The photographic attractions of rain

click photo to enlarge
The other evening we were in the Lincolnshire town of Louth. Unusually I wasn't there with photography in mind. However, I was carrying my pocket camera. As we walked up Eastgate, dodging the showers and occasionally pausing in closed shop doorways as the downpours intensified, I admired the reflections of the car headlights on the wet road, the glow from the street lamps and the brightness of the windows that were still lit. Those features, together with the light that remained in the cloudy sky, suggested a photograph and so I took several quick shots. This is the best of the bunch with its balanced composition achieved by the road and buildings leading from the main point of interest, the prominent car on the right, to the secondary point of interest,the church spire on the left.

As we continued to the business that brought us to the town I reflected on how something as unpromising, and often unwelcome and unpleasant, as rain can change a scene so that it becomes a much better subject for a photograph. It's essentially those reflections on the wet surfaces of the roads and pavements that effect the transformation, multiplying the highlights against the dark background. It reminds me of the way the sea or any stretch of water magnifies the power of a sunset.

Over the years I've found rain both a fruitful subject in itself and a great enhancer of a subject. Raindrops on the window pane can make a fascinating subject when paired with good light and an interesting background. So too can raindrops on leaves or flowers. And familiar subjects can be transformed when bright sunlight and fair weather is eschewed in favour of a downpour, even if you are sheltering under an umbrella at the time.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24.1mm (65mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 1600
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Market Hall, Louth

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The nineteenth century English market hall is usually a combination of the decorative and the strictly functional. The aim is to provide an open covered space where traders can sell from stalls and people can browse their wares, safe from the vagaries of the weather. They are, like the rather grander glazed arcades, an early shopping mall, though market halls tend to cater for less expensive or fresh goods of the kind seen on open market stalls. So, the utilitarian aspect of their design usually relates to the provision of the large, covered space, and the decorative features are at their most pronounced on the main elevation. In this respect they are not unlike that other characteristically nineteenth century building, the corn exchange, where the structure is both a commercial undertaking and a symbol of civic pride.

The market hall at Louth in Lincolnshire exemplifies all these characteristics particularly well. It was built in 1866-7 by the Louth architects, Rogers and Marsden. This firm had a reasonably wide range of commissions including churches, church restoration, vicarages etc. With Louth market hall's facade they adopted a Byzantine Gothic style featuring a set-back, narrow, spired, clock tower (too narrow for me) between two flanking wings. The structure uses mainly red brick with stone and yellow brick details. The wings have shops at the base, a fine row of round-arched windows above with rather nice pointed dripmoulds lined by string-moulding. Below the gutter is a fine cornice, and the whole is topped by Welsh slate. One unusual feature of the facade - that doesn't work for me - is the fact that the main entrance is set so far back as to be lost in shadow: this de-emphasises it rather than drawing the eye.

The back of the building is quite a contrast, owing more to industrial buildings or train sheds than an acknowledged historical style. In some respects I like it more than the front. It's big, bold, functional, eye-catching in the narrow street, and has nice details, especially the two doors with their scroll hinges. The unadorned metal of the semi-circular window arch with its rivets showing is great, even if the scalloped wind-bracing at the corners of the rectangular window lights detracts from the industrial aesthetic.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A

Louth steeple

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"That Louth parish church is one of the most majestic of English parish churches need hardly be said. It is what it is thanks to its steeple, which has good claims to be considered the most perfect of Perp (Perpendicular period) steeples." Nikolaus Pevsner (1902-1983) German-born British historian of art and architecture

The spired steeples of Lincolnshire's medieval churches individually and collectively surpass those of the churches of any other English county. From the austere beauty of the early broach spires of Sleaford and Frampton, to the fifteenth century magnificence of Grantham and Louth, with a host of others between, they are without parallel. Only a very few, such as Newark in Nottinghamshire, come close to matching the splendours on display in Lincolnshire.

When one considers this subject from the perspective of architectural history, and one looks at proportion, innovation in design and decoration, and the relationship between the rest of the church and the spired steeple then, despite Pevsner's praise of Louth, I think it's quite a close call between that church and Grantham. However, a spired steeple is more than a piece of architecture. It is also a major vertical accent in a town, and the way in which it contributes to views and vistas from near and far needs to be considered too. An example of a spired steeple that makes much less impact on its surroundings than might be imagined is that of Norwich Cathedral. When one considers Louth and Grantham, both in towns with hills, both without any real competition as far as tall buildings go, then it is Louth that clearly makes the greater impact.

