Ringing chambers, platforms and floors

click photo to enlarge

English church bell ringing of the most common variety, usually known as change ringing, began in the 1600s with one of the earliest ringing societies, the Lincoln Cathedral Guild, dating from 1612. English church bells usually number 6 or 8, though there may be be fewer or more, and are located in the bell chamber at the top of the tower. They are not struck by hammers, but have an internal clapper that strikes the bell when it is rotated by a rope attached to a wheel. Below the bell chamber there is sometimes a room known as the sound chamber. The bell ropes pass through this room, which often holds the church clock mechanism, to a ringing chamber below. Bell ringers stand in the ringing chamber to pull the ropes that sound the bells. A very long distance between the bell and the person ringing is usually avoided because the ropes stretch making control more difficult. Where the church has a west tower there are often floors dividing the chambers described above. Crossing towers, however, are frequently vaulted, though some west towers are too. Where this is the case then bells are often rung from ground level with long bell ropes, but another solution is to install a ringing platform.

Today's main photograph shows one of the most hair-raising locations for bell ringing anywhere in the country. In Pershore Abbey, Worcestershire, a platform has been constructed 72 feet above the floor of the tower. To get to their places the ringers have to climb two stone spiral staircases, pass along a walkway through the roof, then negotiate a narrow passage and finally descend an iron "cage staircase" above the void below. The latter can be seen to the right of the bottom arm of the cross in the photograph. The central square is the suspended timber ringing platform where the campanologists do their work.


The photograph of the bottom of the tower of All Saints church at Holbeach, Lincolnshire, shows a different approach to the construction of a ringing platform. Here a more substantial structure  has been constructed, supported from the floor, and doubling as the roof of a small café at the base of the tower. The fact that the tower is not too tall has made this solution possible. The etched glass doors and windows add interest to the conception. The loss of the view of the west window is regrettable but inevitable.

Today's third photograph shows what happens in a tall church tower when no ringing chamber or platform is available. The bell ropes (also called the "pull") of Croyland Abbey, Lincolnshire, are thought to be the longest in England. Apparently four sets of rope guides are necessary to keep them in the required places. Interestingly, Croyland Abbey had one of England's early tuned peals. In the early tenth century Abbot Turketyl had a great bell cast. It was named "Guthlac", after St Guthlac, the abbey's founder. Abbot Egelric (975-984) had six more made to complete the tuned peal. These were named Bartholomew, Beccelm, Turketyl, Tatwin, Pega and Bega. This YouTube video clip shows the bells of Croyland Abbey being rung.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Intelligent Auto
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 320
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Croyland Abbey and blogging

click photo to enlarge
I had an email from a blog visitor the other day. It was quite complimentary about the images and prose, and at one point, in the most polite manner, the writer wondered why I didn't restrict my postings to the best shots that I produce, as is the case with many other photoblogs. I answered the question, but hearing it posed made me think that I should restate what my purpose is in producing PhotoReflect.

Let me say from the outset, that I only post photographs that, in some way or another, satisfy me: I'm the target audience. And so, to that extent, this blog is an entirely selfish exercise. The principle aim is to give my photography a purpose, and in so doing help me to improve. However, PhotoReflect differs from many photoblogs in that it includes an accompanying "reflection" that is an outlet for my thoughts and opinions. I spent much of my working life writing for, and speaking to, one audience or another, and the opportunity to write for me, for a change, seemed a good one. Furthermore, it helps to keeps the old grey (and getting greyer) matter active!

That being the case, the range of photographs I include on this blog is probably wider than is found on most others. I post images that, I think, stand as good photographs regardless of what they depict. But, I also post images that support the accompanying prose; or act as the spark that ignites the text. Consequently some images are posted mainly for the subject that they show. These are typically (though not exclusively) shots that don't make it into my Best of PhotoReflect galleries, and have less of a "Wow!" factor to them. Another reason for the wide range of images is to do with my personality: I'm a dabbler, with an interest in many things, and I like to have a go at many types of photography. So, a still-life might follow a macro, then it will be a landscape, followed by a semi-abstract, then a... well, you get the picture. One of my deeper interests is church architecture, so images of this kind feature fairly regularly too. If you're new to this blog I hope today's post gives you an insight into what it's about. If not, take it at its face value, and if you find something of interest, fine: if not, there's plenty more photoblogs out there.

Today's photograph is one of my church architecture record shots. Any merit that it has lies in it being a well-lit depiction of an interesting subject. It shows Croyland Abbey, Lincolnshire, one of many medieval monastic structures that were deliberately destroyed in the C16 following Henry VIII's break with Rome. The north aisle was left standing to serve as the parish church, and the nave, south tower, chancel and ancillary buildings were stripped of anything of value and the remains left to crumble. Today it makes a tall, eyecatching, sad, though somewhat romantic sight, standing over the surrounding village of Crowland on the flat Fenland landscape.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Green Man

click photo to enlarge
In my church-crawling I frequently come across the Green Man, a mystical face with foliage sprouting from its orifices. Often they peep out from the stone leaves of the fourteenth century capitals on nave columns. Carved wooden misericords often feature his disturbing visage. And occasionally I see him forming the decorative design of a stone or wooden boss that hides the joins of the roof vaulting, as with this example at Croyland Abbey, in the village of Crowland, Lincolnshire.

The origin of the Green Man is obscure. Many feel that he is of pagan origin, representing a fertility figure or a spirit of the trees, that was adopted and adapted by Christians along with symbols such as the yule log, the fir tree and mistletoe. Such figures are known in England from the eleventh century onwards, and they don't look out of place next to the grotesques and gargoyles that are carved on the inside and outside of old churches. This example, probably dating from the 1400s is high above the chancel of the abbey at Crowland. He is of the variety known as disgorging because he spews the foliage from his mouth. Other variants are the foliate head where the head itself is in the shape of a flower or leaves, often with additional vegetation, and the bloodsucker that has foliage coming out of every hole. The Croyland example seems to be sprouting oak leaves, a not unusual tree to find associated with a Green Man. What is unusual, however, is the gold colour: green is more usual where any colour remains or has been restored. However, gold is certainly very common on bosses, so perhaps that accounts for it.

I took my photograph lying on my back, directly below the Green Man, with my camera clamped to my face. On a dull day, in a dark interior, and without my tripod, I took several shots to be sure of getting one that was reasonably sharp.

photograph & text(c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 102mm (204mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.1
Shutter Speed: 1/5
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On