The solar floodlight

click photo to enlarge
The five-day weather forecast for my part of the world, for the past few days, has been cloud, cloud and more cloud. And, every day thus far, we have experienced several sunny spells each day that have broken through the cloud cover. I'm considering becoming a weather forecaster - I would be just as good at getting the forecast wrong as the current crop of people.

Sun broke through again very briefly on an early morning visit to Boston, Lincolnshire, and prompted this photograph. When I was starting out in photography many decades ago I had a handy little Kodak booklet of hints and tips for taking better photographs. One suggestion was that the photographer should not take shots with the sun behind them. If the photograph included people it would cause them to squint at the camera, and the floodlight effect of the sun at this position would make the subject appear flat because of the absence of shadows to model it. This isn't bad advice, but like all such rules they are made to be broken knowingly.

What prompted this shot was the yellow tint that the low light gave to the subject of the church of St Botolph. The other was the way the sliver of deep shadow of the buttresses made it look like a flash gun was throwing a shadow onto the background of clouds. And the other was that this is a different kind of record shot of a subject I've photographed many times before. Incidentally, I wouldn't choose to shoot this subject with the lens open at f1.8 but I could see the shadow of the clouds slipping across the market place and I simply didn't have time to change the setting.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Morning, St Botolph, Boston, Lincolnshire
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/2000
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Celebrated Boston Water Filter

click photo to enlarge
In a post of 2006 I wrote that I could never have been an entrepreneur or venture capitalist because I would dismiss so many money-making ideas as ridiculous. I cited the proposition that in Britain water could be sold to people in plastic bottles at many multiples of the price of inexpensive, pure and palatable tap water. I would have dismissed this out of hand, and I still find it extraordinarythat money can be made in this way. Equally puzzling to me is the notion of water-filters. I can understand their use in parts of the world where the water is not purified and on tap. But, in countries where those conditions do prevail why does anyone buy water filters? The fact is that all the necessary filtration is done before the water comes out of the tap.

On a recent visit to the medieval guildhall in Boston Lincolnshire, I came upon "The Celebrated Boston Water Filter". This stoneware device lacked a tap at the base, but it was obvious that it filtered water for the recipient at a time when piped water either wasn't available or wasn't of the standard that it is today. In other words, the filter had a purpose. The other thing that struck me as I surveyed this water filter was a thought that I often have since my relocation to Lincolnshire not too far from Boston. It is this - when I search for anything to do with this Lincolnshire town I have to be careful because I get lots of hits relevant to Boston Massachusetts, the place that was named after the town near where I live. That problem shouldn't arise here because the filter proudly proclaimed that it was "Improved and Manufactured by Isaac Walker, Boston, England", and I am making that very clear. However, I'm sure that won't stop visitors from the U.S.A. Boston alighting on this page in hope and departing disappointed.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: "The Celebrated Boston Water Filter", Guildhall, Boston, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fairs ancient and modern

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Many of the fairs that take place across the country have their origins in medieval fairs held on "holy days" (holidays). One of the largest to be held annually is the Nottingham Goose Fair. This is thought to have started around 1284 under a charter granted for a fair in the city by Edward 1. Its name arises from the large numbers of geese that were walked to Nottingham from locations in Lincolnshire to be sold at the fair. Inevitably other trades and suppliers set up stalls and sold their wares at the Goose Fair, and entertainers joined in too, also keen to take advantage of the large number of people who congregated in the city for the eight days of the event.

