Earworms and couplings

click photo to enlarge
Earworms are terrible things. I mean, of course, the snippet of a tune that keeps playing itself over and over in your head to the point where it drives you to distraction. I recently had the Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen song, "Love and Marriage", on replay in my head. It's a song I positively dislike, one I remember from my early childhood when it was popular through Frank Sinatra's recording.  "Love and marriage", Frank repeatedly tells us, "goes together like a horse and carriage", and what's more, "you can't have one without the other." That was never true when the song was current and it's even less so today.

But, it is true that there are many instances where "you can't have one without the other." One example is the coupling of trees and shrubs with twentieth century rectilinear architecture. Architects' drawings and builders constructions alike are incomplete without the waywardness of branches and leaves as a counterpoint to the rigid verticals and horizontals of windows, doors, roof lines, storey separators etc. I took today's photograph in the city of Peterborough. The exterior of these offices consists of the same concrete panel with its centrally placed window repeated across every facade. Nearby, to offer contrast and soften the hard lines, are large trees. So, I decided to co-operate with the architects and incorporate the two in my photographic composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Concrete Offices and Branches, Peterborough
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (160mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Flying the Union flag

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I get the impression that the Union flag of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (the UK) is being flown more in recent years than was formerly the case. In January of 2007 I posted a piece about just this subject, noting that it appeared less often than some of the flags of the constituent countries of the UK. Perhaps the referendum on Scotland's independence, that narrowly voted for that country's continuance as part of the UK, has concentrated political minds and a more concerted effort to promote the benefits of unity is under way. One can only hope so.

During my lifetime some nation states, for example West and East Germany, have merged. However, fragmentation has been much more common, and in, for example, eastern Europe, it has at times been very difficult to keep up with the number and names of newly appearing countries. This year the UK's lamentable government, that exercises total power on the back of a mere 36.9% of those who voted, is to invite us to vote on whether to accept a package of changes relating to our membership of the European Community, or to exit from that political grouping. This is being done largely in a (futile) attempt to resolve the ambivalent view of the Conservative Party about being part of Europe. I shall vote for continuing membership for economic and social reasons. I will also be mindful of the fact that wars in Europe are not uncommon, that they usually begin with disputes between near neighbours, and that the people of countries that work together and share common values and aspirations don't, as a rule, try and kill one another.

Today's photograph shows the Union flag flying on the City Hall in Peterborough. My first shot was from the side that was fully lit by the sun. It was fine but relatively uninteresting. I liked this contre jour shot better. It was taken when the sun was behind a cloud. The shadows of the building were much more dramatic and the composition gave greater prominence to the colours of the translucent flag.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Union Flag, Peterborough City Hall
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm (90mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Not better, just different

click photo to enlarge
There are two basic approaches to starting a business - offer something that hasn't been offered before, or do something that is already on offer, but do it better. Those two stratagems also apply to photography it seems. There are many photographers who crave novelty in their subjects, needing to shoot that which they have never shot before. And others - I include myself in this group - do a lot of photography that involves re-shooting a subject in different light, weather, time of year etc. In recent years I've taken quite a few shots of the Humber Bridge because I've driven over it and lingered around it every couple of months. The different circumstances have been enough to produce shots that offer diverse interest.

Today's photograph is about the sixth shot I have taken of the Old Guildhall in Peterborough but only the second I've posted on this blog; four I judged to be not good enough. The weather of today's shot contrast markedly with the first shot I posted though the season is the same, and I like it less. But, it offers something that pleases me, particularly in black and white with the application of the digital equivalent of a yellow filter.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Into the city canyons

click photo to enlarge
The other day I ventured into the canyons of the city of Peterborough. All large cities have these places, precincts where tall towers, flats and blocks of high offices crowd the streets on every side, blocking out the light, casting almost perpetual shadow, giving a feeling of enclosure and oppression. In Peterborough the canyons are not so great and grand as in, say, London, but they are there nonetheless.

Architects and planners try to ameliorate the gloom and overwhelming domination of these big buildings in a number of ways. Some cities insist on the upper storeys being set back from the main walls, elsewhere plazas and urban spaces are required to let periodic pools of light illuminate the street level. Glass curtain walls, clear or tinted, and mirrored glass seek to bounce the available light around, from building to building, making the most of what is available. And, where the towers are not so tall, trees are planted to soften the imperious rectilinearity of the architecture.

