It is a common practice in architectural literature, particularly in textbooks on composition and diagramming to describe the quality of composition using terms like symmetry, repetition, contrast, rhythm [
5,
6,
7]. Discovering specific instances of such organizational features in a composition is often understood to be a good way of analyzing a composition and often evaluating it. Few writers have tried to explain why these features should be associated with the quality of composition. The most respected account, so far, seems to be that of Rudolph Arnheim, whose argument uses a language of dynamic organization, of perceived forces between elements of composition, and of opposed expressive qualities like “straightness and flexibility, expansion and contraction, or openness and closeness”, which are both perceived in buildings, and may also be applied to objects and environments at large [
5]. Arnheim’s emphasis on our perceptual organization is justified, but his language can now seem quite anachronistic and carries the flavor of just-so explanations—explanations that depend on the very qualities they are called to explain.
We believe that a different type of explanation for the role of such compositional properties in the way the composition functions could be offered. Our explanation depends on the idea of active viewer agency, arguing that compositional properties are not directly a measure of the quality of composition—more symmetry, or more order, does not automatically make a better composition. Rather, what differentiates compositions is the extent to which they allow a viewer (naturally, an appropriately motivated one) to get engrossed in understanding them. What leads the viewer to become engrossed is the activity of discerning different features and relations across the composition, of discovering potential patterns or emergent figures, and of reflecting on any depicted entities that may be present, and so on—an activity that is, therefore, directly influenced by the organizational properties of the composition. A behavioral consequence of this activity should be to distribute the viewer’s attention across the composition, making different parts of it salient.
The proximate aim of our study, then, is first, to test whether the organization of a composition does really produce discernible differences in what is salient within a composition, and second to learn a little more about the mechanism by which this happens. The larger aim is to develop an account of how the buildings take shape in response to a generic functional demand of creating imaginative engagement.
1.1. Imaginative Attention and Visual Parsing
We begin by recalling some basic facts about human vision. Human vision is fundamentally inferential; our visual system encounters variation of light intensities on the retina and uses those to develop a useable image of the environment. According to one well established account, the process that is followed first identifies contours, fills them in to create surfaces, and then puts them together to construct individual larger objects as fusions or assemblies of these surfaces [
8]. This “parsing” operation relies on visual cues to guide the construction at every step. Because this is an inferential process that operates simultaneously through both bottom-up and top-down processes, parsing makes selective use of the available visual information, using what fits the inferential model and discarding what does not. A pint to note is that much of this process is not in one’s conscious control—as the early gestalt psychologists have observed, we cannot help what we see, nor guide it towards pre-specified ends, although we may control what is in our field of view and use attention to select from within it [
9].
This is because we require attention to see [
10]; just training our eye on the object of vision is not sufficient. Attention may be essential to our ability to assemble independently observed attributes and features into specific objects and scenes [
11]. Attention usually has a focus, which leads to selectively seeing only some aspects of what is in our field of vision. The focus can vary in size and in interest as we choose to either scrutinize something closely using high acuity foveal vision, or to survey an area without any pre-specified goal, maintaining general awareness [
9]. Attention itself is task-oriented; to maintain attention on a specific object, we need to be engaged in a visual task concerning the object [
12,
13]. So in the end, our seeing is task-driven, limited to what we attend to, either purposefully, or as a response to something obtruding into our awareness.
Seeing also has an imaginative dimension. The objects or assemblies constructed may not actually be present, such as when we see a three-dimensional object in marks on a surface or create notional groupings from entities in our field of view. At other times, constructions made can also trigger associations to images in our memory. The importance of this imaginative seeing is to direct thoughts and attention away from what is directly in our field of vision to entities or worlds not immediately present; this is because imaginative seeing can only be sustained by an act of “attentive intentionality” [
14].
Given this, we can argue that the manipulation of visual form through composition is not just a simple aesthetic activity—where a designer manipulates the visual form in order to create designs that feel harmonic or pleasing or right [
15]—but rather a means to guide the viewer’s attention and, therefore, thoughts in specific directions [
16]. This study was designed to test one aspect of this argument: that altering the visual design of a building in particular ways alters a viewer’s attention to it and makes different parts salient.
1.2. The Façade as a Case: Marcel Breuer’s Atlanta Public Library
The hypothesis was tested using a façade of a building. The relationship of buildings to their viewers is complex—often designed for viewing by moving visitors, from different angles, and in different environmental conditions. However, in the façade it is possible to find an individual sub-problem in architecture, whose design is mostly driven by visual concerns. We can find many examples of façades drawn by architects in orthographic projection during the design of a building, which indicate a frontal viewing. These kinds of façades can be safely considered a two-dimensional composition with three-dimensional attributes—something comparable to a relief rather than a sculpture in the round. Movement for such objects may help discern the shape, but is not essential to understanding it. Moreover, it would be relatively easy to find a façade that was treated as a stand-alone composition in its own right, over and above how it contributed to the visual design of the entire building. The choice of the façade as a case thus simplified many issues for us without compromising the basic idea to be tested.
