The forty-five degree shadow
Worth reading first: Where shadows vanish · A shadow is a second projection · The lamp, out of the picture.
The rule is the first thing anybody is told about drawing shadows. Put the sun at forty-five degrees, run the shadow off at forty-five degrees, and make it as long as the object is tall.
In a plan it is exactly right. A sun halfway up the sky casts a shadow equal to the height of what casts it, and a shadow running at forty-five degrees across the plan is a sun in the corresponding direction. Nothing is wrong with the rule where it was written.
Applied to a perspective drawing — a fixed angle on the page, a length equal to the drawn height — it puts every object in the picture under a different sun.
Reading a drawn shadow back
The measurement here is not a matter of opinion, because a drawn shadow can be interrogated.
The tip of a shadow is a point on the ground, and a point on the ground in a picture has exactly one place it can be — the camera’s ray through that mark, met with the floor. So each drawn tip names a world position. The top of the post is a known world point. The line from the top to the tip is the light ray that would have had to produce that shadow, and its direction has an altitude and an azimuth.
Four shadows, four light directions. If the drawing depicts a scene lit by the sun, the four must agree, because the sun is at infinity and its rays are parallel.
The four suns the rule produces on the picture drawn here differ by 13.3° in altitude and 31.5° in azimuth. The four real shadows, cast by one sun and projected, read back as one sun to within four parts in a hundred trillion of a degree, which is the control that makes the first number mean something.
Why it cannot work
The reason is structural rather than a matter of tuning, and it is worth stating because it rules out every repair of the same kind.
The rule sets two things on the paper: the direction the shadow runs and its length. Both of the quantities it is standing in for depend on where the object is.
The direction the shadow runs in the picture is the direction toward the shadow’s own vanishing point — the point on the horizon belonging to the sun’s azimuth, which is what where shadows vanish establishes. Lines running to a single point on the horizon are not parallel on the page: they fan. So a fixed drawing angle means each post’s shadow runs to a different point on the horizon, which means a different azimuth for each.
The length in the picture is foreshortened by the depth. A near post’s shadow is drawn long and a far post’s short, for the same world length. So a rule that makes the drawn shadow equal to the drawn height gives the far post a shadow far longer in the room than the near one.
A single number cannot be a function of position. Setting either quantity on the page guarantees the other one varies.
No angle rescues it
The obvious response is that forty-five is the wrong angle for this camera, and some other angle would do better.
None does.
The curve has a minimum, because at some angle the fan of implied azimuths happens to straddle the true one most evenly, and it never reaches zero, because the shape of the failure does not depend on the angle chosen.
There is also a limit at the steep end that is worth recording, because it is a refusal rather than an error. Drawn steeply enough upward — away from the viewer — the rule places the shadow tip above the horizon, and a point above the horizon has no ground position at all. The rule is then asking for a shadow infinitely far away, which the machinery here declines to supply rather than returning a large number.
The two readings of the same instruction
There is a second thing the wording does not settle, and it makes a large difference.
“Forty-five degrees” on the paper can mean down-and-across — the shadow coming toward the viewer — or up-and-across, running away into the picture. Both are drawn in books.
Drawn toward the viewer, the implied suns are between sixteen and twenty-nine degrees up and the shadows are one and three-quarters to three and a half times the height. Drawn away from the viewer, the implied suns are between 1.8° and 3.4° above the horizon, and the shadows are seventeen to thirty-two times the objects’ heights.
A sun two degrees up is a sun at the moment of setting. So one reading of the rule draws mid-afternoon and the other draws the last minute of daylight, and the instruction as printed does not choose.
That is the same structure as the two readings of the eight-point circle rule in the circle in the square wants a number — one instruction, two ways to carry it out, both consistent with the words, and a large difference in what results. It is beginning to look like the characteristic defect of a rule stated in terms of the paper: the paper has more degrees of freedom than the rule mentions.
What the rule should have said
The correct construction is not much longer than the wrong one and it is entirely a matter of joins and meets.
Pick the sun’s azimuth: mark a point on the horizon. Every shadow on the ground runs to that point, so from each object’s foot, draw the line to it.
Pick the sun’s altitude: mark a point above or below the horizon, on the vertical through the azimuth point. That is the vanishing point of the light rays themselves. From each object’s top, draw the line to it.
Where the two meet is the shadow’s tip. Two lines per object, and two points chosen once for the whole picture.
That construction is exact, it produces a single consistent sun by construction, and it is the same construction as the one in a shadow is a second projection, where the sun is treated as a second camera and the shadow as its picture. Nothing about it is harder than the rule it replaces; it is one extra dot on the paper.
The lamp version, which is worse
Everything above is for the sun. For a lamp inside the scene the rule is not merely inconsistent but qualitatively wrong.
A lamp’s shadows are not parallel in the room at all: they radiate from the point directly under the lamp. So in the picture they run to different points on the horizon and their directions vary as strongly as the geometry does. Any fixed drawing angle is wrong for all but one object, and the pattern of the failure is one nobody would produce by accident.