Today's photograph shows a tree in such a setting. Its irregularity and diagonals break up the horizontals and verticals of the residential flats, the offices and a reflected hotel. The mirror wall's reflection makes one tree into two, and shows the sunny face alongside the actual tree's shaded side. In summer its leaves will soften the architecture still further, and, whilst it will add to the ground level shadows, at least it will be at a time of year when the light from above is stronger than it was on my recent visit.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting on reflections

click photo to enlarge

Today's photograph brings together two Peterborough buildings that I've featured before. One is the determinedly modern and reflective offices of a firm of solicitors (lawyers), and the other is a large, brick building, full of fine, simple details, a former teacher training college of 1856-64 by the eminent Victorian architect, Sir George Gilbert Scott.

I suppose it's quite natural for a photographer to be fascinated by reflections. After all, the art of photography is, in part, making a permanent reflection of the world using a camera. A photograph of the sort I've posted today could be seen as a reflection of a reflection. One of the reasons architects use mirror glass is to reflect the surroundings in their creation and thereby better "anchor" the structure in its setting. Sometimes it's to acknowledge or respect an adjacent building. That would seem to be the motivation behind the glass wall shown in one of my earliest blog posts. At other times the reflective glass is used to visually lighten the building, to reduce its apparent mass. And then there are times when the mirroring seeks to retain the actual light in the locality, ameliorating the shadows and gloom that a new, big building can bring to its neighbours.

The modern building is a good example of this kind of structure. Though only a modest four storeys it graces its location. I particularly like the faceted bays that reach from the ground to the top of the elevations, and the way they are turned into two storey oriels where the building fronts the major road. The paving, trees, grass and ivy ground-cover that takes up quite a lot of the site works well with the building and enhances this part of the road. My photograph shows part of the side elevation facing the side of Peterscourt, and contrasts the modern materials of the new building with the traditional bricks and tiles of its neighbour. It was good to find that the architects wrapped their reflective glazing around the building and didn't, as many still do, concentrate their spending at the front.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Another go with split-toning

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Every now and then I like to apply a split toning effect to a photograph. My most recent attempts are with a photograph of an old cinema in Sleaford, Lincolnshire, and the House of Correction at Folkingham (also in Lincolnshire). My best effort to date is a shot of the re-vamped sea-front at Cleveleys, Lancashire. This was taken when I lived in north-west England and I like it sufficiently well to have a framed print of the subject on the wall above my desk in my study.

I imagine some people might wonder what it is about split-toning that attracts me. As I've explained elsewhere in this blog it was one of the photographic treatments that I always wanted to do when I processed my own prints in the darkroom. However, I never got round to buying the coloured toners necessary for the task. The advent of digital, especially the plug-ins to image processing programs that allow this effect to be emulated very well, have allowed me to indulge my fascination. I have to say though, that it's only the sepia/blue mix, where the highlights are sepia and the shadows blue, that I like. It is (and was) common to apply split-toning in other combinations such as magenta/yellow, red/green or magenta/orange, but none of these work as well for me as my chosen pairing. I especially enjoy the 1930s poster-like, graphic quality that results from applying sepia/blue to a black and white photograph.

Today's photograph is probably a candidate to put alongside the image in a post that I gave the title, "The 'Guess the building' game", because looking at this one you could be forgiven for thinking that it was a chemical plant, a high-tech warehouse, perhaps a severely modern hotel or maybe the interior of a maximum security prison. You'd be unlikely to think that it was the atrium/stair-well of a city council's offices. Of course, "council offices" is no longer good enough to describe such places, too socialist sounding I think, so this one is styled a "customer service centre". Looking at the detail and vaguely Art Deco curves of the image I immediately marked it as one to try with split-toning. I'm not disappointed by the outcome.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Megapixels and cropping

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How many megapixels does a photographer need? That question is as difficult and as pointless to answer precisely as, "Which is the best camera?" It all depends on your requirements in terms of image size and the type of photography you undertake.

