Winter churchyard, Long Sutton

click photo to enlarge
Lincolnshire has many notable medieval churches, and those of the Fens are particularly remarkable. They were built with the money from wool, and as you travel from one to the other you have the feeling that the parishes of the time each sought to outdo the other in terms of size, ornament, or inventiveness. Many of the churches have a feature that distinguishes it from its neighbours, be it the tower, the window tracery, the woodwork of nave and chancel, the carving of capitals, etc

In the case of St Mary in the large village of Long Sutton the size of the church impresses, as does the thirteenth century tower that was originally completely detached from the nave, and the Norman columns and arcades are unexpected after seeing the later exterior. However, the stand out feature of this church today is the tall lead-covered timber spire (in herringbone pattern) with its four lead-covered pinnacles, all of which are said to be the oldest in the country, dating from the early 1200s.

I took my photograph on a damp January afternoon with the remains of autumn's leaves decaying by the gravesides and the skeletal trees allowing a better view from the west than is possible when they are in leaf.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Mary, Long Sutton, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Ivy, like rust, never sleeps

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A few weeks ago I was well into the third day of cutting an area of rampant ivy from a vertical-lap wooden fence when, instead of hitting the chisel with my wooden mallet, I hit my hand. The pain was excruciating and I thought I'd broken my index finger. However, an hour or so later, after ice-pack treatment, I began to think that bruising was the worst of it. And, after a few days that's what transpired. This patch of ivy had expanded over the years, despite me regularly and savagely chopping it back. Of course, ivy is like rust, it never sleeps, it is always colonising fresh ground. So, having had enough of it, and in agreement with my neighbour, we decided to be rid of it. It is now gone, though I'm sure some will appear from the ground in a fresh attempt to re-assert itself when spring comes around.

I remembered my ivy (and my finger) recently when I was photographing this corner of the churchyard at Long Sutton, Lincolnshire. You might think this is a neglected acre or two of God's ground. Nothing could be further from the truth. The churchyard is well-maintained and its fine collection of seventeenth century, Georgian and later tombs are well displayed all year round. But, by way of contrast a few edges are left in a semi-wild state, and it was one of these patches that drew my photographer's eye. I liked the the contrast of the deep shade, the ivy-covered gravestones and the prominent uncovered cross, with the sunlit, orderly graveyard beyond. As we went on our way, I thought about the volunteers who must periodically control the ivy to prevent it completely smothering the trees and the gravestones, leaving them undifferentiated mounds of shiny leaves. I didn't envy them their task.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (60mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8 Shutter
Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:1100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The dignified terrace

click photo to enlarge

Between about 1725 and 1735 the building speculator, John Simmons, erected a row of seven houses along the east side of Grosvenor Square, London. They were designed in such a way that the central house was larger than the others with a pediment and rusticated quoins. The house at each end of the row was also emphasised, but to a lesser extent. The result was that the terrace looked like a single, large and expensive building. This idea was then developed by the builder/architect, Edward Shepeard, on the north side of the square. His row of houses had the appearance of a fashionable, Palladian villa. At the same time, in Bath, John Wood the Elder (1704-1754) surpassed these efforts with a grand design on the north side of Queen Square. It too had a central pediment, but also a rusticated ground floor, a piano nobile emphasised by Corinthian pilasters, and embellished end blocks. It looked every bit the grand Palladian house of the sort that was appearing on country estates throughout the British Isles. This idea was expanded by Wood, his son and other architects with fine crescents and circuses, and soon such developments - long facades composed as a piece but actually subdivided into a row of dwellings - were appearing all over the country. The basic idea had been taken from Italian Renaissance designs, but these British architects made it very much their own.

Though buildings composed in this way were generally associated with prestigious developments such as those found in the London squares, humbler efforts began to appear too. In fact, as the grand terrace was adapted to a less wealthy clientele, the utilitarian, working- and middle-class terrace was often elevated to the point where the trajectories of the two forms met. I came across one such example a while ago in Long Sutton, Lincolnshire. The terrace of four houses at 22-28 Market Street were built around 1820. The composition is symmetrical with the carriage archway marking the centre point. Four arched doorways indicate the four dwellings, and it is quite obvious which windows belong to which house, with the exception of those over the central arch. Presumably the dwellings to the left and right of this are slightly larger than those at each end: the possession of four first storey windows and an extra dormer window compared with the three of the others proclaim this. Looking at the chimneys it appears that each property has a full stack and half a stack, though the leftmost gable stack has been removed.