Like most such fairs the one at Nottingham was truncated (to three days) and in time became an event that largely offered entertainment of one kind or another. Today "amusements" (roundabouts, helter-skelters, sideshows, stalls, etc) predominate in what are essentially funfairs. During my lifetime the fairs that I have known best have been the small event that visits Settle in the Yorkshire Dales and the very large fair held annually in Hull that was first held in 1278. Today's photograph was taken at the Boston May Fair in the town of Boston in Lincolnshire. It shows the outside of a large amusement that includes a covered helter-skelter tube. This fair is held in the town's market place where it is reputed to have been staged annually since at least 1152.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Boston under leaden skies

click photo to enlarge
A recent walk around Boston, Lincolnshire with my camera coincided with leaden skies and drizzle. But, as someone who believes that there is no such thing as bad weather for photography, we persevered. Today's photograph was taken from the bridge by the Grand Sluice, the point at which the tidal waters of the River Witham are prevented from extending inland. The key feature of the shot is the tall tower of St Botolph piercing the sky and reflecting in the water as it has done for the past several hundred years

This medieval structure - the tallest parish church tower in the country that isn't a spire - looms over the centre of Boston much as it always must have done. No other buildings in the town can compete with its height except for the tall slab that is the Pilgrim Hospital, and that is sufficiently far away that the two can only be seen together from a great distance. It is a a great shame that more of our country's big medieval churches don't enjoy the physical prominence that they once did and that often they are dwarfed by towers of varying quality that have been erected with little thought for their venerable neighbours.

The dark sky and low light levels gave my photograph a quite monochrome appearance, with even the green of the grass, that had been spurred on by recent sun and warmth, not managing to pierce the drabness of the day. It also obscured the details along the river banks that allow the photograph to be dated, and were it not for the "bowstring" bridge in the centre distance, the shot could conceivably been taken any year in the last one hundred and fifty.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Botolph and the River Witham seen from the Grand Sluice Bridge, Boston
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Workhouse and silos

click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph was taken three years ago. I came across it twice recently - once in a presentation I was giving about architecture and again when I was searching for the original of another photograph. Seeing it once more reminded me how odd it is. It also prompted the thought that it would make a reasonable blog post.

The first oddity in this photograph is the style the architect (a young George Gilbert Scott in 1837) chose for the facade buildings of a workhouse for the poor and homeless. Why, you have to wonder, did he think that the heavily symmetrical, classically-influenced, style of a country house (in miniature with a triumphal arch in the centre) was suitable. On reflection it is, perhaps, better than using a cotton mill as your inspiration as seems to have happened at Southwell. Quite a bit of money was spent on the facade and its administrative rooms and offices. Behind this range were the tall, plain, brick-built dormitories etc of the workhouse inmates. These are long gone, replaced in the most insensitive and peculiar way by this overpowering run of industrial silos - the second oddity in the photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Former Workhouse and Silos, Boston, Lincolnshire
Camera: Canon 5D Mk2
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Town Bridge, Boston, Lincolnshire

click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph was taken, like quite a few of mine, on a shopping trip. A pocketable camera is a boon to a busy photographer, and I value the diminutive size and great quality of the Sony RX100: it is with me much of the time that I'm engaged on business other than taking photographs. Like many photographers I become something of a fisherman if I see a potential shot that I'm unable to capture with a camera, and the magnitude of the missed opportunity becomes ever greater with each memory of what might have been, so the RX100 dispels the regret associated with a missed shot.

The photograph above was taken from St Botolph's Footbridge looking down the River Witham towards the Town Bridge. I've taken several from the bridge depicted looking towards where I took this shot because behind my left shoulder is the tall medieval tower of the church of St Botolph, known locally as "The Stump". The view isn't a particularly scenic townscape. What prompted me to take the shot was the low afternoon light that was illuminating a few buildings. This, along with the reflections on the water and the deep shadows lifted the view and put me in mind of Dutch and English oil paintings from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries of such subjects

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: January Afternoon - Town Bridge, Boston Lincolnshire
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16.6mm (45mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fog and The Haven

click photo to enlarge
I've written before about my liking for the transformative effect of fog: how bright colours become muted, silhouettes are emphasised, graduated fading is introduced, and landscapes are transformed by the masking of the usual distant objects. A recent brief shopping trip into Boston, Lincolnshire, gave me the opportunity to photograph the inshore fishing boats, usually a very colourful subject, in these foggy conditions.