If you sell photographs to print publications it's quite difficult to argue that you need more than 8 megapixels in a suitable camera with a good lens.. Why 8? Well, a 10 inches by 8inches photograph printed at 300dpi requires 7.2 megapixels. If you bear in mind that some magazines print at 240dpi and that most single page magazine images are less than 10X8, then 8 megapixels is clearly enough. (You'll have worked out that 5 megapixels is more than enough at 240dpi.) If, quite understandably, you want to allow for reasonable cropping then 12 megapixels is absolutely fine. If you aspire to cover the odd two page spread then 16 megapixels will do it comfortably. The number of megapixels that manufacturers offer us continues to increase, but as the above shows, unless you have a particular requirement to print large, then 8, 12 or 16 is plenty. Moreover, as print slowly gives way to screens in their many guises those numbers become significantly more generous and allow much heavier cropping.

If it isn't maximum detail in very large size prints that is used to justify high megapixel counts then it's the ability to crop and stillretain a large file. There are purists who scorn cropping, seeing virtue in composing using the camera's frame and sloppiness in composing after exposure by trimming bits off the four sides of the image. I have no qualms about cropping. I see no intrinsic worth in the offered aspect ratios of 3:2, 4:3, 1:1 or 16:9. I do have preferences, and some suit a particular subject - say portraiture - but generally speaking they all have their uses. But to find compositions in the world that perfectly fit these proportions is not always easy and can be an exercise in futility. So I think that cropping has its place.

Today's photograph is one that is double cropped. If I had a tilt-shift lens it would be only single cropped. The Broadway Theatre on Broadway in Peterborough is quite a large building, probably a former 1930s cinema, with a recent, rather good, big, glazed extension on the main elevation. Even standing on the opposite side of the road with my widest lens at 17mm I couldn't photograph it with the correct verticals that I wanted for an architectural interpretation of the building. So, I placed it in the frame with plenty of space around it and took my shot. Then I corrected the verticals and cropped the surround (smaller photo above). However, that composition wasn't as good - I think - as the further crop (main photo above) that gives greater emphasis to the people that I had deliberately included. My second crop changes the character of the photograph from architectural to a bit more of a "street" or "urban" shot, and makes an image that I like better. It's not the way a purist would shoot, but I see no problem with it. The original shot was 21 megapixels: the second crop took it to 15, and the final crop to 9 megapixels.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Banish weather forecasters

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In the UK, over the years, the profile of the TV weather forecaster has risen to the point where they are now seen as familiar figures with names and "personalities". Their exposure to the public now goes well beyond telling us about the weather and exchanging a few cheery banalities with the news presenters when their spot has ended. Some undertake public engagements, others feature in newspaper and magazine articles. Their dress, utterances, private lives and more are presented to the public by the media with the assumption that we will be interested. How has this change come about?

There seems to be, on the part of television in particular, a desire to make the weather forecast more exciting, more interesting, something to stay tuned for rather than a respite from regular programming when the audience might go off and make a cup of tea. The presenters themselves have been complicit in this. The problem with it is not just the flim-flam associated with the cult of personality: more importantly the weather forecasts are regularly skewed as a consequence. So, wet weather is presented as "bad", hot sunny weather as "good" or to use the favoured description of one male BBC presenter, "glorious". Of course, quite a few sectors of society (farmers, ice cream sales people, gardeners, etc) will not share this point of view but they seem of little consequence. Continuing "bad weather" is often reported with relish to the point where the forecaster appears to adopt the guise of a Jeremiah. Then there's the technology; the swooping camera, the animated symbols, and the specific forecast for whatever is the current newsworthy sports event. If the weather is stable (or in the presenter's eyes, "boring") the forecast is often livened up by a report about extreme weather somewhere else in the world. Why we need to know about Indonesian typhoons, mid-western tornadoes, droughts in Australia, or flooding in Bangladesh during the UK weather forecast just because the presenter needs to "sex it up" a bit, I really don't know. My answer is to banish the presenters, to have a simple voice-over connected to a visual presentation of the current weather and the weather that is anticipated for the next twenty four hours. That way we might get a little more sanity in the forecast and people might take notice of it rather than the wide-eyed, enthusiastic, over-gesticulating presenter.