The façade selected is the entrance front of the Atlanta Public Library, constructed in 1981 (
Figure 1). The architect in charge of construction was Hamilton Smith of Marcel Breuer Architects (MBA), however much of the basic façade design was actually produced under the direction of Marcel Breuer prior to his retirement from the firm in 1974. The façade is a dull gray, monochrome composition of pre-cast concrete panels and glass, which is both severe and uncompromising in its Brutalist aesthetic. Simultaneously, the façade is a very sophisticated composition, providing an unexpectedly apt illustration of a visual composition designed not just to please the eye, but also to engage the mind [
17].
Figure 1.
(a) Photograph of Atlanta Public Library, Georgia; (b) Orthographic elevation drawing of Atlanta Public Library.
Figure 1.
(a) Photograph of Atlanta Public Library, Georgia; (b) Orthographic elevation drawing of Atlanta Public Library.
Breuer was trained at the Bauhaus under a very particular design philosophy. The core element of design was to create abstract visual compositions that would deliberately bring into play the complex and automatic aspects of human vision that the gestalt psychologists of the time had begun to describe. Such visual forms, these designers believed, would help contemporary man overcome the fragmented and dissociative experiences that the modern world had created and “reform [him] into an integrated being” [
18]. To achieve a “dynamic integration”, visual forms had to meet certain criteria: they would have to be plastic (
i.e., produce a unified and balanced experience). The characteristics of such dynamic forms included (1) asymmetric; yet (2) balanced composition, which could be resolved into (3) a small set of elementary figures against a ground, but in such a way that (4) the consistency of one reading would be constantly challenged by another; and (5) the identification of the figures against a ground and their inter-relationship would be consistently open to re-evaluation. The relationships between these emergent figures could be described in standard compositional terms—repetition, inversion, symmetry, rhythm, contrast, opposition—the terms demonstrating the various ways in which the viewer might be led to a kind of predictive understanding of the logic of composition. Kepes and others argued that such dynamism was essential for the maintenance of the observer’s attention [
18].
The stated design intent to create a composition of dynamic balance, while deploying plastic means, meant that two distinct criteria of performance could be identified for the design of the façade, and each could be associated with a distinct pattern of attention. The first criterion was that the quality of plastic experience produced by the façade. The term plastic, as used by Breuer and his contemporary, characterized a visual experience in which the viewer is able to parse a given object or composition into a set of emergent shapes, to group them in various hierarchies, and to infer various simultaneous relationships between both the individual shapes and their groups. Our normal visual experience has elements of plasticity, but signs of highly developed plasticity are particularly noticeable if one finds attention paid to complex and layered qualities of depth in a dominant two dimensional composition. In the context of the Atlanta library façade, then, a successful plastic experience would be revealed if one found attention given to those elements that showed evidence of compositional relations in depth.
The second intended criterion that we could attribute to the design of the Atlanta library façade was overall dynamism. The dynamism in question here was that of the viewer’s visual activity. A measure of the compositional quality of the façade, therefore, was its ability to distribute the observer’s visual attention evenly over the entire façade rather than focusing more strongly on a local area. Evidence that viewers picked up or noticed peripheral elements as frequently as central ones would make a strong case that the façade composition maintained an overall dynamism.
The Atlanta Public Library façade, therefore, had several features as a composition that made it particularly well suited for our study. First, it is an abstract composition that can be decomposed easily and relatively unambiguously into a set of discrete elements. This, and the fact that it was a monochrome composition, further reduce the complexity of compositional variables. Second, its design philosophy, as we have seen above, was clear, explicit, and well articulated, thus allowing us to infer intent and to relate it to outcomes of attention that were observable in principle. Finally, the minimalism of the façade composition made it possible for us to design reasonable alternatives (
Figure 1 and
Figure 2).
Figure 2.
Original façade design—highlighting characteristics of dynamic forms.
Figure 2.
Original façade design—highlighting characteristics of dynamic forms.
All this meant that our general hypothesis could be given a more precise and statistically testable formulation—we could present subjects with two different façade compositions, one altered from the original other, by changes to specific elements that maintained relations like symmetry and repetition, but, in our judgment, impaired the two qualities that Breuer had intended—dynamism and plastic experience. We could note the consequence of these changes by asking the subjects to reproduce these façades under different conditions, and checking which elements or relations they reproduced accurately. Our hypothesis was that even though the changes we made to the façade left most of it intact and maintained its visual language as well as its overall logic, there would be a significant difference in what viewers picked-up or favored when reproducing it. Not just that, we also hypothesized that the differences would show that the altered façade had lost some of its dynamic, plastic experience—that viewers of the altered façade would tend to distribute attention less evenly across it and show less awareness of its depth. In other words, the altered façade was supposed to not perform as well compositionally as the original one, but in ways that are not easily described in language that is conventionally used to describe compositions.
We discuss all this in more detail in the following section.