As I selected a few shots I reflected on the name given to the River Witham between the Grand Sluice in the town and its exit into The Wash and the North Sea - "The Haven". Such a name clearly came about because boats leaving the turbulence of the sea and entering the mouth of the river would find the sudden calming of the water instilled a sense of safety - its shallows would indeed seem a haven from the dangers of the briny deep. In dense fog, such as that on the day of my photograph, that sense of sanctuary would be so much greater. Gone would be the featureless horizons of the open water to be replaced by the welcoming river banks that would usher them to anchorage on the quayside of Boston.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.5mm (53mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Under the bridge

click photo to enlarge
It is a children's story that I blame for my fascination with bridges; specifically, "The Three Billy Goats Gruff". When I first heard about them going "trip-trap, trip-trap over the rickety bridge" I began to look at bridges in a new light, as structures with a mysterious underneath as well as a very useful top. The small town where I was raised has a rocky river passing through it so footbridges and road bridges, old and new were well-known to me. I never saw any trolls beneath them but I discovered that the water under a bridge was a good place to spot trout, and the underside of the bridge itself frequently held nooks and crannies where dippers would sometimes build their nests.

This interest in bridges has been life-long and this blog contains many photographs of these interesting structures. Today's photograph shows the underside of a bridge on the River Witham at Boston, Lincolnshire. It is old, rarely used, and supported by both steel and timber, though the latter, as you can see, is somewhat the worse for wear. I liked the bold, semi-abstract shapes that the dark structure and its reflection made against the water - it reminded me of the paintings of Franz Kline.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 63mm (126mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.5
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographic aspect ratios

click photo to enlarge
The world wide web, it seems to me, has increased the amount of confrontation and stridency in photography. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that this outweighs the co-operation and learning that the online world confers on our hobby and profession. However, the early years of my forty odd with camera in hand certainly didn't feature the vituperation I regularly see today. Photography is not alone in this of course, and it's possibly the opportunity to adopt extreme postures and language anonymously that encourages the outpourings of bile.

To stick with photography, I continue to be amazed about the subjects on which people have unwavering views that they broadcast and defend with boorish language. Brand loyalty, sensor size, fixed lenses versus zoom, black and white versus colour, the list is endless when it comes to the subjects that some photographers can get exercised about. I've even seen people vociferously arguing the merits of one aspect ratio over another. Now when it comes to this subject I play the field. I'll use 4:3, 3:2, 16:9 and 1:1 as the subject requires. Sometimes I'll select the aspect ration before taking the shot, often I'll take it with the largest capture possible but with a different aspect ratio in mind, and frequently I'll crop post-capture. And the idea that one or another is intrinsically "best" or "better" than another seems to me absurd: all are possible, so choose the most appropriate. I've even been known - whisper it quietly - to choose a non-standard aspect ratio where it seemed to fit the subject better.

Today's photograph was one that I shot at 4:3 thinking that it might work well at 16:9. That turned out to be the case and is in fact the best aspect ratio for this image. It shows some of the inshore fishing boats on the River Witham at Boston, Lincolnshire, with in the distance, the tall tower of the medieval church of St Botolph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 34mm (68mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3
Image Stabilisation: On

The essential compositional element

click photo to enlarge
Photographic compositions can be constructed in many ways, some orthodox and some not so usual. Down the years I have come to realise that some compositions depend on a single element to complete it or to connect the disparate parts. It can be a leaf, a reflected figure, an empty can, or a tiny group of people whose compositional significance outweighs their size.