Today we went to Peterborough to do a little shopping. The weather forecast was accurate I'm happy to report and we had the anticipated rain. I hope tomorrow the dry weather that was promised materialises because I have some hedges to trim. The subject of today's photograph is the Old Guildhall of 1671 in the Market Place at Peterborough. It is flanked by the church of St John the Baptist which was rebuilt in 1402-7 from the material of the old church and the nave of the now no longer extant, St Thomas. I used the medieval Outer Gate of the cathedral precinct as shelter from the rain as I took my photograph of the damp scene.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 84mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Peterscourt, Peterborough

click photo to enlarge

As I've said elsewhere in this blog much of my photography is incidental. By that I mean the subjects that I photograph are the ones that present themselves to me as I go about my immediate locality and the wider world. So, when I set off on a pleasurable walk somewhere I take my camera and usually return home with some shots. If I go to explore a village, town or city my camera is pointed at anything that looks to be a suitable subject. It is unusual for me not to carry a camera when I'm out and about, and consequently the majority of the images in this blog were taken almost as a by-product of another activity.

However, every now and then I set my mind to photographing a specific subject. Or I shoot a subject and make a mental note to do so again in better or different light, weather or season. Today's photograph is an example of the latter. I've photographed Peterscourt before but only ever produced one shot (in September of this year) that I thought worthy of posting. It's a large brick building in Peterborough dating from 1856-64, the work of the eminent Victorian architect, Sir George Gilbert Scott. Peterscourt isn't a spectacular building, nor is it sufficiently feted to appear in many books about architectural history. Rather, it's one of those quietly competent,visually interesting, well-made buildings that can be found in most cities and which in their own undemonstrative way, grace our streets and make our passage through them a pleasanter experience.

I've struggled in the past to get a shot that shows the whole of the building. Parked vehicles, roadworks, the position of the sun and much else has conspired to get in the way. But, on a recent visit to Peterborough to do some Christmas shopping I took this shot in more favourable circumstances. It shows the asymmetrical nature of Peterscourt, the prominence given to the chimneys and dormers, the unassuming and functionally positioned main entrance and the dark brick detailing. Anyone interested in English architectural history will have noted the awkwardness of the white painted Georgian doorway within the Gothic, pointed arch of the entrance. Scott did not design the building this way. The doorcase was brought to the city from the London Guildhall when it was damaged during the second world war. Its prominent placement here detracts from Scott's overall conception but at least conserves an interesting piece of history.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

UK cycling - a shadow of its potential

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I said the other day that I've always preferred my bicycle to my car. It's a more civilized form of transport that respects the environment and promotes the health of the rider. For short distance travel it cannot be surpassed, and even for slightly longer journeys it is surprisingly effective. But today too many people are blinded to the advantages of the bicycle by the omnipresent danger presented by the motor car.

 In fact, the bicycle is not an especially dangerous form of transport and over the whole population of riders is responsible for prolonging a vastly greater number of lives than it curtails. However, the average potential cyclists sees multiple high-speed tons of metal whizzing up and down the road and pictures what would happen to their body and the bike if one came into contact with them. In that imagining they turn their backs on cycling. And that prevents - at least in the UK - the establishment of a critical mass of cyclists that have to be catered for by better cycle paths, space on main roads, more realistic speed limits, parking etc. I took today's photograph in Peterborough, an English city that makes better provision for cycling than most. Yet, the cycle stands in the pedestrian areas were nowhere near full, and cyclists on roads, though present, were not visible in great numbers. If cycling cannot thrive in this flat city, I reflected, where will it?

I've posted a photograph of these cycle stands and their shadows before, and a different design in Blackpool. In fact bicycles have become a recurrent theme in my photography. For example - No cycling, a shop bike, incendiary bicycles, a drowned bicycle, a bicycle silhouette, a dismounted cyclist, a rubbish bike, and a bright yellow cyclist. What I've never photographed is a small group or a large number of cyclists. Perhaps one day!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 23mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Peterborough, Peterscourt and bricks

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Approach Peterborough from almost any direction and you can see its position from miles away. It isn't the cathedral that looms over the centre that catches your eye, nor is it some gleaming tower broadcasting the city to the wider world - the modern buildings in Peterborough aren't too tall. Rather, it's the cluster of chimneys of the brickworks, each with its plume of smoke trailing downwind that marks the settlement. There are fewer chimneys today than in the past but sufficient to make the city unique.

Brick-making in Peterborough is based on the local clay and became a major industry with the building of the railways. In the nineteenth century it was a fairly local undertaking, but from around 1890, with the exploiting of the Fletton clay that is suitable for making harder bricks, output soared. In the twentieth century the Peterborough area was the dominant brick-producing locality in Britain.

