Terrington St Clements church

click photo to enlarge

I've visited the church of St Clement, "The Cathedral of the Marshes", at Terrington St Clements, Norfolk, quite a few times. It is one of many large, medieval churches that rise up from the flat landscape that borders The Wash. What draws me back to this one is the beauty of the exterior of the building, the way the Perpendicular period windows light up the interior, and the interesting furnishings that the building holds.

St Clements, like a few churches in the area, has a tower that is separate from the nave. Presumably the medieval builders feared that if it was attached to the main structure any movement of the soft soil below would bring it down and with it the rest of the building. It is a sturdy, wide tower, built in the early 1500s. In 1670 it became a refuge for villagers when a great flood inundated the area. Food had to be brought to them by boat from King's Lynn as they waited patiently for the waters to subside.

My main photograph shows the south side of the church with its very typical Perpendicular (fifteenth and early sixteenth century) windows, parapets, buttresses, pinnacles and panelling. Above the roof the top of the tower can be seen, the pinnacles a little too thin for my taste, and the clock squeezed awkwardly into the space between the bell openings and the panelled and decorated battlements. The smaller, black and white image shows the imposing west end with the tower set to the side, and the nave and its aisles embellished with spirelets on the angle turrets. There are small transepts. Where this feature occurs there is often a tower over the crossing. However, here the risks of such a venture, should a collapse happen, were too great.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1 Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting on sunglasses and bad pop

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Every decade or so I try on a pair of sunglasses. Then I take them off and wonder why I tried them on in the first place. The fact is I don't like to see the world dimmed by dark lenses, but after ten years or so has elapsed I forget this. It seems to me that sunglasses are subtractive: the dimming of what the eye sees takes away something of the beauty of the world. I'm aware that not everyone sees it that way, but it's my view.

I've written about sunglasses before when I posted a blog image of the only other photograph that I've taken of sunglasses. On that occasion I wondered about the reason for people wearing them in a semi-permanent way regardless of whether or not the sun is shining, and speculated that it might be an exterior manifestation of an interior insecurity. But, time moves on and so do my thoughts, and when I looked at my most recent image of sunglasses I thought only of Bono. Perhaps the recent protests at the Glastonbury Festival seeking to shame him over his tax affairs have pushed him to the forefront of my mind. It must be that because it isn't his music.

Sometimes, when I've discussed popular music with friends the conversation has turned to the worst examples of the genre. A person of my age might well cite the likes of Pat Boone, Englebert Humperdink, the Brotherhood of Man, Whitney Houston or Bryan Adams. In fact there is a virtually endless list of bad pop songs and an almost equally long list of "very modest" performers. Yet, when this subject has arisen I always turn to the successful triumvirate (in terms of sales) that, to my mind, has had the most baleful influence on popular music and produced some of the most dire songs  - Abba, Queen and U2. Being favourably inclined to bombast is a useful attribute if you are to enjoy the music of U2 (and Queen for that matter) and that's something I'm not. And, if the music and lyrics didn't put me off then the politicing certainly would. If I managed to take all of that then it's surely those wretched perma-shades that would finally tip me over the edge!

Today's photograph was taken on a group visit to a couple of NGS "open gardens". It was one of those "wall-to-wall sun" days when the tabloid newspaper headlines are "Phew, what a scorcher!", or some such, and several pairs of sunglasses were in evidence. Those in the photograph were tucked down the neck of the polo shirt of one of our party, and I caught them as they reflected another member of our group.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.8mm (60mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO:160
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Weather forecasting

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The ease or difficulty of weather forecasting depends a great deal on location.The weather of continental areas in the centres of large land masses is, by and large, reasonably predictable. The weather forecast of a western maritime location, such as that of the British Isles, is much harder to get right. The Gulf Steam together with pressure systems and their associated winds and precipitation make accurate forecasting a challenge. It also helps to account for the frequency with which the weather is a topic of conversation in these islands!

