Composing in Triangles
I have realized of late that I treat our home as an art project: the different rooms and various spots around the house become a canvas. I experiment with combinations of artworks, shapes, color or theme until I land on a pleasing design. This collection, on the fireplace mantel in our bedroom, was built around shape.
Composition “usually refers to the arrangement of elements within a work of art. An artist arranges the different elements of an artwork so as to bring them into a relationship satisfactory to them and, it is hoped, the viewer.” (1) In classic art, triangular forms represent a pleasing shape. The triangle base grounds our eyes to the bottom of the piece, and the sides draw our eyes upward, much like in perspective (see prior blog post: https://www.ericasheirloomquilts.com/ericas-heirloom-treasures/wonky-perspective). “In the classical tradition, triangular…compositions were used because they created a sense of balance and harmony by arranging the figures into a stable overall geometric structure.” (1) It is ridiculous how often I move things, even just slightly, to get the composition to please my eye. And Hubby loves to tease me, slightly shifting something just to point out my ridiculousness.
This collection of items has been unchanged for a while now (as compared to the other side of the mantle where I keep swapping things). The pottery was a 2nd grade art class project my daughter made. I suspect her brothers made a similar project, but theirs didn’t seem to survive. The piece is a charming pile of squares made into a vase, emblazoned with my initial and glazed a sweet aqua green. It has become a depository for a found feathers and sticks. And one pink butterfly. The butterfly’s wing creates the perfect triangular line from the top feather down.
The small bronze-looking statue of a female holding a basket is a bit of an odd one. I picked her up from a friend’s estate sale, and loved her curves, regardless of her broken (and patched) ankles. The artist, Paul Herzel (1876-1956) was German born and lived in New York. I was unable to find any other work of his depicting a naked female. He seemed to focus much more on pirates and western American Indians and animals, so it’s unclear why he made this not-typical work. She is likely from mid-1920s, and was cast by the Pompeian Bronze Clad Mfg. Co. Turns out, it is not an actual bronze at all – it is zinc metal with a copper coating (or cladding as per the foundry’s name). It is not likely worth much – especially broken – but I cherish her and find her triangular symmetry pleasing. Her left arm, holding a basket against her hip practically shouts “step right up, ladies and gentlemen, triangles all around”. In addition, the tilt of her head mimics the angle of the butterfly behind her, using her nose to direct our eyes down, to swoop across her body and land on the little girl.
The sweet girl is a hand carved and painted statue, made in Germany’s Black Forest. I found her at my local thrift shop for a few dollars. Someone wrote on the bottom “Switzerland 1951”. Similar pieces on the internet are dated to the 1920s, so I suspect she was picked up as a vacation souvenir at that later date. Many of the internet versions refer to her as “Goose Girl”. The reference is to the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tale “Goose Girl”, though the girl and the goose in this charming piece seem sweet, while the fairy tale is rather gory. Which is saying something as Grimms’ tales are all rather awful, full of nasty characters our modern sensibilities wouldn’t dream of reading young children. It also seems unlikely the child is depicting the Goose Girl as the young woman in the fairy tale is heading off to be married and this little one seems a far cry from that age.
The entire carving is a triangle shape, from the girl’s head to the goose’s rump. As well as her hat, which draws you in from the Herzel statue. Her skirt also flairs into a triangle, creating her triangular torso. And the wonderful white goose, leaning in a triangular tilt against her, creates yet another triangle in the space between them. The overall triangle shape is a perfect childhood mimic of the Herzel statue’s arm and basket that gazes down on her.
If you step back and look at the three items in total, you recognize that all together, they also create a triangle, starting at the peak of the feather, and ending in the goose’s feathery rump. From a composition perspective, there is also the pleasing symmetry of the vertical lines. The tall spines of the feathers, as well as the wood stick. The tall dark shape of the Herzel woman, stepping a bit down in size. And the little girl, ending the vertical lines with a bit of sweet baby pudge. Shapes inform our eye of a path to look at things, and the more a composition offers contrasts, symmetry, and geometry, the more pleased we are. Or, at least I am, until Hubby moves them around to torment me.