A Ledbury view

click photo to enlarge
The market town of Ledbury in Herefordshire is a place I visit fairly frequently, and over the past few years I've collected quite a few photographs of the place, only a few of which please me. This one was taken in early March on a cold, cloudy day. It attempts to encapsulate the town in a single photograph. That's isn't something that is easy to do, and my image doesn't do it to my satisfaction. However, as a streetscape it isn't a complete failure, with visual interest across the frame.

The photograph shows the main street where it widens to accommodate the weekly market. It shows the unwelcome intrusion of cars and the shoppers and tourists attracted to the visually appealing independent shops that flank the route. The black and white, timber-framed structure is the Market House, the town's most prominent building. It was begun after 1617 and completed after 1655. Herefordshire is an area where timber-framed buildings dating from the 1400s through to the 1700s are relatively common, and Ledbury has several such of which this is the most prominent. The first storey rooms are raised on posts of local Spanish chestnut and the space below was designed to give market traders some shelter. It is still used for its original purpose today.

The other prominent building on the left of the photograph is the Barrett Browning Memorial Institute and Clock Tower. It dates from 1892-6 and is the work of the Brightwen Binyon. Pevsner doesn't pull his punches, describing it as "really terrible", observing that though it acknowledges the local timber-framing it does not harmonise with it. He's right that it isn't a great building but it is a tall, visual punctuation at this part of the town.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Market House, Ledbury, Herefordshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.2
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Flowers in the window

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A large, mixed bunch of flowers displayed alongside other vessels and objects, such as these that I saw in the window of a house in Ledbury, Herefordshire, always reminds me of the Dutch school of flower painting that flourished in the seventeenth century. Here, however, the slender Georgian glazing bars and the small panes of glass added, to my mind, a touch of nineteenth century Dickens.

© Tony Boughen
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.9mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Same lane, different lighting

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One of my regular visits to Lebury in Herefordshire coincided with a bout of minor illness and so my photographic foraging in the area wasn't as productive as it sometimes can be. However, my morning walk to collect my newspaper took me, as it always does, past the entry to Church Lane. So, when I'd collected my "Guardian" I went the few yards back on my route to take some photographs.

Anyone remembering my photographs of this narrow, pedestrians-only, lane that I took in February of this year might wonder what else there is to glean from the location. However, I've always believed that light, time of day, season and weather can make sufficient difference for anywhere to be worth photographing on several occasions. Here, I first took a shot that was compositionally as close as I could get it to the main photograph from my earlier attempt. Then I went back down to the entrance to the lane and took the view from the bollards up to the distant church spire. Late April's early morning light, combined with the position of the sun just to the right of straight ahead, made all the difference. So too did the dynamic range of the Nikon which I'm finding to be pretty good.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 27mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Ballflower ornament

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Symbolism has always interested me. That must account - in part - for my fascination with the history of ecclesiastical architecture. Churches are packed with symbolism and it is sometimes a real pleasure to wander around one of these old buildings decoding the fittings, furnishings and architecture, seeing how artists and craftspeople used ornament to illustrate their faith.

In Christian churches the Trinity is especially subject to symbolic representation: how else can you depict God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost as a single entity? In 2010 I photographed and wrote about a building that is almost entirely dedicated to the symbolic representation and celebration of the Trinity - Rushton Triangular Lodge. However, every church, somewhere or other builds in references to the number three because of its special significance. Three steps often lead up to the altar. The baptismal font is frequently at the top of three steps too. Windows are often split into three "lights", triangular shapes frequently feature in ornament, three-leaved foliage abounds, tracery has trefoils; I've even seen in a very modern church three vertical lines moulded into the concrete above an altar, rather like cricket wickets with the bails missing. Mind you, minimalism of that kind wasn't unknown in the eighteenth century, as this small spire at Little Gidding church in Cambridgeshire shows - notice the three rectangular holes piercing it, surely another representation of the Trinity.

In the period around 1300 to 1325 a particular form of ornament came into being that represents the Trinity. The ballflower is a three petalled flower that encloses a ball: three and one if not quite 3 in one. You can see them in their dozens edging the tracery of this chapel window (above) of the church at Ledbury, Herefordshire. Its a small thing, but heavily repeated so that cumulatively it can't be ignored. I've always been in two minds about its effectiveness as ornament because it turns elegant, smooth, curving stone into stone with an encrusted, almost organic quality. Over the years I've decided that in small doses I like it, but I'm glad it quite quickly went out of fashion.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 34.9mm (94mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation:  -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photography, rejection and composition

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A large part of photography involves rejection. I'm not thinking of the way your output may be received by others, though rejection by an audience figures with photographs just as much as it does in any artistic or craft undertaking. No, in this instance I'm thinking of the rejection of that which is not needed to tell the picture's story.

When I come to compose a photograph I find that my mind either concentrates on including the parts that I want, or, more frequently, focuses on eliminating those aspects that are not required so that I am left with only the desired elements. Rejection, it has always seemed to me is more important in photography than addition. In painting it is the other way round: the blank canvas is built into the final work by addition after addition.

However, there are times when, even though you've included all you want and rejected all that you don't want, there is a case for refining down further still. That's because, sometimes, a part is more expressive of the whole than is the whole itself.