On a recent walk by the River Witham in Boston, Lincolnshire, I took a couple of photographs of some old hulks, wooden boats of early twentieth century vintage that have been left to rot on the river banks, their mud-covered forms inundated daily by the tides and exposed at low water. I couldn't compose a satisfactory photograph of the complete boat that features in today's photograph but I liked the bow detail and thought that, together with the gull, it would make a composition. But, the space between the two elements was too great and, to my mind, the whole did not bind together satisfactorily. However, when I changed my position the gull's footprints leading to its position at the water's edge were more strongly emphasised and they created an essential element that, for me, made the composition work much better.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 52mm (104mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3
Image Stabilisation: On

A new camera system

click photo to enlarge
I've had several emails recently from sharp-eyed readers who have noticed that many of my recent photographs have been taken with an Olympus OMD E-M10. The fact is, I've sold most of my Canon "full-frame" equipment and invested some of the returns in Micro Four Thirds (MFT). I enjoyed the Canon camera and lenses but I never really came to terms with their weight. Had I been younger it might have been different. But, as someone who shot with an Olympus OM1 for about thirty years, and then eventually settled on Four Thirds cameras and lenses, it was perhaps inevitable that I would succumb and seek out something smaller.

I was very unhappy when Olympus pulled the plug on Four Thirds - everything about that system appealed to me. And, having been left high and dry with only vague promises about future compatibility of old Four Thirds lenses with future Micro Four Thirds cameras, I went to a different manufacturer for my gear. But, now I've taken the plunge, albeit in a smallish way with an OMD model at the end of its product cycle and therefore quite good value. I'll buy another, higher end, body in the fullness of time, one with both phase and contrast detect sensors that will fully utilise my Four Thirds lenses. But, for now, I'm happy enough with the E-M10 body and a selection of MFT lenses, though I must make some adjustments to make it choose lower shutter speeds. I'm also using a third party adapter with my Four Thirds 35mm macro lens, something that works quite well. The Sony RX100 will continue as the camera I always carry when photography isn't uppermost in my mind. That just leaves the question of my Nikon D5300 and the 14-150 lens. Will that still have a place in my armoury, or is that on its way out too? Time will tell.

Today's photograph is a shot taken with the E-M10 and the 9-18mm (18mm-36mm in 35mm terms) wide angle zoom, a lens I am particularly enjoying. It shows the interior of the medieval church of St Botolph in Boston, Lincolnshire. The fine Victorian font is by Pugin - not the famous A.W.N. but his gifted, prolific, though less well-known son, E.W.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16mm (32mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.4
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:1250
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Love locks

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The first I heard of "love locks" was when I read a newspaper report in 2010 that told of the Parisian authorities' request that people stop fixing locks to certain bridges over the River Seine. Such was the number and weight of these locks that there was a concern about safety and the effect on the city's architectural heritage. However, I read that the phenomenon dates back to the era of the First World War when "love padlocks" were fastened to a bridge in Serbia.

I spotted padlocks on the new St Botolph's Footbridge in Boston, Lincolnshire, several weeks ago. On a recent visit to the town I saw them again, not greatly increased in number, but noticeable nonetheless. They are there in all shapes, sizes and colours, some with messages written on in marker pen. I have mixed feelings about them. One part of me sympathises with the view of the authorities in Paris; they do detract from the architecture and heritage (or will do if they approach the numbers experienced by that city's bridges). But I also like the fact that people still value symbolism and symbolic acts openly expressed.

The centre of this new footbridge has a trefoil  on each side, the only overt ornament of its bowstring design. Perhaps they are a nod to the Gothic architecture that towers over it. It provides a useful frame for the church tower, currently carries a few of the locks, and offers an interesting shape to the composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  - 0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On

West End

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I remember learning in my school geography lessons that in Britain poorer housing and industry is often located on the east side of a city and better housing on the west. This is apparently due to the prevailing wind being a westerly or south westerly. The well-heeled preferred not to have noxious odours brought to them on the breeze and so, in the main, they chose the western side of the city in which to live. The poor had less choice or no choice at all.

I recall thinking that this seemed to apply to London in so far as I knew it; that the West End was upmarket compared with the downmarket East End. When I moved, several years later, to the city of Kingston upon Hull, the rule applied there too, though it was somewhat spoiled by the fact that the fish dock was in the west of the city.