Given that, I'm at a loss to understand why the UK's Meteorological Office publishes forecasts that aim to be accurate for any three hours at locations that may be only a dozen or so miles apart, based on recording stations that are spread much more thinly. Not surprisingly these detailed forecasts are often wrong. Equally unsurprisingly they are updated regularly during the day reducing their value as longer term forecasts.

In my experience some parts of the UK's forecasts are better than others. Wind direction seems to be the most reliable element followed by wind strength. The extent of cloud cover and whether or not the sun will shine is less accurate. However, in my part of the world the forecast for precipitation is often abysmal. Or perhaps, living in one of England's drier areas, during a year when we have had very low rainfall, it just seems that way. The main point I want to make is that I would be less critical of the forecasts and would actually find them more useful if they dispensed with their spurious accuracy, were less detailed, and better reflected the uncertainty that is inherent in weather forecasting in the UK. The fact is that if you see the weather will be sunshine and cloud at 1.00pm with light rain at 4.00pm, then this doesn't transpire exactly as forecast, and you've made arrangements based on the prediction, then you are more likely to notice (and be critical) than if the forecast was for "changeable" (sun/clouds/occasional light rain) for the whole period of the afternoon.

Today's photograph was taken on a day when the forecasters promised rain but delivered none. The sky certainly looked like it would produce rain with thin, watery clouds and intermittent denser patches veiling the sun. Passing a wind farm I thought it might be an opportunity to try a shot with my widest lens at 17mm, and compare it with an earlier version of this subject when the widest lens at my disposal was 22mm (35mm equivalent).

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Lincolnshire strawberries

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Not just any Lincolnshire strawberries, but OUR Lincolnshire strawberries! Until we moved to the east of England we'd never grown this particular plant. We'd tried and been successful with many vegetables and quite a few fruits, but, apart from the ornamental Alpine variety, strawberries had never featured in our gardens. From a modest start with four plants three years ago we now have a very productive bed, complete with a netted frame for protection from birds, that gives us countless pounds of fruit. Such has been this year's crop that we have had plenty for ourselves, have made a big batch of jam, and there's still been a lot of punnets for friends and neighbours.

The fact that we have had (and continue to gather) a great crop of strawberries when the exceptionally dry spring has reduced and even obliterated the local "pick your own" fields is surely testament to the necessity of the water that we applied during the hottest, driest spells. In fact, our raspberries have been equally prolific, and must also have benfitted from our watering.

I took these photographs of a few of the recent pickings at my wife's suggestion. I chose to show them against traditional blue willow pattern because the red of the fruit and the green of the leaves always look good against the blue of the small, re-used plastic boxes that we collect them in. The main photograph was quickly taken hand-held, but the smaller one was a little more considered, and featured the tripod as the camera data suggests.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1 (Photo 2)
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority (Manual)
Focal Length: 100mm
F No: f7.1 (f16)
Shutter Speed: 1/80 (1/4)
ISO: 320 (100)
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV (0 EV)
Image Stabilisation: On (Off)

River Welland scene

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I sub-title this blog, "Photographs and reflections from Lincolnshire, England", so it's perhaps about time that I featured a photograph from the county where I live. The trouble is, I haven't got too many photographs that were taken locally in the past month. Here's one, however, that I took it on a shopping trip to Stamford. The River Welland runs through the town and this section often has a small boat or two moored under the trees. It's enough to give a point of interest around which to build a composition. I posted a shot a while ago of the same area of river, though with a wider perspective.

As I walked over the bridge I noticed a few mallards and mute swans in front of the pair of rowing boats. After something of a wait as the birds swam here and there, never quite getting into a compositionally "right" location relative to the boats, this solitary bird obliged me by positioning itself in the area of dark water on the right of the frame and I pressed the shutter.