The recovery machinery is the same either way, and it distinguishes the two cases with one number: the shadow lines, extended, meet on the horizon for the sun and below it for a lamp — as far below as the lamp is close. That is a fact a reader can check on a photograph with a ruler and no arithmetic.
What a picture with four suns in it means
It is worth pausing on what the measurement above actually says, because “four suns” sounds like a figure of speech and is not one.
A picture is a projection of a scene. The question “what scene is this a picture of” always has an answer for the objects — a drawn post is a picture of some post — and for the shadows it need not. A shadow is not an object; it is a relation between an object, a light and a floor. A drawn mark on the floor is a picture of a real mark, but whether that mark is the shadow of the post beside it is a claim, and the claim can fail.
So a drawing whose shadows were put in by the rule is a picture of a floor with four dark patches on it, none of which is the shadow of anything under any single illumination. It is not a picture of a badly lit room. There is no room.
That distinction matters because it decides what can be recovered from such a picture. Everything this collection does with shadows — the lamp out of the picture, the depth from a shadow, un-casting a shadow to find the object — starts by assuming the marks are shadows and fits a light. Handed the rule’s marks, the fit returns something, because a fit always does, and the something is the light that best explains four incompatible pieces of evidence.
The residual is what says so. Two shadows always determine a light exactly, because two lines meet; the third and fourth are what can disagree, and their disagreement is the only signal that the marks were never shadows. A drawing with three or more shadows in it is therefore a drawing that can be tested, and a drawing with two is not.
The one case where the rule is exact
For completeness, the rule does have a case, and it is narrower than “in the plan”.
Take a sun at forty-five degrees of altitude whose azimuth runs exactly across the picture — parallel to the picture plane. Then the shadows in the room are all parallel to the picture plane, so they are parallel on the page too, and their vanishing point is at infinity in the picture rather than on the horizon. A fixed drawing direction is now correct for every object.
The lengths still are not. A shadow parallel to the picture plane at depth d is drawn at a length proportional to 1/d, and so is the post’s height, so the ratio of drawn shadow to drawn height is the same for every post — and equal to the world ratio, which for a forty-five degree sun is one.
So in that one arrangement both halves of the rule are exact: the direction is fixed and the drawn length equals the drawn height. It is the arrangement in which every diagram illustrating shadow construction is drawn, and it requires the sun to be in one particular place relative to the camera.
Move the sun’s azimuth off that line and the direction rule breaks. Keep the azimuth and move the sun’s altitude and the length rule breaks. The rule is a point in a two-parameter family, presented as the family.
Why it looks all right
The rule survives, and the reason it survives is worth stating because it is the same reason as everywhere else in this collection.
A drawing with shadows put in by the rule looks lit. Everything has a shadow, the shadows all go the same way, they are all in proportion to their objects, and the picture reads immediately. The errors are consistent — every shadow is wrong in the same style — and a consistent error is exactly the kind a viewer’s eye normalises away.
What gives it away, to somebody looking for it, is that the shadows do not converge. In a photograph of a sunlit street the shadows of the lamp posts visibly fan out toward a point; in a drawing made by the rule they are parallel on the page like a hatching pattern. Once seen it is not unseeable, and it is the quickest test there is for whether a drawing’s light was constructed or applied.
The second tell is the length under a low sun. The rule makes every shadow proportional to its object’s drawn height, so a distant figure gets a short shadow. A real low sun gives a distant figure a shadow that stretches most of the way across the picture, because the shadow’s world length is fixed by the sun and the drawn length is whatever the projection makes of it.
The general statement
Three of the rules this collection has measured now fail the same way and the way is worth naming.
A rule that sets a quantity on the paper is asserting that the quantity does not depend on position in the scene, and in a perspective picture almost nothing has that property.
The shadow angle depends on where the object stands. The shadow length depends on the depth. Seven tenths along a diagonal depends on the foreshortening. The vertical drop from a waterline depends on the tilt of the picture plane. Every one of them is a fixed number substituted for a function, and every one of them is exactly right at one place — which is where the diagram illustrating it was drawn.
The repair in each case is the same in shape: find the vanishing point the quantity belongs to, and draw to it. A vanishing point is a fixed thing that produces a varying result, which is precisely what a fixed rule cannot do.
Shares its objects with
Essays that name at least two of the same things, and that neither author linked.
- The design that outruns the floor — both name foreshortening, ground plane, horizon, vanishing point
- A light far enough away — both name horizon, light recovery, vanishing point
- A picture with nothing straight in it — both name ground plane, horizon, vanishing point
- Carrying a height across the room — both name ground plane, horizon, vanishing point
- Measured down from the waterline — both name ground plane, horizon, vanishing point
- The line every nosing is on — both name foreshortening, horizon, vanishing point
Named objects
A flat tag is an object no other essay names yet.
AltitudeAzimuthForeshorteningGround planeHorizonLight recoveryProjection from a pointShadowSunVanishing point