The other day, when I visited the city to do a little shopping and photography, I passed the building known as Peterscourt. This brick building with stone detailing is on City Road. It was built in 1856-64 by the prolific architect, Sir G. G. Scott, as a teacher training college for men. It subsequently became council offices, and is today the Eco Innovation Centre. It's a building I've wanted to photograph for a while with its long facade with ranks of tall chimneys. The clear, lowish September sun and sharp shadows of the day of my visit were perfect for architectural photography. Unfortunately, however, parked cars and sundry roadworks and street furniture prevented me getting the image I wanted. But, as I passed the end of the building, I noticed this wall with its doorway and window raked by the light. The sharpness conferred by the side illumination combined with the cleaned brickwork and painted stonework gave me something of a feeling for what Scott's building must have looked like when it was first built. I don't know if it uses Peterborough bricks, though it surely must. What I do know is it is a fine testament to the architect's handling of the material and a credit to the city that the building remains in use and in good repair.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

I should coco

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There may be good reasons for calling a Mexican restaurant Coco, but none immediately spring to mind. I came across this one as I was gathering images in Peterborough. It was at the tapered end of a block of buildings with a road at each side. As I looked up at the stainless steel logo and text reflecting the sky, and took in a second reflection on some glass below, the phrase, "I should coco" came to me. And, with that thought echoing around my head I took my photograph and departed.

"I should coco" is one of those sayings that I'd occasionally heard, but didn't really understand. I recalled it being the title of a pop album, but couldn't remember by which band. I had the impression that when used in a piece of prose it meant something like, "Yeah, right!" uttered in an ironic way. So, as you do, I Googled the phrase, and came up with the name of Supergrass as the band. Then I alighted on a fascinating website called World Wide Words, and found a whole entry on the phrase. It seems that it started life in London in the 1930s, gained in popularity in the 1950s, and was originally spelled, "I should cocoa!". Its meaning is something approximating to "Not on your life!" or "No way!", though the author of the piece, Michael Quinion, suggests that it was originally rhyming slang for, "I should say so!" He further speculates that its spelling changed due to the popularity of Coco the Clown. I was glad to have stumbled upon his website and immediately bookmarked it.

Anyway, back to the photograph. I'm not a fan of brown bricks, especially when they are pointed with matching mortar, so the overall presentation of this building didn't appeal to me. However, the gleaming, stainless steel signs and glass reflecting the sky and clouds did. They made, I think, a reasonably interesting shot. Whether they would work quite as well when the blue sky was obliterated by a dense blanket of stratus is quite another matter!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.4mm (35mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Illusions

click photo to enlarge
I like a good, confusing, photographic illusion. I don't mean the staged sort that shows a man holding the Great Pyramid above his head, or a small (but actually distant) person apparently diving into someone's mouth. No, I mean those "found" images that either show something that looks to be one thing, but is in fact another, or those that confuse us to the point where we can't understand what it is that we are looking at.

I've taken a few examples of this kind of photograph in the past including a fire escape staircase, a giant mirror ball, a theatre's sign, a reflection in a well, a piece of bark, and a bicycle stand. The other day, in Peterborough, I took another one. As I was passing a heavily glazed office block that I've photographed before, I was taken by the reflection of the sky and clouds in the tinted glass of the walls/windows. Approaching the building it appeared as if the clouds were floating from above my head into and out of the walls of glass. So I pointed my camera upwards and tried to capture this illusion. I had to wait a short time until the actual and the reflected clouds seemed to be making the transition, then I pressed my shutter. What I hadn't banked on was that the final image, at first glance, when it appeared on my computer screen, would look like the perfectly still water of an inviting swimming pool into which - if it really existed - I'd be tempted to jump.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Spring reflections

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Several years ago my wife wanted to sew some cross-stitch pictures. She'd tried her hand at a few subjects, but wanted to get her teeth into a bigger project. I'd designed the first of her pieces using graph paper, coloured crayons and a list of the available coloured threads, so I had the task of coming up with a subject. Eventually we settled on "The Four Seasons". It meant embarking on 4 separate pictures, and designing a themed subject for each. I eventually decided on a design that incorporated the name of the season written in the centre, with birds and plants that I found characteristic of that season and personally significant to me, disposed around the edge.