On my first visit to Boston I noticed this sign on top of a cinema. Roof mounted signs are much less common in Britain than they are in other countries so they do catch my eye. Could the same rule apply in this town I wondered? Was this a West End in the London sense though on a smaller scale? The answer in both cases proved to be no. The sign seems to take its inspiration from London and the fact that the West End has many cinemas, but also leans on the fact it is located in a road called West Street. The clear January light was emphasising the sharp shapes when I looked up at it the other day so I photographed it against the cloud flecked sky in a very off-centre composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17.8mm (48mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  - 0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Starters, finishers and contre jour

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One of the lessons I've learned in life is that many people are good starters but significantly fewer are good finishers. Consequently,if you want to succeed it helps to be a finisher. What do I mean by that? Well, you've doubtless seen people who will begin a grand re-design of their garden, or begin to build an extension to their house, or start renovating an old car, or set off with great gusto on a work-related project only to slow then come to a halt before it is complete. Sometimes they get under way again, but all too often they once again give up and the task they began languishes in an unfinished state for months or years, and frequently is never accomplished. Though that doesn't stop some beginning another abortive undertaking!

Finishers have vision, determination and perseverance. Starters have vision, but lack those extra qualities necessary to see things through to a conclusion. As I took today's photograph I wondered if the builders of the new "bowstring" footbridge over the River Witham, near St Botolph's church in Boston, Lincolnshire, were finishers. The bridge has been open since February 2014, yet every time I've crossed it since that time there has been security fencing, "men at work" signs, piles of paving material etc all indicating that the finishing touches still haven't been completed. You can see some of those wretched movable barrier fences on the right of the photograph.

Purists might bridle at today's image with its flare, vignetting and blown highlights. I don't mind such things. In fact, every now and then, usually in winter, I actively seek them out with a contre jour shot, as was the case with this photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  - 0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Maud Foster windmill - again

click photo to enlarge
Today's post is my fourth featuring what I have described as my favourite windmill - the Maud Foster Mill at Boston, Lincolnshire. It's the third taken from approximately the same spot - a bridge over the Maud foster Drain. And, given the way it looks in this photograph you may wonder what all the fuss is about. If so, admire its full beauty and interest in this shot.

I took today's photograph during a morning shopping expedition into Boston. The weather was slightly overcast but the forecasters had promised sun and cloud, a combination I like for compositions in flat regions where a big area of sky is often unavoidable in a landscape shot. When I framed this photograph the cloud was starting to break up and some blue sky was peeping through. Its reflection on the surface of the large, canal-like drain was quite striking. So I made that the real subject of my shot with the windmill an eye-catcher point of focus at the top of the frame. Its a photograph that makes use of the windmill without showing it off in any way.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.2mm (38mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographing St Botolph

click photo to enlarge
A shopping expedition to Boston, Lincolnshire, when the day's appearance said spring, but the air temperature and wind said the end of winter, found me, not for the first time, pointing my compact camera at the tower of the medieval parish church of St Botolph. And what a tower it is. Many towns and cities are defined and remembered by a noteworthy building and as far as Boston goes this is the one. As I've mentioned elsewhere it is also known by the nickname, "The Stump". Its tower is an oddity of Gothic architecture. The medieval masons started building upwards and just kept on going. When you look at the layers that are piled one on the other it appears that a spire may have been contemplated at one point but then they rejected that conventional topping to the tower. Up and up it went until finally they decided to top it with a pierced, octagonal lantern.