Today's photographs were taken on the same, very changeable day. The darker shot is a view from Bridge Street, the sunlit one shows the church seen from Westgate, a fine street of distinguished, mainly Georgian, buildings. Both try to show something of the way this tower and spire are often framed by the surrounding buildings. This is something that happens very little at Grantham. Nor does Grantham's fine church advertise its presence from miles away over rolling hills as does that at Louth. Perhaps that's the next photograph of this building that I'll try to take.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 48mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Clean shots, obstructions and compromises

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I'm interested in architecture, and so I take photographs of buildings and structures of all kinds and all periods. In a country with a lot of history, such as England, it isn't difficult to find interesting and attractive subjects for the camera. Large, famous or important buildings such as churches, country houses, office blocks and the like are often sited with open space around them: they are designed to be seen, to impress, and to say something about the person who had them built. Consequently, securing a "clean" shot that includes the whole of the structure is usually relatively easy. In fact you can often take a number of such photographs that show different facades and illustrate the context in different ways. However, when you go down the scale to smaller houses, town churches, and other buildings in built-up areas, it is often very difficult to get that unimpeded shot.

There isn't a single overriding obstruction that impinges on photography in towns: there are many. And if one doesn't get you then another one surely will. Motor vehicles are omnipresent. There simply isn't enough space on our small island to provide off-street parking for everyone who would like it, therefore streets are littered with cars, and you have to accept them in your images. Frequently I'll be lining up a shot in a road that has signs forbidding parking, a situation where you can get a shot that doesn't include parked vehicles. But all too often a large delivery van will draw up in front of the chosen building and begin unloading. Ten minutes is the maximum allowed for this in no parking areas, and I tell you, that can feel like an hour when you're waiting for it to move on. Then there's street lights. These are spaced according to the needs of the pedestrian, which is fair enough, but I sometimes wish that they'd take account of the streetscape and the photographer! Traffic and other signs are also a problem. It's not only their obtruding physical presence, it's the bright colours - red, blue, white, etc, that are designed to be seen, and consequently glow like beacons in your images. And don't get me started on telegraph poles and overhead wires. Trees can be bothersome too when they screen the subject that you'd like to photograph.

I had that problem when I was framing this late eighteenth century house in Louth a few days ago.It's a distinguished building on a fine street that features buildings from the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries. The twin curved steps up to the main entrance on the piano nobile are reasonably common on such houses in large cities and towns, but less usual in a small place like Louth. However, I could not find a position on the pavement outside the house to compose the shot I wanted because the trees got in the way. In such circumstances you simply have to accept the compromise shot that is available. I settled on this one that uses the trees as contrast, offers framing of sorts, and which contextualises the building.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Tower vaulting compared - Louth and Ludlow

click photos to enlarge
During my primary school years, in any spare moments that the teacher allowed, I loved to draw and doodle. And, as I progressed through my education, painting and drawing became subjects that I pursued academically in greater depth. However, picking up my theme of a couple of weeks ago, that everything important in my education happened in the primary years (age 5-11), I want to dwell on doodling. At one stage, when I was 7 or 8 years old, I had a penchant for making symmetrical patterns with a pencil and ruler. I'd start with a square, connect the corners with diagonals, find the centre of each side of the square, connect those, then build a pattern that developed from that basic "Union Flag" shape.

The other day, when I was processing these two images of tower vaulting, it suddenly struck me that my fascination with this aspect of medieval Gothic architecture may well derive from those childhood doodles. Look at the patterns here and you'll see those same diagonals and cross shape underpinning the basic structure in each instance. The central circle is there by necessity, and usually lifts out to allow access to the bells. The Ludlow design has cusping incorporated into the geometry, giving it a less regular feel, but the Louth vaulting is strictly rectilinear when seen from below.

Anyone who has explored this blog will have come across other examples of tower vaulting photographed from below, and all those other designs are individual. With today's images I decided that I'd use my widest lens which is 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.) and make the columned piers that support the tower part of the composition. So, each picture has a centre illuminated by tower windows, and has four arches. Why does Louth have windows filling three of its arches? Well, that tower is at the west end of the church, whereas Ludlow's is a crossing tower, in the centre of the building, off which are the nave, the chancel and a pair of transepts. You can tell which is the chancel because it has the most elaborately decorated roof.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Top (Bottom), where different
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11(22mm), 11(22mm)/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6, (3.5)
Shutter Speed: 1/80, (1/200) seconds
ISO: 400, (200)
Exposure Compensation: -2.7, (-0.7) EV
Image Stabilisation: On