In one of my early posts on this blog I reflected on photographing swans, and in particular the slightly apologetic note with which enthusiast photographers often accompany such an image. There is the feeling that swans are "corny" subjects, photographed to death. I've always been of the view that if we excluded subjects that have been heavily photographed there'd be precious little left to photograph, and that the approach you adopt is more imprtant than the subject itself. Evidence for my belief in that assertion can be found in the number of photographs of swans on this blog and my different treatments of the subject! See here, here, here, here and not least, here.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 140mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Shard

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The Shard looks set to be one of the most interesting buildings to have been erected in London in recent years. Not only will it be the tallest in the capital (and in the UK and Europe) at 1,017 feet (310m), it will also be a mixed use building, something that is not common in the UK. Floors 2-28 will be offices, 31-33 will be restaurants, 34-52 will be a hotel, 53-65 are reserved for residences, and floors 68-72 are to form an observatory. The designer of the tower, Renzo Piano, likened his creation to a shard of glass and the name has stuck. This glittering, angular, tapered shape will be a dramatic addition to the skyline, a building that is designed to change its appearance in different weathers.

There was some opposition to the construction of such a tall building so close to the centre of London, even one located on the south bank of the Thames. However, the last Labour government gave the planning go-ahead, and I am glad that they did. It seems to me that the height of a new building is an important consideration if it is very near a large, significant older building. But, a big new tower should not be rejected on size alone where this consideration does not come into play. The crucial factor is the quality of what is proposed, and the Shard, it seems to me, is a high quality design that will add something to the London skyline rather than detract from what is already there. Yes, its shape is a little "odd", but it is very appealing: to my mind more so than London's other "oddity", the Gherkin.

I've photographically recorded the Shard as it has been under construction over the past two years, and have meant to post a blog entry with several of the shots. However, I probably won't do this as the Shard's Wikipedia page has done it better (bottom of page). Instead I will post photographs of the building as and when I secure one that I like. This shot was taken during a recent early evening walk where, even without lights, the glass of the building glowed against the dark, sunlit cloud.

Incidentally, the Shard has a very good website that not only explains more about what it will become, but also charts the progress of its construction. I particulary recommend the Gallery and the panoramic views.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.8mm (60mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Evening clouds and daylight robbery

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Reading the Guardian newspaper yesterday I was brought up short by the caption to a photograph. It should have been the photograph itself that caught my eye, one in the series "Unsettling animal picture of the week" showing a swan in the middle of the road with outstretched wings appearing to be halting the progress of a huge lorry. But, the image was not as strong as usual and it was the text that drew my attention. It said, "Swan v machine: no one knows if the bird was protesting at the lorry's carbon footprint or just trying to rob its cargo, but it did hold the traffic up for a while." It was the use of the word "rob" in place of the correct word, "steal", that caught my eye. That, I thought, is the work of a twenty-something year old, because I've seen and heard this use that I condsider a misuse - a number of times before.

Perhaps it's my age, but I can accept solecisms of this sort from the man in the street and casual writers, but I can't take it from the journalist of a serious newspaper. Moreover, being a serious daily the Guardian has its own "style guide" aimed at preventing such errors. Was the distinction between rob and steal mentioned, I wondered? It was, and here's what it says: "you rob a person or a bank, using force or the threat of violence; but you steal a car or a bag of money". Reference to the in-house authority would have allowed the writer to choose the correct word. But therein lies the problem with dictionaries, style guides and all the other works that seek to improve our use of written and spoken English: you have to aware of your limitations and the areas in which you might err before you can check them.

All this has very little to do with my evening photograph of the City of London seen from the south bank of the River Thames near Tower Bridge. I post it for the clouds (see yesterday's post). However, if you wanted to make a connection with the subject of robbing and stealing you could argue that the City is the location of the biggest and most audacious gang of thieves in the UK, one that robbed the populace of much of its wealth, and which, through the cuts being implemented by a supine and cowardly government to make good the City's losses, continues to steal from us to prevent themselves having to bear the pain of their own wrongdoing and ineptitude.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.8mm (60mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO:80
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

In praise of clouds

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I sometimes feel sorry for people who are condemned to live their lives in a place where the sky is invariably unbroken blue and clouds are infrequent visitors. I'm not usually of this state of mind in, say, February when a dense blanket of stratus covers the land and the only variation from day to day is wondering whether I'll wake up to fog or to mist. But for much of the year, when clouds cause the skies to change daily, from  morning to afternoon, even hour to hour, then I'm glad I live where we have this life-enriching beauty and I don't rise to the same, all-pervasive, boring blue.