This facade is very much a, later, middling cost, provincial essay in the terrace as a single composition. It lacks the grandeur of the examples cited above, and there is a certain awkwardness to its proportions. The first floor windows seem too squashed together to me and I'd like to see the outer doors not quite so close to the edge of the facade. In fact, I'm surprised that the main elevation wasn't visually "closed" by pilasters on the extreme left and right. It's a device that was popular at this time, is evident on a few buildings in the street (see smaller photograph), and would help here. The panelling of the doors themselves is very odd, not to say clumsy, as is their rather skimped surrounds and the inelegant fanlights above. And yet I can't help but feel that though the terrace is the work of a builder rather than an architect, the row does have a certain style, presence and interest that adds a slightly decayed, artisan grace to the street in which it stands.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Heraldry and grave diggers

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Heraldic coats of arms as we know them today became common in Europe around the middle of the twelfth century. They identified a family, especially the men when they were in armour, but were also used in sculpture, interior decoration and stained glass. Coats of arms were passed down through families by inheritance, often with modifications following marriage.

A typical coat of arms has a shield (escutcheon). Its surface (field) employs various colours (tinctures) in shapes (ordinaries) with motifs such as animals, leaves, shells etc (charges). A written phrase (motto) on a scroll or banner is often found below the shield. To left and right are figures, usually people or animals (supporters). The shield is topped by a helmet, its style dependent on rank, which may have a crest and is usually flanked by ragged cloth (mantling).

Recently I stood in the south aisle of the medieval church of St Mary at Long Sutton, Lincolnshire, and looked up at a memorial that included a coat of arms (of sorts). It wasn't the kind that you often see, carefully sculpted and carved in marble or fine stone, a tribute to a man (or woman) of wealth and importance. Rather, it was crudely fashioned and made fast and loose with the heraldic vocabulary. In fact, I was in two minds as to whether it was a naive attempt to emulate the style of the deceased's "betters", or a mischievous parody that poked fun at the style. The convex disc at the bottom of the memorial, in the place where a motto might be on a coat of arms, was difficult to read, the carving being barely better than scratch marks. However, from what I could read it appeared to be words in memory of someone who died in the early 1700s, perhaps 1725. One look at the carving above the disc make it very obvious that the person must have been a grave digger.

The shield is divided into four (quartered) by two large bones. In the top left corner is the bell that would toll for the deceased. The top right corner has keys on a chain, perhaps symbolising St Peter and the hope of entry into heaven. At the bottom left is a coffin and what appear to be two rib bones, whilst at the bottom right are tools of the trade of a gravedigger - a pick axe and spade. The supporters are a man, full of life, and a skeleton. Quite what is in place of the helmet above the centre of the shield I'm not sure. However, it may be a clumsy depiction of the simple helm found on the coat of arms of an untitled person. If so, the crest that surmounts it looks for all the world like an hour glass in a wooden frame, the sands of time marking the passage of life. The mantling resembles the sort of palm-like leaves that the eighteenth century often used to represent the Tree of Life. Further leaves provide the "ground" on which the supporters stand.

So, is it crude emulation or knowing parody? It's hard to say, and it may be a bit of both. What is certain is that the coat of arms documents its time in an interesting and entertaining way, and seemed like a good subject for a photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/50
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Lime trees, ageing and coincidence

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Like most people, during my younger years I saw the last quarter or so of my expected life span as something to be concerned about. Now that I'm entering that period I haven't banished all those worries about the possible course of my physical and mental health, but I have discovered that ageing can bring pleasures that the young don't always see.

I was reminded of this the other day when  I stopped off in Long Sutton to make my second visit to the lime tree avenue that leads to the local cemetery. I'd photographed it in August 2011 when the trees were in leaf, and I wondered what it offered when the branches were bare. A woman was walking her dog towards me and I made use of her presence as a complementary detail in my photographic composition. As she approached we exchanged greetings and fell into conversation. We learned that she was ninety years old, walked her aged, partially blind dog twice daily in a quite long circuit that included the avenue, and that, like us, she wasn't a native "Yellowbelly". We learned a little of her long life, the places she had lived, the things she liked to do and much else, all in the space of ten or fifteen minutes. As we went on our way I reflected that conversations of this sort with complete strangers, that are very common among older people, are much rarer with the young and middle-aged, and are often a real pleasure.

When I got home and started to process my photograph a thought that I'd had during my afternoon talk came back to me. Is the person I spoke to the same person that I'd included in my earlier photograph of the lime tree avenue? On close inspection of both photographs I find that, remarkably, it is! What are the chances? Probably greater than I might imagine, but an interesting coincidence nonetheless. And here's a further thought. A few weeks ago I was contacted by someone who had seen and heard about this particular avenue on television. She then searched for it on line with a view to going to photograph it, and finding my image, emailed me with a query about its precise location. I sent her a Google Maps link. What I'd be interested to know now is this: has she photographed it yet, and if she has, does her photograph include a white haired lady walking her dog?

I like to produce a sepia photograph every now and then because the effect pleases me. This photograph seemed to be a good opportunity to do so.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The lime tree avenue

click photo to enlarge

A title or caption to a photograph works very much like the title of a poem - it influences the way you see what follows. A photograph I took in Swineshead, Lincolnshire, illustrates this quite well. The old brick building with the pointed door and shadows from nearby trees looks interesting. However, with the title, "The Gravedigger's Door", it takes on an entirely different character. You wonder what's behind the door, your mind begins to wander into darker places, and the shadows, perhaps, take on the appearance of fingers!