For spring I placed a tortoiseshell butterfly in the centre on blue forget-me-nots with daisies nearby. To the left I had a lapwing standing over its nest of four eggs, with yellow celandines adjacent, and to the right a wheatear stood on a lichen covered piece of limestone. Flying above were curlews, sand martins and swallows, a cuckoo, and a hovering, singing skylark. The top left and top right corners featured a willow and a mountain ash. As someone who grew up in the Yorkshire Dales these were all important markers of spring for me - with the exception of the willow which is more of a lowland plant that comes into leaf early, but one I had grown to admire.

If your abode is in the city your markers of spring are very different, as I came to realise when I lived in one. Women's dress (and the amount of visible flesh), the colour of the sky and the fluffiness of the clouds, the light green of the leaves, the harlequin colours from the flowerbeds, and the smell of mown lawns are much more important. If you have a park or river nearby then ducklings might feature too. The other week I was in Peterborough and photographed this quite interesting office building. It had an undulating glass curtain wall and pieces of concrete that delineated the rooms and floors. What attracted me to it, however, was its reflections - the soft green of the trees, the blue sky and the wispy white clouds that all said spring - spring in the city.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Using shadows in photography

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Shadows and reflections figure fairly heavily in my photography. I value them for their ability to contribute contrast, complexity, repetition and drama to things that are otherwise quite simple. They have the capacity to make the mundane look striking.

Yesterday, as I was shopping in Peterborough, I stood in a pedestrianised street in the shade of some plane trees. The spring sun was making dappled patterns on the block paving and people were sitting on the conveniently placed benches, enjoying the warmth and brightness. This particular British city is noted for the provisions it makes for cyclists, so bike parking facilities of one sort or another are very commonly found across its centre. At this particular location the landscape designers had settled on metal tubing bent into undulating lines as the parking solution and they caught my eye as a possible subject for a semi-abstract shot. But, many were in use with machines of every conceivable shape size and colour fixed to them. However, as I stood waiting a cyclist came along and removed his bike from one that was nearby, and pedalled away leaving it free to cast an inverted shadow of its shape across the ground.

"He who hesitates is lost", they say, so before anyone else could claim the bike stand for its legitimate purpose I stepped smartly across and took a couple of shots of it, before continuing with the shopping. This particular example, in portrait format, with a slight angle across the frame, is the best of the crop. Not a "Wow!" shot, but not without some pleasing qualities I think. However, without the shadow that doubles up the impact of the main subject, and contributes a little intrigue, it would amount to much less, and I wouldn't have thought of posting it.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19mm (38mm/44mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/160 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting the world

click photo to enlarge

I don't know the first architect who used mirror glass in a curtain wall, but I imagine he felt pretty pleased with himself! The idea of a wall that appears almost intangible, that reflects its surroundings in a grid, that conveys a sense of lightness or even weightlessness, is very appealing. It makes possible buildings that change their appearance according to the time of day, state of the weather and the particular season. Yes, when the first building that made this possible went up the architectural profession must have clapped its collective hands in delight. I've seen buildings with mirrored walls that look elegant and ethereal, that cause you to stop and stare.

However, there is also a sense in which mirror-wall buildings are a major cop out. They are "easy". They let the architect dispense with the usual problem of how to treat the exterior of a structure. There's no agonising over windows and walls because in this type of building they are the same. The problem of whether to use steel, concrete, brick, tiles, or any of the dozens of other finishes is redundant - the answer is always reflective glass. Yes, the design of the glazing bars is an issue, but a small one. Maybe that's why tinted glass became the vogue - architects wanted bring more personal expression to this genre, and the use of colour reintroduces aesthetic judgement. And, as the buildings glazed in these ways have proliferated architects have sought to introduce yet more variety to prevent the same, now boring, look being repeated everywhere. Today's photograph is of one such variation. It shows the wall above the main entrance of some offices in Peterborough. The reflective glass wall angles in and out, and in so doing presents a less usual reflection of its surroundings. Downward facing angles reflect the pavement, and upward facing angles reflect the trees and sky. I noticed this as I passed, and took this photograph of the effect. I'm the person reflected in the upper band of glass!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 21mm (42mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off