Since that time "The Stump"
has been synonymous with the town, a beacon for ships approaching the port and a marker for weary travellers crossing the flat Fenland hinterland. When you walk around the town the tower rises above the roof tops allowing you to orientate yourself. Only when you go into the market place or nearby across the River Witham do the nave and chancel, themselves almost of cathedral scale but small relative to the tower, make an appearance. The classic photograph of St Botolph is from the town bridge. The appearance of a new "bow-string" design footbridge has changed that view somewhat and on my recent visit to the town I took a shot of the bridge and the tower, though not from the town bridge. Another photograph that suggested itself to me was the tower rising from the blossom of a cherry tree that grows in the lawned precinct immediately adjoining the church. However, the shot I took on Church Street, a location where I've photographed before, is the one I like best. It has the name of a pub - The Britannia - and a couple of promotional union flags, in the foreground, with the tower beyond. I liked the contrast of the bright red with the distant stonework.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen






Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28.5mm (77mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Maud Foster, photographic filters and sails

click photo to enlarge
There was a time, from the late 1970s to some time in the 1990s when my Olympus OM1n's lens, usually a 50mm 1.8, but sometimes a 135mm 2.8, was rarely seen without a yellow, orange or red filter screwed on to it. For my personal (as opposed to family) photography, I did a lot of black and white work, and the boost in contrast that this gave to Ilford FP4 suited me fine. I occasionally fitted one to my little Ricoh 500RF but I more usually shot colour - Fujichrome and Ektachrome - with that camera, so a polarising filter suited it best. One of the pleasures of the change from film to digital is the ability to mimic the effect of a one of these filters after a colour shot has been converted to black and white. Today's main photograph shows just that. In this instance the digital equivalent of a yellow filter has been applied. This won't be to the liking of some purists, but I'm very happy with it.

I've photographed the Maud Foster windmill in Boston, Lincolnshire, several times and posted a few of my better shots on the blog. It's named after the big agricultural drain on whose bank it stands, and is one of the most attractive mills that I know - elegant, tall, with lovely brick and interesting ancillary buildings. On this occasion, however, it wasn't its overall appeal that I reflected on; I got to thinking about its sails. It is relatively unusual in having 5, an odd number. An even number of sails was more often favoured, usually 4, 6 or 8, because with this configuration, the argument goes, opposing sails can be removed for repair or maintenance and the windmill retains balance. Now, for reasons that I find hard to put into words I find 5 sails very visually satisfying. Better than the four that is most often seen, and better too than six - which I don't dislike. Definitely an improvement on eight, a number that makes a windmill look like a desk fan - yes Heckington windmill, I'm thinking of you. Perhaps its the anthropomorphic form of the 5-sailer that appeals - a reminder of Leonardo's Vitruvian man. As I say, I can't articulate these likes and dislikes particularly well, any more than I can account for my preferring a two button jacket over a three button version, but it's definitely how I see things.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Design, phones and fishing boats

click photo to enlarge
There's a widely held belief that the design of objects improves with each passing year. That certainly seems to be the case with, for example, cars. Today's models are more comfortable, safer, more fuel efficient, and more rust-free than ever. But there are many objects where design doesn't follow that upward curve of improvement.

I've mentioned before the new teapots that can't pour without dripping despite the fact that the solution to this failing was discovered centuries ago. Then there are shower controls. You'd think that the means of regulating the flow and heat of potentially scalding water would be either standardised - like headlight switches on cars - or at least made blindingly obvious to the first-time user of the shower. But no, it seems that every time I step into an unfamiliar shower I have to try to work out how the controls operate and then risk being burned by hot water. This appears to be because shower designers are more interested in the appearance of the controls than in safety of the user.

I recently bought a pair of new cordless phones from a reputable manufacturer. However, after a couple of weeks I discovered that there was a fault that necessitated me returning them. But, I'd have returned them anyway because the clarity of the voices I heard through the earpiece was simply not good enough. When I, temporarily, plugged in a corded phone - a low-cost model from a no-name manufacturer - voices could be heard as clearly as anyone could wish. Of course, the old-style phone didn't have a light-up display, a choice of ring-tones or a built-in directory. Nor did it show me the name of the caller and the time etc, etc ad nauseam. No, it simply fulfilled its primary function of letting me hear my callers clearly, something that many modern cordless phones seemed to have relegated to a secondary concern behind a cluster of inessential gimmicks. I bought a replacement pair of cordless phones from a less well-known manufacturer, not quite as feature-laden, but which made a selling point of audibility. They work fine.