I was thinking about this when I was looking across the Thames during my recent stay in London. This view of the city from the balcony changes with the time of day, the weather, and particularly the type of clouds that drift across the metropolis. I've photographed it a number of times, and on each occasion it hasn't been the buildings that have prompted me (though they add significant interest), but rather the quality of the sky. In fact, what the clouds have offered has often been the main point of my image.

The sky in today's photograph was part of one of the dry spells between a succession of squally showers that were crossing London. The sun kept fighting to make its presence felt, but on this day the clouds and the rain were definitely in the ascendant. "Turbulent" was the best word I could find to describe the clouds, and their magnificent disorder above the man-made order below seemed a good enough reason for a photograph.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

And now for something completely different

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The phrase that I've used for the title of this post is inextricably linked with Monty Python's Flying Circus. However, it originated with the continuity announcers and announcements that linked television programmes in the 1960s. Such things are rarely seen or heard these days, the time between programmes being filled with interminable advertisements for products and services (commercial TV) or equally interminable advertisements for forthcoming programmes (public broadcast TV). In fact, such is the frenetic pace of TV today compared with earlier times that it sometimes leaves me feeling breathless. On those occasions I think to myself, thank heavens for hard disc TV recorders. Most of my TV viewing - I watch films in the main - is recorded because it allows us to watch at our own pace, when we want, and to fast forward the advertising "fillers" between and in the programmes.

Sometimes I feel that my photography can get a little frenetic too, especially when I'm unleashed in a photographer-friendly (or unfriendly!) environment such as London. Consequently, it's good to put a macro lens on the camera, point it at some flowers, and take my time over image making. The other day my wife asked me to photograph some oriental lilies that she'd grown. Usually I'd do this at my leisure and aim to get the very best shot that I could. This time, however, I did things a little quicker and fitted the photography in with the other tasks that were occupying me. So, she held a sheet of black vinyl behind the subject in a well-lit room as I grabbed a few images by natural light. Given my lack of preparation and poor technique I was surprised how well the photographs turned out. This is the one I like best for the feel that it has of a Victorian, painted, botanical illustration.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 1600
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

More on the public/private issue

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I've visited London a few times in recent weeks. It's a trip I always enjoy, not only for seeing the members of my family who live there, but also for the photographic opportunities that it brings. Yesterday's post notwithstanding, photography in London is largely a pleasure for a number of reasons. Firstly, photographic subjects abound - everywhere. Secondly, people in a busy capital city are used to people walking around with cameras and taking shots of whatever takes their fancy: unlike in country areas they often don't give you a second glance. And thirdly, the big city is a great contrast to my area of rural Lincolnshire, so I welcome the opportunity to snap away at "different" subjects.

My stays in London are based on the south bank of the Thames a little upstream and across the river from Canary Wharf (the biggest area of "private public space" in London), so a short morning walk often takes me to locations across the river from its gleaming towers. Of course, photographing this private area from the public footpath on the opposite side of the river presents no problems. I've most enjoyed shooting this financial district in fog, and have produced several images that I've been pleased with (see here, here and here), but I've also captured it in the early evening and in full sun. Only on a couple of occasions have I ventured into its precincts, and thus far I've not been bothered by anyone objecting to my camera.

Today's photograph was taken on a sunny June morning with a deep blue sky dotted with "cotton wool" clouds. Even though the sun was pretty much behind me and there was little modelling by shadows, the scene looked quite three-dimensional due to those clouds, and so I took my shot.

