'presence' and it has 'weight'. If you add a skirting board, this brings to the situation as Klee puts it, 'a 
freer movement and dynamism'. The skirting board can be thought of as the cuff at the end of your shirt sleeve, it visually finishes off a length of material, it zips around the edge and forms a visual stop to a vertical fall. However in order to do this it includes an extra physical element and in doing so, adds visual clutter. 

Wall with and without skirting.

If you are a sculptor, the wall meeting the floor without a gap is fine, especially if your work is about the reality of the materials used and their relation to gravity. In sculptural terms, the skirting board looks naff because it is trying to hide the reality of the situation. However in a decorative interior, where the walls are often thought of as a decorative fantasy, the skirting and as it extends itself, the dado, may well be essential. The modernist ideal begins with a horror of decoration, (places where germs can hide), and it espouses a truth to material aesthetic, a sort of 'what you see is what you get' aesthetic sensibility. However, the 'White Cube' of an exhibition space, we were all taught by 
Brian O'Doherty is not neutral, so even before we get to hang anything on these walls, we enter a contested space, one that the shadow gap debate highlights as an oscillating physical and spiritual drama. Without it a wall exerts its full visual weight, with it the wall is 'floated' into a more aesthetic or contemplative space. Some artists regard their work as communicating initially via a certain 'objectness' or a physical presence, some regard their work more as a window within which they would like an audience to contemplate an idea. Choice of wall and where an object goes on that wall, is therefore vital to their aesthetic sensibility. 

The skirting board 'framing' the wall.

If you are to regard the wall as both a physical reality and also as a special space within which other 'aesthetic' rules apply, the shadow gap can facilitate this. On the one hand it introduces no new physical element into the situation, except 'a gap'. This gap visually separates the wall from the floor and the only other time we see this happen is when weight is supported by other things. 

A large object with shadow gaps between the edges of a pallet's wooden supports

Normally if we removed the wooden blocks that hold up the box it will drop down, but if we do and it doesn't drop, we have a situation whereby something invisible is holding it up and this is important as it opens a question in the mind, perhaps a small one, but one that questions gravity and weight and our perceptual awareness. "Could it be", our brain asks of the shadow gap, "that this wall is floating?" A question that is both a physical one and a metaphysical one, which is why sometimes the shadow gap can work for both types of work. It is a very contested thing and no one has ever come up with a definitive solution. 

You have probably already worked out that different types of images or paintings, need to be constructed on different types of surface and that you can assert or undermine the physicality of the work you are showing, by first of all giving attention to the wall against which the work will sit. But what sort of attention? Surface texture, lighting, dimensions, colour, proportion or edge quality, all of these things will visually shape our experience. For Rudolf Arnheim everything seen is part of a visual field of forces and these forces are attractors that force us to look in certain ways. Therefore all the formal elements that underpin visual thinking can be bundled together as the various elements that make up fields of visual force dynamics. 

Rudolf Arnheim believed that perception and thought act reciprocally. If he was looking at our wall he would probably direct our attention to the diagram below of the visual forces at play.

Fields of attractive force around a square figure 


If we are faced with just a square wall with nothing attached to it, Arnheim would first of all visualise the forces working as concentric circles emanating out from the centre. However he would point out that at the same time we have an awareness of verticality, hence a series of vertical lines of force operate in relation to the vertical edges of the wall and horizontal ones in relation to top and bottom. Thus energy both radiates from a centre and moves horizontally and vertically. New centres begin to radiate out when new moments of awareness come into focus. For instance the corners of the wall are dynamic spots because a strong horizontal meets a strong vertical. These are the wall's radiating forces and are what we disturb when we begin hanging work. We in effect puncture the dynamics by causing changes in visual weight as we bring in work to put onto the wall.

As soon as you began putting anything onto the wall, Arnheim would probably direct your attention to the gestalt theory of visual balance. 

Gestalt theory of visual balance

As you can see from this, Arnheim if hanging images on the wall, would look at balance in relation to an invisible fulcrum. If applied to a wall and its hang, you might have a situation such as the one below. The larger tall rectangle is closer to the centre because it has more visual weight and therefore it can be balanced by a smaller square further off centre. 
The invisible fulcrum is central to the width of the wall

However if the smaller square begins to exhibit an extra visual quality, such as a colour, this changes its visual weight. In order to balance this, the larger rectangle has to move to the right.
A less colour saturated larger rectangle balancing a highly colour saturated smaller square

However this does not take into account our intuitive awareness of gravity or the full vector effect in relation to the fields of attractive force in the diagram further above. 

