HEARTH

On the Surface: A Photographic Journey through Visual Texture


The island of Mont Saint-Michel, December 2015. The abbey spire rises over the roofline of timber framing medieval buildings.

Since I took this photo, it has been a favorite of mine for one specific reason – its texture. I love the contrast of the timber frames on the smooth plaster, the rough stonework against the smoother grain of the wood shingles, all juxtaposed against the sharp angularity of the spire that rises in a sky strewn with soft cotton ball clouds. The image is rich in contrasts, dimensions, layers, materials – so beautifully textured – and that is what makes it visually interesting, what brings it to life for me.

It is the same reason I am fond of the following selection of architecture and landscape photographs. Notice the varying materials that provide contrast and dimension – the rough coarseness of stone and brick, the soft delicacy of cloud and meadow, the smooth placidity of water and sand. Through both dramatic and subtle variances in hue and shape, texture brings a sense of presence, movement, drama to these images.

A mixed media cottage in Salisbury | England
Monochrome texture | Girona, Spain
Mottled rock | Balmoral Castle, Ballater, Scotland
The smooth Blue Lagoon strikes again | Grindavík, Iceland
Ac-cumulated texture | Place de la République, Paris
You can almost smell the brine
Lush and green | Rangárþing Eystra, Iceland
The classic coast | Newport, Rhode Island, USA
Coastal tides | Newport
Puget Sound | Whidbey Island, Washington, USA
A river runs through it | Thingvellir, Iceland
The rippling sea | The coast of Hvar, Croatia
Volcano forged | Dyrhólaey, Iceland
Black sand beaches | Reynisfjara, Iceland
Glacier lagoon | Jökulsárlón, Iceland
A sea of grass flows into the ocean | Point Reyes State Marine Reserve, California, USA

Now, this use of the word texture to describe a photograph, which is inherently two-dimensional, may seem odd or inappropriate to some. Indeed, the concept of texture is more often used to describe a tangible property of an object that can be felt and experienced in the real world through the sensation of physical touch. It conjures images of a plush wool rug underfoot, the rough bark of a tree against your back, the grittiness of sandpaper on fingertips. In a word, these are tactile textures in that they describe a characteristic or sensation that is largely experienced through touch.

But texture exists in a visual sense as well in the observed surface quality of an object, specifically in the perceived variation of light and dark colors and patterns. While texture might not always seem as prominent in photographs as other elements like color and composition, it is always there and helps give a sense of depth and visual weight to the image. As a formal property of art, visual, or implied texture, is utilized extensively by artists as well as graphic designers and photographers.

Texture can be further broken down into real or actual texture as well as simulated and invented texture. Actual texture can be achieved through the build up of paint in techniques like impasto or through incorporating materials like gesso, sand, and glass to give a work dimension and a sense of movement. Simulated and invented texture is about creating the illusion of a textured surface without there being any tactile element. Painting or drawing techniques may be used to realistically simulate the texture of an object and, alternatively, to represent or approximate the texture of an object or abstract work. This can be realized through the specific arrangement, density, and edge quality of the marks that the artist makes with their pen or brush.

As this example demonstrates, a sphere made with loose pencil lines around an irregular circumference will create a soft blurred effect, whereas a sphere composed of compact, dense lines around a defined edge will appear smoother and sharper. Consider the use of texture in the artworks below to either lend the subject a hyper-realistic quality or to create an imagined surface through abstract forms.

Lichen on rock | Dalí Theatre-Museum, Figueres, Spain
Courtyard reflected in a painting of rocks and lichen | Dalí Theatre-Museum, Figueres, Spain
Karntakuingu Jukurrpa (2003) by Dorothy Napangardi | Seattle Art Museum (SAM), Seattle, USA
Napangardi uses dots to convey environmental details like the saline claypans of the her home in the Australian Northern Territory
Sandhills (2006) by Dorothy Napangardi | SAM
The placement of multi-colored dots creates a wood grain effect when viewed from a distance
Mountain Devil Lizard Dreaming-Winter Storm (1999) Kathleen Petyarr | SAM
The raised dots are meant to simultaneously represent the spotted pattern of the devil lizard’s skin, the seeds and ants that it eats, as well as the sandstorms that pass over it
Untitled: Munglipa (2014) by George Tjungurrayi | SAM
The use of linear patterns to represent a desert landscape composed of waterholes and ripple marks on sand resembles the rush seat of a chair
Swamps West of Nyirripi (2006) by Ngoia Napaltjarri Polland | SAM
The pattern of a watersnake is used to represent the swamps in which it lives, with ovals showing bodies of water and dots conveying cracking ground where the water is drying up