I was reflecting on progress (or lack of it) in design when I was looking at inshore fishing boats recently in Boston and King's Lynn. Among the steel hulled craft were a few, older timber-built boats dating from the the 1960s (according to the searchable database of UK Fishing Boats LN95 in the smaller photograph was built in 1969). Were the newer vessels, I wondered, better designs than the older boats? Would they last as long and give as good service? I don't know the answer to those questions but I do know that it isn't a given that they will be better in every respect.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (49mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 125
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Price, value and Oscar Wilde

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"Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." (from "The Picture of Dorian Grey")
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), Irish writer and poet

The quotation above is delivered by Oscar Wilde's character, Lord Henry, in the course of an apology for lateness - "I went to look after a piece of old brocade in Wardour Street and had to bargain for hours for it. Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." However, it seems to me that for many years it has accurately summarised the attitude of British politicians, both national and local. Our coalition government is cutting state spending, particularly that by local government with a barely disguised zeal. Under the pretext of "balancing the books" and "clearing up the mess left by the previous government" they are doing what their political philosophy of "shrinking the state" would have led them to do in any circumstances.

The effect of this in the wider country, particularly where the political complexion is the same as that at national level, is that services are being hacked to pieces. Lincolnshire County Council wants to reduce the spending on its library service by one third, closing many libraries, and hoping that volunteers will step in to fill the void created. In Boston the council is seeking to attract businesses to the town and at the same time is selling off public buildings in order to generate income and reduce outgoings. The glass fronted building in today's photograph used to be an art gallery and community space. For the past few years it has been empty, the only thing on display being a sign advertising its suitability for offices. There have been no takers. What the local council don't seem to realise is that companies looking to locate in an area, and attract workers to their businesses, are influenced by the cultural services available. Many new industries will only establish themselves in a place that offers their workforce theatres, galleries, public parks and facilities that give a buzz to the area. Politicians who close galleries and libraries whilst at the same time working to increase jobs in their area epitomise Wilde's quotation to perfection. It also brings to mind E. M. Forster in "Howard's End" - "Only connect!"

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Windows, frames and light

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Commercial buildings of today have virtually banished the window as a discrete architectural feature. Glass curtain walls have made the window as a transparent opening in a solid, opaque wall seem like a quaint artefact of the past and have merged the features of the elevation into nothing less than a giant mirror. However, in traditionally built houses the window continues, a hole that admits necessary light and that also frames the inhabitants' views of their surroundings.

Down the centuries windows have changed and evolved. Early medieval examples were often simply apertures, left open when the weather was kind and calm, covered with translucent greased cloth when inclement and windy. I've seen sixteenth century windows filled with glazed, iron casement windows that were only an approximation of the shape they filled, through which draughts must have whistled and where heavy curtains were required for any kind of winter warmth. Today's house windows tend towards the utilitarian, their plastic frames requiring neither paint nor a second glance.

Some of the most elegant windows date from the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries when simplicity and proportion were imposed on window design in a way that we could learn from today. I came across an example recently in the Guildhall in Boston, Lincolnshire. This mid fifteenth century building, erected for the Guild of the Blessed Virgin Mary, has been added to and modified over the years. Some of the upstairs windows were replaced in the eighteenth century and it was one of these that I stopped by to look down into the garden of Fydell House (also eighteenth century) next door. The way the light and sharp shadows fell across the fielded panels of the internal shutters had caught my eye, and as I looked at the nine-over-nine sash window and the view through the panes I was moved to take this photograph. What had appealed to me was one of the fundamental attractions of traditional windows that have all but disappeared where curtain walls have taken over, namely the way the entry of light models the interior and the way the firm outline of the window frames the world outside. It's a charming attribute that a painter such as Vermeer could build a career on and it's something that has the capacity to captivate us still.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On