In photography, as in all arts, there are rules of composition that make images more pleasing and usable. They are rules that are part of our culture and that we almost always respect without even realising it. Every now and then, however, it happens that we take some ‘wrong’ photos, often unintentionally, but sometimes in full consciousness: When one travels and is passionate about photography, one takes many photos to capture the atmosphere of the place and to draw interesting images from it, but in this way it is statistically more frequent to get a few wrong, and on the other hand even the voluntary attempt not to take obvious photos can lead to choosing unusual perspectives or shots, which do not fully respect the rule of thirds for example, or whose subjects are in an unbalanced position in terms of size, perspective or whatever. And it may happen that more interesting images are produced in this way, (obvious) moral: rules must be respected until it is no longer productive to stop doing so.
This last chapter of photographic impressions of a trip I made to northern France in August was composed in this spirit, with a light hand though, hoping that the breaking of rules will be almost imperceptible, just a faint scent.