As these paintings demonstrate, the use of both real and implied texture in art and photography is important for adding visual weight and interest to the subject. Of course, texture is also critical to interior design for, but not limited to, the same reasons. Beyond the visual punch that a velvet loveseat or a burl wood credenza gives a room, the incorporation of tactile textures in our living spaces can evoke varied emotional and psychological responses. Certain textures can be utilized in a space in order to produce a specific aesthetic effect and generate an affective response in the individual.

Soft textures are associated with being inviting, approachable, ­and cozy – think luxurious textiles and generous throw blankets – while hard textures like polished wood and marble exude strength and vigor. Smooth textures feel tranquil and austere, and as they are often unassuming, allow other elements like color and form to take center stage. At the other end of the spectrum, rough textures like stone and natural wood give off warmth and informality. Because they are often associated with natural elements, coarse textures can make people feel more at ease and comfortable in a space. For me, there’s no one who does texture (archi-texture?) better than the great Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí. I mean, the WALLS. I give you exhibits A-F below.

A. Under the sea | Casa Mila, Barcelona, Spain
B. Foyer impressions | Casa Vicens, Barcelona
C. Pretty pink patina | Casa Vicens
D. Sgraffito vines | Casa Vicens
E. Mushroom not to scale | Casa Batlló, Barcelona
F. Spiraling into a dream | Casa Batlló, Barcelona

Whether we’re talking about tactile or visual texture, the texturedness of an object depends on the scale at which the surface is observed. At a distance the leaf of a plant might appear smooth, until closer examination reveals a surface that is coarse with tiny raised bumps or bristles. An entire subcategory of photography exists to capture this kind of magnified detail; macro photography blows up miniscule subjects and allows the viewer to experience them larger than life. This technique can also be used to capture closeup, abstract compositions of things found in nature or everyday life. Both approaches focus on attaining intricate and interesting surface textures that can be lost – or seen in a different light – in photographs that are taken at a larger scale.

In reviewing my own collection of photography, I’ve realized that I seldom go for the closeup shot. This is in part due to the fact that true macro photography requires specific camera equipment that I, sadly, do not possess. But also I think it’s because the macro is not a view that we, as humans, are accustomed to taking in our everyday observations. And that makes knowing where to look for it and how to capture it more difficult. That said, it is one that I’d like to explore and develop, as it offers great potential for capturing wonderfully textured images. In the meantime, all I have to offer as illustration are some closeups of various family pets, plants, and other assorted creepy crawlies.

Tongue-tastic floof – The family dog, Buddy | Grant, Alabama, USA
Hairy toes – The family cat, Carol Noel | Grant
Rustic sleek – The family barn cat, Smokey | Grant
Dusty girl – Family Fell pony, Moxie | Grant
As close as you can get without your eyes getting wet – The family Chincoteague pony, Chamois | Grant
Grazing meadows| Bláskógabyggð, Iceland
Gnarly pillar | Rome, Georgia, USA
Ants in the sand | Huntsville, Alabama
Blending in? | Pacific Science Center, Seattle
Fuzzy wuzzy was a… moth | Pacific Science Center
Mushroom gills | Huntsville
Fungi on the forest floor | Huntsville
Lichen study | Opus 40, Saugerties, New York
Earth to icy moon | Diamond Beach, Iceland
Dazzling | Diamond Beach

Published by Olivia

Hello, Olivia here. I'm a writer and consultant with a love for experiencing new places, spaces, and tastes, and a penchant for documenting them through writing and photography. I have a BA in International Studies and spent the first three years of my post-undergrad life working in New York City (the dream). I also lived abroad in London and Paris while pursuing a graduate degree and working as an au pair for a French family (despite my horrible French). I'm currently based in the Portland, Oregon, area where I live with my partner and our two cats, Odin and Freya, and our tripawd border collie mix, Fenrir.

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