Incidentally, for anyone following yesterday's post, I received a very prompt, courteous and detailed response to my letter to More London regarding photography. When I've digested it and discussed it further I'll write to them again. Then I'll turn my attention to the owners of the building I was prevented from photographing and also to the London mayor's office.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

You can't take photographs of this building

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So, there I was with a family member, walking through More London in the early evening light, snapping away with my LX3 at subjects such as City Hall and "The Shard" (already the UK's tallest office block and still growing), on my way to the Marks and Spencer store located there. Our quest was for something for the evening meal, but I'd taken the small camera along for some shots as I always do on such occasions. I took a few more images of the buildings, the entrance to the food store, and, after completing our purchases, we left. As I walked through the street shown in today's photograph I stopped, raised my camera to take a photograph of the lights, the reflected sky and the patterns on the upper part of the exterior of one of the glass buildings, when it happened: someone approached me from behind and said, " You can't take photographs of this building."

The speaker was clearly someone employed on the foyer desk of the building, and who had been out somewhere (probably to Marks and Spencer) and was returning to his place of work. I won't bore you with the ensuing conversation which was polite but querying and exasperated on my part, and of the "I'm only following instructions" sort on his. Suffice to say that we went our separate ways, me to dinner and a discussion about what had happened and who I needed to write to about it, him to his desk and keeping his employers safe from the depredations of ageing amateur photographers and sundry tourists with cameras.

My first missive has gone to the owners of the private land on which the offices stand. More London is one of those hybrid spaces that are increasingly common in our cities - places where not only the buildings but the streets and the circulation spaces are private. Notices that are discreet almost to the point of invisibility tell the public this at More London. A few more prominent signs ban cycling, roller blades, skateboards and the like. No sign anywhere, to my knowledge, suggests that there is a ban on photography, and the thousands of tourists who visit the area each day merrily snap away at Tower Bridge, City Hall, HMS Belfast, the fountains, the buildings and anything else that takes their fancy. I have done so many times in the presence of the blue jacketed and overalled More London staff, with never a word spoken, and I assume they have no problem with people taking pictures. So my basic query of the landowners is whether they have a policy on photography, or do they leave such matters to the occupants of the buildings, and do they give any guidance on the matter to them. Depending on their reply (assuming I get one) I'll write to the occupiers of the building whose staff stopped me, asking what they hope to achieve through such action, suggesting why it is both counterproductive and futile, and asking them to change their policy. My third letter will be to the Mayor of London asking him to take whatever steps he can to stop the harrassment of photographers in outdoor areas of London where the public have free access, reminding him that successive Home Secretaries and the Association of Chief Police Officers have issued such instructions to police officers, and that private security staff should follow the same guidance in privately owned outdoor areas that are freely accessible to the public.

Will I achieve anything? Maybe. Maybe not. But, as ever, if you do nothing, nothing changes: if you do something, something might change. And the fact is, something needs to change.

A Google search reveals that I'm not the only person to have been accosted in this way. Interestingly, a Google image search on "More London Place" returns 34,600,000 photographs! Those security guards and their employers are fighting a battle that was lost long ago.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.9mm (37mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographic innovation

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The development of cameras and photographs has never ceased since the days when the early pioneers first fixed their images on glass and paper. But rather than being a steady upward path, innovation has tended to progress in bursts followed by a quiet period of consolidation. I spent about 35 years using film cameras - compact, rangefinder and SLR. However, in the last two decades of the twentieth century I paid little attention to the developments that were taking place - autofocus lenses, different kinds of metering etc., because I was entirely happy with what I could achieve with my Olympus OM1n and my Ricoh rangefinder. In quite a number of respects the technology of these two cameras was little different from the cameras of ten or twenty - maybe forty or fifty - years earlier. But, they did have batteries to power their light meters which used selenium, so to that extent they were "modern".

Today, in fact ever since cameras have incorporated sensors and computers, the pace of change has been frenetic. And, just when you think things have settled down in terms of the megapixel count and the feature set offered by competing manufacturers, along comes another development. Often these are disdained by the purists, and talked down by people who use cameras that don't feature them, but widespread adoption by every manufacturer of the novelty introduced by one, seems to be only a matter of time. I've seen this phenomenon with image stabilisation, live-view, the movie facility in still cameras, "art filters" and more. The other day, as I watched this man take his own photograph near City Hall, London, I wondered how long it would be before every camera had a second LCD display on its front next to the lens. His camera didn't have the feature, so he took several shots, checking the rear LCD until he got something that satisfied him. But, surely it can only be a matter of time before second LCDs are widespread, can't it?