Looking at our intuitive awareness of gravity first; the spacing of a frame around an image often takes that into account. In "Framing Pictures" by J.T. Burns, it states that a margin around a picture should be 7.5 cms at the top and sides and 8.8 cms at the base. The reason for not having the margin equal on all four sides is explained like so: "The extra width at the bottom creates an optical balance without which the base appears to be narrower than it really is." (p.40) In 'An Introduction to Picture Framing' by Vivien Frank, the suggested dimensions of the sides and top are given as 8 cms, and the bottom 9 cms. (p. 30) and Peter Bingham's "Picture Framing" states, 'if a mat is cut with all its borders equal in width, the bottom border will appear narrower than the top. This is an optical illusion, but one that needs to be compensated for.' (p.34) Non of these books on framing try to explain how or why this 'optical illusion' exists. 

Because everything on the planet has a deep relation to gravity, particular forms have come about. In order to rise up against gravity, rather than crawl along the ground, human beings, like so many moving animals have evolved with bi-lateral symmetry. If you want to stand erect, you need to align yourself to the plumb-line of gravity. Imagine a wall trying to keep standing if it was built off vertical. If a wall is built upright or on flat ground, the centre of gravity (blue dot) is directly above the centre point of the wall's foundations (yellow dot), so the wall is stable. But if a wall is built on sloping ground, the centre of gravity is no longer above the centre of the base. Now gravity (red arrow) creates a movement (green arrow) that tips the wall over. The higher the wall, the greater the mass above the centre of gravity, the greater the turning force and the more chance the wall will collapse. Bilateral symmetry allows the wall and ourselves to stand up tall without having to have a wide base. 


We know this right down to our bones, because this is why we are the shape we are and all that effort to rise up, has also resulted to our main sense organs being located as far up as they could be. 
A six foot high human in relation to a 12 foot high wall

However, because of the power of gravity, all the bone engineering evolution that has been undertaken over millions of years has only allowed us to raise our sense organs up a few feet. Very good diet has seen the average height increase recently, but even so the average male height in the UK is only 5ft 9in and the average female height is now 5ft 3in. Therefore the figure in the diagram above is slightly too tall even for a male, but the big issue doesn't change. Even if we were looking at the world's tallest man, Sultan Kösen, who is 8 ft 2.82 in tall, his eyes cannot be higher above the ground than 8 feet. Our main visual awareness of gravity influenced indications is in that area below the eyes, and as we look up, and up and up, we will of course eventually be able to see as far as the sun or the stars, an almost in comparison, infinite distance. We look down and there are limits, and within those limits we are also used to looking for things that might effect us. Because of gravity, a large part of the active world lies close to the ground and here we might find snakes.
Psychologically this has shaped the way we think. The amount of blue sky we can see can be related to our moods. We can feel oppressed or fenced in on dark days with low cloud cover. It is conversely exhilarating to climb to the top of a hill and look down upon the world. When we feel down or depressed we can tend to walk with our heads down, but when excited and happy we keep our heads up. 

All of this relates back to the wall that we are about to hang work on and why framers like to leave slightly more space at the bottom of the image. I remember going to Glasgow School of Art for one of their degree shows back when the Macintosh Building hadn't burnt down. One of the first things I noticed was that the walls that had been erected for the show were 12 feet high. I had only seen this once before for a degree show and this was at Chelsea back in the late 70s. Two vertical 8 by 4 ft boards, had been topped by a horizontal one. Both Chelsea and Glasgow prided themselves on the professionalism of their presentation and the extra height changed everything when it came to the actual experience of the work.  
Increasing the height of the wall

I understand that it is not always realistic or affordable to increase wall height, but if you can include wall height in with your presentation thinking, such as stipulating that you need to show on a wall of at least x feet high, make sure you do so. 

The extra height gives the exhibition space the potential to become psychologically spiritually uplifting, at 8ft it is still firmly rooted into our human space, 
Sultan Kösen would for instance find it level with his eyes. At 12 feet the walls are tall enough to visually and therefore mentally, release us from gravity's attraction. I.e. if you have any control over the situation, make sure the walls you show on are of a decent height. On a smaller scale, if you are framing an image, think about lifting it visually by giving more space below the image than above. 

The new position of the two rectangles makes us more aware of the lower part of the wall, which may or may not be appropriate to the work; which now brings us back to those 'fields of attractive force'. 

Ian Davenport

Starting at the bottom of the wall, work such as Ian Davenport's is so gravity conscious that the wall against which it can be shown cannot have shadow gaps. The verticality of the paint stripes literally runs downwards, because that is the way the paint runs. The visual dynamics of the work are compressed into a rectangle with a broken bottom edge. The painting, in effect is treated as you would a sculpture. 