Today's photograph shows an elderly lady walking her dog along a fine lime tree avenue at Long Sutton, Lincolnshire. The character of the image is fairly neutral. However, if I tell you that the gates at the end of the avenue open on to the cemetery a different mood may well start to pervade the shot. The age of the person can become more significant, and there is the temptation to to fabricate little storylines in your head. Why is she alone? Is she going to visit a grave? Whose grave?

Of course none of this may have been in the mind of the person who took the shot because any appreciation or reaction to an image is a consequence of what the photographer offers and what the viewer brings. In fact, I took the shot, very quickly, solely for the composition down the path with its rows of trees. The figure added foreground interest and by being off-centre broke the symmetry quite well.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 90mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 1250
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Wide angle tulips

click photo to enlarge
Last week, with a group of people, I visited a number of Lincolnshire churches. One of those on our intinerary was St Mary at Long Sutton. This marvellous medieval building is known by architectural historians for its lovely, almost detached tower that has one of the earliest well-preserved lead spires in the country, as well as its fine Norman, three-tier nave arcades. People who don't have an interest in eccesiastical architecture are more likely to know St Mary's for the fine flower festival displays that fill the church every year at this time, and for its beautiful collection of tulips that grace the churchyard.

It was in connection with flowers rather than architecture that I made my visit the other day. I'd been to Long Sutton last year for the first time, and on that occasion took my DSLR, a collection of lenses, and shot the building as well as the flowers: regular viewers of the blog may remember this image. However, this time I decided to restrict myself to the compact LX3, and work within its limitations: today's photographs are the two best images to result from my endeavours.

This year I caught the tulips in pretty much perfect condition, with drifts of different colours and varieties positively glowing under the trees' canopy of freshly opened green leaves. Anyone who looks at the camera details that I include with the photographs that are posted may have noticed that when it comes to the LX3 I use it at the widest point of its zoom (24mm/35mm equiv.) much more often than at any other setting. That is the case with both of today's images. In fact, I do wonder whether I'd be happiest with a compact that had a wide fixed focus lens such as Olympus and Panasonic are offering in Micro Four Thirds because it seems to suit me down to the ground.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1 (Photo 2)
Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/200 (1/250)
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Blood red tulips

click photo to enlarge
I've photographed more tulips this year than ever before. Perhaps it's been a good year for tulips. Maybe I've got an increased liking for the flower. Or is that they best satisfy my spring lust for the deep, glowing colours that have been absent over the winter months? Whatever the reason, I've processed 14 photographs of tulips out of the c.50 shots that I've taken. For me that's a very high conversion rate.

I reckon that I process about 10-20% of my RAW images. I discard about 50% of what I shoot, and I keep the RAW files of the other 30-40% in the unprocessed state because I judge them to be good enough to keep "just in case". I don't know how this compares with other amateur photographers. I've always imagined that I take fewer images and convert more than the average snapper, but that's just a feeling, and isn't based on an objective survey.

This is another of the images from the churchyard at Long Sutton in Lincolnshire. A cluster of red tulips had been planted adjacent to some white ones. I positioned myself so that I was shooting into the sun and could capture the lovely effect of the light coming though those blood red petals. I left a band of the white ones along the top of the frame to add contrast and to intensify the colour of the blooms below.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19mm (150mm/300mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Flowers and churches

click photo to enlarge
Visit any English church, at any time of year, and you are likely to see displays of flowers. In the building the sills of ancient windows will have a vase of garden or bought blooms. The font at the west end of the south aisle may have a larger display at its foot, and at other strategic points, particularly the chancel and sanctuary, flowers will feature, especially lilies. The popularity of this variety in churches stems from its long use in Christian iconography as a symbol of beauty and purity. As the seasons change so do the church flowers, and when flowers are in short supply during the winter months, leaves and berries often take their place.

Weddings, harvest festival and Christmas are times when a church receives greater quantities of floral decoration. However, for the sheer number of flowers no period of the year compares with the time of the Flower Festival. I've just spent a couple of days visiting flower festivals at my local churches, and have been impressed and delighted by the displays that parishioners have put on. Many were themed displays around religious and secular subjects: "Jesus is...", "London Streets" and "Famous Lincolnshire People" were three of the topics chosen this year. I took a number of photographs, and I may post any that look good enough for reproduction. Whilst I made my tour I also looked at the churchyard displays of flowers and secured a number of images that please me. Churchyards flowers fall into two camps - those that are placed by a particular grave as a tribute, and those planted with the purpose of beautifying the area around the church. Of all the displays I saw recently none could compare with the tulips around the ancient church of St Mary at Long Sutton. The Fenland area of Lincolnshire is where most of the UK-raised bulbs are grown, and Long Sutton seemed to have examples of many of the wide variety that are produced.

This image shows a wonderful, colourful confusion of varieties under the dappled light of the trees.

photograph & text(c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19mm (150mm/300mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On