It was that thought that came to mind when I was photographing Church Lane in Ledbury, Herefordshire, the other day. This narrow, medieval and later street, with the old church at the end, is a fine photographic subject. However, each time I looked at my shot of the cobbled alley, the timber-framed buildings and the stone tower and spire on the camera screen I was less than satisfied with the outcome. After pondering the matter for a while I decided that this was because the essence of what makes the view interesting wasn't coming through in the image. So, as I passed by the location the next day, I switched the focal length from 28mm to 100mm, walked well into the lane, and concentrated my attention on the upper part of some near buildings and just part of the culminating tower and spire. The outcome is more agreeable to me than the wider (though still narrow) vista, though I'm sure there will be those who don't agree with that judgement.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A Ledbury sculpture by the Thornycrofts

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Thomas Thornycroft (1815-1885) and Mary Thornycroft (neé Francis) (1814-1895), were husband and wife sculptors. They met when Thomas was an assistant to Mary's father, the sculptor John Francis (1780-1861). Their work can be seen at many London locations, but like a lot of public sculptors of the Victorian period, familiarity with their work often doesn't bring recognition of the person (or people) who executed it.

One of the best known works by the Thornycrofts (sometimes John was principally responsible, at other times it was Mary) is the group representing Commerce on the Albert Memorial, though George Gilbert Scott, the architect responsible for the overall design of the Memorial, was critical of both the concept and composition. Another prominent London piece is Boadicea and her Daughters, a bronze of the queen of the Iceni tribe in her chariot, near Westminster Pier by the River Thames. The couple received commissions for civic pieces from many cities as well as for the royal family. Mary completed several busts and statues of Queen Victoria's children.

I recently discovered that the Thornycrofts were responsible for a memorial in Ledbury church, Herefordshire. This marble sculpture shows a sleeping child watched over by two angels. It commemorates the death of a child in the following words:

John Hamilton, the beloved infant son of John Martin and

Maria Henrietta, his wife.

Born April 23rd, 1850. Died March 18th, 1851

The work was apparently conceived by Mary Thornycroft and sculpted by her husband. It is a touching piece and one that was thought of a sufficiently high standard to be shown at the Great Exhibition in 1851.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO:320
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Hotels and ratings signs

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There was a time in my life when I walked, cycled and used public transport exclusively. One of my aims was to to avoid car ownership and the environmental destructiveness that is inherent in that form of transport. However, for various reasons, including the birth of a second son and the deliberate vandalising of British Rail by the Thatcher governments, I bought a car and it is now my main means of transport. However, I still cycle and I remain a member of the Cyclists' Touring Club (CTC) for the insurance it offers, the interesting magazine it publishes and to help the foremost body in Britain that supports the cyclist and the cause of cycling. I was briefly a member of the Automobile Association (AA) when membership came as part of the package with a car that I bought. However, I let that lapse because the organisation that claims to be the main voice for motorists in Britain kept making statements in support of motoring for which it had no mandate from its members and which were diametrically opposed to my beliefs.

Both of these organisations produced ratings signs to be fixed to the exterior of hotels, B&Bs etc. In the case of the CTC the winged wheel logo, often made of cast iron or enamel, began to be used from 1887 and denoted an establishment that offered good accommodation and service to cyclists. These early plaques can still be seen on some buildings as can its modern equivalent, a small sticker designed to be fixed to a window. Compared with the CTC the AA was a relative latecomer in the rating and recommending of hotels etc, having begun to award its plaques with 1 to 5 stars only from 1912. The AA continues to be a major player in the inspection and judging of the standards of accommodation, continuing to award stars and offer establishments ways of advertising its rating. However, as with the CTC, quite a few hotels still display an old AA sign that must have been awarded decades ago. I imagine there is some kind of stipulation that these must reflect a current rating - or perhaps not.

I was wondering about this latter point recently as I photographed just such a sign - an illuminated variant -  on the main facade of the Feathers Hotel in Ledbury, Herefordshire. It must date from before 1966 because in that year the AA changed to a sans serif font for its initials and signage. The deep yellow and black of the sign, along with Union flags, window boxes and hanging baskets, gave colour to the black and white of the ancient, timber-framed building, and offered a collection of details that seemed to have the makings of a photograph, so I pointed my camera at it and pressed the shutter.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Adding shadows to the mix

click photo to enlarge
I've said elsewhere in this blog that I like to use shadows in photographs. It seems to me that they add a dimension that is quite unique. Often their contribution is in the form of a doppelganger - an insubstantial echo of the solid objects or people in or around the subject. They also bring darkness, and with it contrast, that otherwise might be absent. But more than that, shadows inject mood into an image.

I've often wondered to what extent deep, primeval fears and feelings influence how we see shadows. Certainly mankind has woven the night and shadows into many of the myths, legends, stories, songs and other art that has come down the centuries to us. Even today shadows feature in film and TV simply to convey feeling and atmosphere. The success of the Danish TV series, "The Killing", and its sequels would have been much less if it hadn't been set largely at night. And, when I think of some of my favourite films, I notice cinematography that accentuates shadows and darkness figuring large in the list. In a post of January 2011 about black and white photography I said that David Lean's 1946 version of "Great Expectations" was a fine argument for the virtues of the monochrome medium in still photography. It uses shadows well too, of course. However, were I to nominate a film that showcases the value and power of shadows then I can think of no better example than Carol Reed's 1949 film, "The Third Man". Vienna at night, with its bomb damaged buildings, street lights and the shadows of people (and cats) as they scurry about, are magnificently conceived and contribute enormously to the high regard that the film continues to enjoy.

Today's photograph shows part of the facade of a Georgian street in Ledbury, Herefordshire. I liked the way the shadow of the buildings behind and to the side of me threw shapes and darkness across the sunlit composition. The stronger orange and the washed out yellow became more important elements with the shadow's depressing effect, and in my mind's eye I saw the composition as semi-abstract arrangement of shapes and colours.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 38mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation:N/A