John McCracken

I first saw John McCracken's work in the 'Art of the Real' exhibition at the Tate Gallery in the late 1960s. His paintings were solid blocks of colour and he simply lent them against the wall. Notice in the image above the gallery has given the wall against which the work rests a shadow gap. This allows the work two contradictory readings. It has reasserted its 'objectness' by becoming like a plank lent against a wall, but this is not just any wall, this is a gallery wall, more weightless than a normal one, subject to aesthetic regard, thus elevating the blue into the realm of colour field painting and other 'painterly' considerations. McCracken put it like this, "I see the plank as existing between two worlds, the floor representing the physical world of standing objects, trees, cars, buildings, [and] human bodies, ... and the wall representing the world of the imagination, illusionist painting space, [and] human mental space."

It is very useful to compare McCracken's use of the wall/floor angle with Chris Ofili's. Ofili often used to rest his images on hard dried elephant dung that had a varnish applied over it. This was of course symbolically important, but by raising the work from the floor in this way the paintings were given a gap or space between themselves and the floor, therefore although the dung gives the paintings associated earthy weight, they claim affinity to the wall, as McCracken put it, to "the world of the imagination, illusionist painting space, the human mental space." 
However Ofili's work is figurative, 'No Woman, No Cry' is a portrait of a real mother, and although the artist has only painted the top half of her body, the rest of her can in the mind be seen as extending down into the ground beneath the two balls of elephant dung; balls that claim the ground for a uniquely African animal, a ground from which historically this woman could make a claim as coming from. 

The compositional effect of incomplete figures within an image, complicates the lever system that is used by the gestalt theory of visual balance. As Arnheim puts it, 'the balancing of weights within a painting does not depend simply on the purely quantitative extent of the areas....but rather on the weight and location of the centres supplied by the visual objects....If, however, the given parts of an object point compellingly toward a centre outside the frame, that centre, although not seen, will participate with its weight and location in the play of compositional forces.' (Arnheim, 2009, P.62) Arnheim was writing about composition within a painting, but exactly the same thing applies to the balancing of images when constructing the composition of a wall of paintings.

Perhaps before we begin to move our painting onto the wall, we should return to the idea of the height of human beings. The three paintings we have just looked at all had a clear relationship with the floor as well as the wall. They made us aware of our feet as well as our heads. When we look at a free floating image, whether its centre is above or below our centre of vision, is going to be an important part of the experience. So, going back to the height statistics, the average male 5ft 9in and average female 5ft 3in, average height is therefore 5ft 6in and average eye level is approximately 3 inches below that at 5ft 3in. Which means that anything above 5ft 3 inches requires a person of average height to be looking upwards. This, it seems to me causes an immediate problem. We are not all of average height and if my personal experience is related to my height, an experience designed for someone not my height will be wrong for me. 

Athena Cooper exhibits work in 'Can You See Us Vancouver?' 
The hanging height was decided upon by the featured artists, who were all wheelchair users 

The fact is at Leeds Arts University the majority of people looking at the walls will be female, so should the height for eye level be 5 feet? Or is eye level the wrong way to think about a chosen height? If you go online you will find that the golden rule for hanging a picture is to have the centre of the image at 57 inches. The website I looked at goes on to say, "this reflects the standard eye-height of the average person, and is used as a standard in most art galleries and museums." Which is an interesting claim as it suggests average height is only 60 inches or 5 feet tall. For a variety of reasons 57 inches is often the museum standard and a measuring stick cut to 57 inches was at one time always available for use in the studio whenever we were hanging work and any deviation from that as a centre had to be carefully argued for. 

Centre hang at 57 inches on an 8 feet high wall

By using the 57 inch rule and centring everything we get what I call an interior designer's hang. It looks nice and doesn't make anything stand out, i.e. all the work 'fits in'. This is often the hang of consensus because it sort of is ok. 

Lets compare it to a horizontal rule, whereby we hang along a line. 

The invisible shelf

The invisible washing line

Setting images against an invisible line suggests some sort of invisible resistance and therefore allows you to give more weight to the images. 

Laercio Redondo   

You could of course instead of an invisible shelf, put a real thin shelf along the gallery wall and lean the work against it, just as how Laercio Redondo  has done above. When I used to run the Workshop Press Gallery, for his exhibition Benedict Phillips erected one continuous narrow shelf of a similar design to Redondo's, that went right around the four gallery walls. Visitors were allowed to then curate their own walls by simply carrying the work from one wall to another, sliding works to one side and placing new work in the gaps. This works for paintings or images on boards, but doesn't work so well for works on canvas.

Amy Sillman

Or in the case of Amy Sillman she has made real the invisible washing line. This can work for un-stretched canvas or works on paper, but again, not so good for works on stretched canvas. 