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

City Hall and The Scoop

click photo to enlarge

London's City Hall is the work of Foster and Partners, more specifically the partner Ken Shuttleworth. Its circular/spherical shape, internal spiral ramp and green pretensions show it to be the offspring of the firm's earlier Berlin Reichstag. Londoners have, as is the British way, given it a variety of nicknames - the motorcycle helmet, the strawberry, the glass gonad and worse. None of these has stuck in the way that, for example "The Gherkin" has pinned itself to the Swiss Re tower at 30 St Mary Axe. Interestingly this glazed and transparent seat of London governance and democracy was built by private finance, made available to the city on a 25 year lease, and is located on private land on the south bank of the Thames: it is part of More London. You have to wonder why a metropolis such as London can't do better than this, and what will happen when the lease runs out.

The adjacent "public" amphitheatre" called "the scoop" (don't you hate this kind of use of lower case letters) was built after City Hall, and it wasn't until I'd passed by them a few times that I saw the echo of the building in the shape of the slate steps/seating of the outdoor theatre. This was clearly intentional on the part of the architects, and it works best when seen from upstream of the pair. On my last visit I tried to get a shot that illustrated the compositional juxtaposition. Unfortunately the light was rather flat, but there was just enough depth in the shadows to make this photograph that I converted to black and white with increased contrast.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Newark Buttermarket

click photo to enlarge

It's widely assumed that multi-purpose buildings are a product of the twentieth century and later, with earlier times erecting single purpose structures. Though there is something in this belief, it's not the whole truth, as the subject of today's photograph - Newark Town Hall - shows.

In 1774-6 John Carr of York built Newark Town Hall overlooking the market square. It is a Palladian design of seven bays. The ground floor has smooth rustication pierced by doors and windows with rounded arches. The centre is a three-bay loggia that retains its original iron grilles. Above is a giant, tetrastyle Doric portico with balustrade, triangular pediment and pedestals with a lion and a unicorn. Inside the building is a large assembly hall with Corinthian columns, a council chamber, and other rooms. However, it isn't the main building that concerns us here, but rather the additional function that the town built into the ground floor.

Behind the three central entrances is a market hall, now called the Buttermarket. It is stone flagged, has two rows of free standing columns and further "engaged" columns against the exterior walls. Originally it would have been a place where butter, other dairy produce, meat, etc was sold from stalls. Such Buttermarkets are common throughout Britain. They are usually small, columned, open structures (the earlier structures) or larger, more elaborate well-lit halls, and usually date from the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries. At Newark a later, two-storey, iron-columned and glazed market hall extends from the back of the more modest Georgian beginnings, and is in fact Newark's only covered shopping area. I first came across this charming feature last year. On my most recent visit I tried to secure a photograph of the old, dark, stone-columned space. This is the best of my attempts. It shows the central aisle through the columns that acts as a thoroughfare, to either side of which are shops and stalls.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 85mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Broken idyll in Newark

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For someone with an interest in architecture the Nottinghamshire town of Newark-on-Trent is a place of great fascination. It has a picturesquely sited medieval castle by the river, all the more romantic in appearance after being "slighted" in 1646 following its support of King Charles 1 during the English Civil War. The centre of the town has a fine, large medieval church - St Mary Magdalene - a member of the Greater Churches Group of large parish churches. The crowning glory of this building is its beautiful, tall spire that dominates the town. Nearby is a lovely market place surrounded by a wonderful mix of buildings including the Palladian Town Hall  of 1777-6 by John Carr of York and the White Hart Inn, a building Pevsner calls "one of the paramount examples of late C15 timber-framed architecture in England." Elsewhere, but particularly by the river, there are other buildings, old and new, industrial, commercial and domestic that attract the eye. The river itself is navigable, but has a canal-like section that was the hub of the bardge traffic that originated in Newark and brought goods to the town.