Both these approaches work well if you want to give more physical presence to the work. Conversely when Jill Mulleady was being shown at the Arsenale in a recent Venice Biennale her canvases were set into the wall and made flush with their surrounding surface. 

Jill Mulleady

By sinking the images into the wall Mulleady is able to get away from the 'objectness' of the paintings and in doing so seeks to gain a narrative unity in a similar way to how a series of wordless graphic novel images might work together. I wasn't convinced though and if she wanted to emulate graphic novels, perhaps she could have had the work printed and pasted up. This was for me all about technicians proving that they could make a great finish and that then people would spend lots of time looking closely to see if they could spot how it was done. I.e. I remembered the form of display rather than the nature of the work. 
Colour and its saturation

As soon as we begin to add other elements, visual weight and associated dynamics change. 
Goya and El Greco: St Peter

A not to scale comparison of Goya and El Greco. Both artists require an awareness of gravity for us to understand their images. Goya to support the grounding of St Peter as the rock on which the church is built; El Greco to support an awareness of St Peter's spiritual arising. By placing the two on the invisible shelf, Goya gets the required weight and El Greco rises appropriately. You could perhaps adjust the spacing but not by much. Arnheim's method of using an invisible central fulcrum means we are not tempted to even the gaps out, this creates a much more dynamic composition, allowing both images space and an off centre rhythm within which they can be what they need to be. 

So what if we don't hang to a horizontal? 

Klara Kristalova

The dynamics of more diffused centres

Without a horizontal, each hung object becomes a radiating centre around which visual dynamics come into play. If the objects hung are within a certain size range then we can create a very active space, especially if it is a space that we want to link directly into the wider gallery space. See how Kristalova stands one of her ceramics on the floor and faces it into a mirror hung on the wall.

Klara Kristalova: Human moth with mirror

Another way of dealing with the need to hang a lot of images is to cluster them as islands.

Kara Walker

Clustering eliminates difference and makes the individual pieces work together as a unit. There is though a distinct difference between Kara Walker's cluster of images and Annette Messager's 'My Vows'. 

My Vows (1988 – 99)

'My Vows' is composed of lots of small framed photographs, but we don't feel as if this is a way of presenting them as a collective exhibition, by hanging them in this dense configuration they become a new object, effectively a low relief sculpture. 

Hew Lock: Nameless

Hew Lock uses beads and their response to gravity to give vertical structure to his wall based drawing. 'Nameless' is a drawing made of bead and cord glue-gunned onto the wall. As Lock states, "It is simple: You send somebody drawings and instructions, they project the image onto the wall, trace over in pencil, and then they work the image in beads and cord over that." In effect the hanging materials now become the drawing materials. This is perhaps why I would call the centre hang at 57 inches an interior designer's hang, it is just too safe. An opportunity to hang work is also an opportunity to make new responses to what you have already made. 

Two clusters, one the upside down version of the other

However, the 57 rule can be used more subtlety. The left cluster sets the 57 inch central to the two small rectangles together on the right side and the right hand cluster sits the 57 line exactly along the top edge of the two rectangles now on the left side. This gives an underlying harmony to both groupings. 
But what if you do this?

Lining up each painting's horizon line

Or this?
Making an island object along a diagonal

It's only by playing around with possibilities that you will find out. Hang just one image at an oblique angle and the rest at right angles and it will stand out. What if an image was hung upside down? Georg Baselitz has spent over 40 years pondering that question. 

So before setting off to hang your final show or exhibition out in the city, do remember that presentation has endless possibilities and that how you approach this could deeply shape the way your work is received. 

International Surrealist Exhibition 1938

The Main Room of the International Surrealist Exhibition of 1938 was designed by Marcel Duchamp and Wolfgang Paalen. It took the form of a grotto or womb, a dark space with a ceiling lowered by hanging 1200 scrunched up newspaper filled coal bags from the ceiling and it was partly lit by burning braziers. (Health and safety didn't come into the picture at that time)


References:

Arnheim, R., (1969) Art and visual perception: A psychology of the creative eye. London: Univ of California Press.

Arnheim, R. (2009) The Power of the Centre London: Univ of California Press

Klee, P. and Moholy-Nagy, S., (1953) Pedagogical sketchbook London: Faber & Faber.

Bingham, P. (1993) Picture Framing New York: Stackpole Books

Burns, J. T. (1978) Framing Pictures New York: Scribner

Frank, V. (1991) An Introduction to Picture Framing London: Chartwell House

 See also: 

More on framing and hanging

Drawing and installation

Thinking about the salon hang

Lina Bo Bardis and architectural presentation methods * A way of presenting work without walls

The frame blog A great blog to get you thinking about the frame itself as an idea

Fixings and fittings