The other day, accompanied by a friend who was staying with us for a while, we visited the Nottinghamshire town. Unlike our December visit, on which the two images linked above were taken, the weather was sunny and warm. In the castle grounds - now a small park - people were sitting in the sun, eating a lunch, playing football and generally enjoying the summer day. I was taking a few shots of the architecture when I became aware of many people focussing their gaze and attention in one direction. Looking the same way I saw a column of black smoke rising into the air from not too far away, and quickly spreading over the town. What was it? In these times one's first thought can turn to a deliberate act of violence or terrorism, but that seemed unlikely in provincial Newark. I knew the town well enough to work out that it was probably coming from a scrapyard by the river. At lunch we discovered that was the case - a pile of rubbish had caught fire. What I found interesting was how the event changed the atmosphere and how the pleasant summer idyll was suddenly broken for a while. I don't always have the presence of mind to capitalise on such events with my camera, but on this occasion I fired off a quick shot of the smoke and the people's reaction to it.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

You couldn't make it up No. 731

click photo to enlarge

Today's unremarkable photograph is one that I mentally file under the category of  "You couldn't make it up" because the subject is so unlikely that even the most exalted writer of fiction wouldn't dream of it. It shows the 150 ton, steel hulled, Thames sailing barge, "Will", that was built in 1925 for F.T. Everard and Co. by Fellowes of Great Yarmouth. The boat was originally named "Will Everard" after one of the partners in the family firm who owned it, and spent much of its working life carrying gas coal from Keadby on the River Humber to Margate Gas Works. A crew of three worked the barge as it plied the Humber, the Thames and the connecting coastal waters of the North Sea in its essential, but undoubtedly dangerous and dirty work.

This particular barge was powered by sail alone until 1950 when a diesel engine was fitted. Her working life ended in 1966 after which she became a store and then a private yacht. Subsequently "Will" found a more exalted line of work, one that she undertakes today, and which she was busy with when I took my photograph - hospitality, P.R. and corporate entertainment. It was the incongruity of men in dinner jackets and bow ties and women in off-the-shoulder evening dresess on board the former coal barge that prompted my title. What, I wondered, would the crew who regularly berthed the dust-covered barge at Margate Gas Works have made of the scene I photographed? I imagine their response would have been a mixture of bewilderment and laughter.

This sight, however, got me thinking. What other hospitality, P.R. and corporate entertainment experiences lie untapped, awaiting someone's entrepreneurial vision. Perhaps the offer of canapes and cocktails in a derelict coal mine (served in an original miner's tin "bait box") would entice the derivatives trader in search of an "authentic" experience. Or how about, instead of bungee jumping, white-water rafting, snow-boarding or any of those other so passe activities designed to get the adrenalin of a well-heeled city type going, instead, offering an authentic nineteenth century industrial experience with the frisson of real danger. I have in mind a day at a "heritage" working cotton mill, of the kind exemplified by Quarry Bank Mill. Half the day would be spent as the owner, lording it over the workers, feasting on all the bounty that fabulous wealth could provide. The other half - the "exciting" bit - would be spent in the guise of either a "piercer" (joining broken threads on the spinning machines), a "doffer" (changing empty bobbins for full ones), or a "scavenger" (cleaning the lint from under the working machines). All these jobs were, of course, originally done by children, so the extra size an adult would bring to the tasks would increase the risk of experiencing the hazards the youngsters faced - pruned fingers, lopped toes, broken arms etc. It would be the perfect antidote to the monotony of shovelling money all day long in the regular day job. I think this kind of corporate entertainment could be a winner!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 60mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

More of More London

click photo to enlarge

A recent brief visit to London found me taking more photographs of contemporary architecture: in fact my images included quite a few more of More London! Regular readers of this blog, and people who are familiar with that city, or who photograph it, will know that this is a large, new, speculative development by the Thames, just upstream from Tower Bridge. As far as the buildings go it is, to my mind, a mixture of the ordinary and the very interesting. Probably its best feature is the narrow, canyon-like, "desire route" that has been created through the tall offices, linking the City Hall area with London Bridge Station.

What I find interesting about this architecture - the first buildings were called "bland and undistinguished glass boxes" by the architectural writer, Ken Allinson - is that even the most unprepossessing structures often feature semi-abstract details incorporating lines, textures, patterns, reflections etc. that are fascinating in themselves and offer an intriguing subject to the passing photographer

I found details of this sort when passing 6 More London Place and instead of continuing on towards London Bridge Station as I have usually done when walking this way, I stepped over towards the main entrance of the building and looked up. Such was the interplay of elements and reflections that met my eye I found it difficult to work out what was real and what was mirrored, a phenomenon that has always had appeal for me. I took a few photographs of the compexity including these two. Looking at them again I'm reminded of the the paintings and constructions of Jesus-Rafael Soto, or the spare linear, Constructivist works of Lissitsky, and I wondered where the architect had found his inspiration.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Natural froth

click photo to enlarge

Speaking of being puzzled (as I was in yesterday's post), something that made me scratch my head as a child was the froth that I saw regularly on the River Ribble. It wasn't always positioned at the base of waterfalls (or "forces" or a "foss"), but was sometimes floating along on a quiet stretch, making patterns of whirls, curls and blobs, until it was rushed down some rapids to be broken up and spread throughout the torrent.

I remember that my initial thought was that the paper mills upstream must be responsible for the froth and foam. Perhaps, I thought, it was a result of the discharges that they made into the river. But, as one by one, the mills closed down, and the froth continued to be evident I speculated on other causes. Was it farm run-off? Or maybe it was caused by natural agents in the rocks, soil and plants.

On my recent visit to the Settle area I took this photograph of froth on the river just below Stainforth Force. I have no doubt that the turbulence of the flow seen in yesterday's image had a part in creating the froth. But, since not all agitated river water produces it there must be additional factors involved. A little research shows that this phenomenon is widely found, and does often have a natural cause. It seems that organic compounds dissolve in the water and act as natural surfactants allowing fine bubbles to form and coalesce as foam or froth on the surface of the river. The plunging action of a waterfall or rapids is usually the stimulus for its creation.

Looking down on the froth from a small cliff above the river I took this shot, pleased by the patterns that were being formed and then slowly changed as the water moved on. Looking at my image on the computer I was reminded of some of the photographs that I took of patterns in frozen puddles last December.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 60mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Stainforth Force

click photo to enlarge

When I was young and growing up in the Yorkshire Dales one of the things that I found puzzling was the use of the words "force" and "foss" to describe waterfalls. In the area where I lived and roamed the Ordnance Survey map showed Scaleber Force, Stainforth Force, Catrigg Force and Janet's Foss. However, the precise nomenclature of the the map-makers wasn't observed by the locals, and foss and force were used interchangeably when speaking of these places. It was only when I was older and had some knowledge of the etymology of these and other words associated with landscape and settlements that I realised this didn't matter, and that our imprecision came from the English developments of the root Norse word.

Both "force" and "foss" come from the word that Norse settlers brought to England in the ninth century - "foss" or "fors".  In fact, the Norsemen who settled north west England were, in the main, Norwegians who came from earlier settlements in Ireland and the Isle of Man. This contrasts with the Norse settlers of eastern England who were mainly Danes (though with some Norwegians). These geographical and cultural differences can be plotted on maps using "test words" that are held to be specifically Norwegian: for example "brekka" (now "breck" meaning hill), "gil" (now "Gill" or "Ghyll" meaning ravine), or "slakki" (now the suffix "-slack" eg. Elslack). I'm not absolutely sure, but I think "foss and "force" are also of specifically Norwegian origin.

My photograph shows the River Ribble in spate at Stainforth Force at a point where it tumbles over steps of limestone into a very deep pool. I used my photographic assistant (aka my wife) as scale, human interest, a compositional element and because her bright red hat made for a sharp point of colour in an otherwise gree/brown/white scene.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On