Carre's Hospital Almshouses, Sleaford

click photo to enlarge
The word hospital comes from the Latin for "stranger" and this gives a clue to the origins of the buildings we today call hospitals. In the medieval period many hospitals provided temporary accommodation for pilgrims, others operated a schools and many were dwellings for the poor of the locality - what came to be called almshouses in the UK. A similar, though older building - Browne's Hospital - can be seen in Stamford, Lincolnshire.

Today's photograph shows some almshouses in Sleaford Lincolnshire. They were built under the name Carre's Hospital by the Carre family on land that had previously had almshouses and subsequently the principal home of this well-to-do family. It was constructed by the architect, H. E. Kendall in the 1830s and 1840s, and comprises two adjoining ranges on two sides of a rectangle. The nine bay east range was built in 1830 and the seven bay south range (that includes a chapel with a large window and bellcote) in 1841-6. It originally provided homes for twelve "poor men" though in 1872 this was increased to eighteen. Each resident received the sum of 10 shillings per week, 1.5 tons of coal per year, and a blue cloak.

The building still provides homes for the elderly who continue to enjoy the shared garden. Today, however, it is somewhat spoiled by the busy traffic that uses the corner site near St Denys on which it is built. The almshouses are quite prominent in the town and their Gothic style echoes that of the nearby church. You can see both from the staircase windows of the NCCD building.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Carre's Hospital Almshouses, Sleaford
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV

Dark chancels

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I visit a lot of churches and over the years I've come to appreciate dark chancels. You might wonder why since they are clearly harder to photograph than one that is well lit. What I like is the contrast between the better lit nave, and the air of mystery that the subdued lighting gives to the focal point of the church. Fortunately, through most periods of architectural history the builders and furnishers of churches have agreed with me and have generally inserted fewer, smaller windows and have filled them with stained glass. The tendency to insert more memorials, elaborate seating, reredos, organs etc in this, usually, smaller space has deepened the darkness in many buildings. However, broadly speaking, during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the eighteenth century, and the twentieth century more light was allowed to enter the chancel.

In the fifteenth century the fashionable architecture of the time was responsible for light chancels, and frequently there was no dividing arch between and the nave. This example at Skirlaugh in East Yorkshire is a good illustration of what I mean. In the eighteenth century more inclusive worship lightened chancels, and the same trend influenced the twentieth century. But the Gothic Revival in the nineteenth century and the original Gothic of the twelfth to fourteenth centuries usually exhibits dark chancels, as does the earlier Romanesque period where large windows were technically unfeasible.

In my recent visit to St Denys in Sleaford, Lincolnshire, I photographed the chancel to capture the jewel-like appearance that low light usually imparts to the stained glass. Here, even the sunlight streaming in from the south facing windows could not overpower the deep reds and blues of the glass, though I did need some negative EV to better capture what the eye saw.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title:Chancel, St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:3200
Exposure Compensation: -1.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

21st century stained glass

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The year 2000 saw a proliferation of "millennium windows" in the UK's churches. The stained glass that they added to chancels and naves was, as might be expected, of varying quality. Moreover, there was no unanimity on whether the compositions should be figurative or abstract. I haven't done any research on this issue, but my feeling, having visited many churches in the past sixteen years, is that figurative work substantially outnumbers the windows that are abstract. I include amongst the figurative those windows that have elements of abstraction but also have recognisable objects - people etc - "semi-abstract" if you like.

Today's main photograph shows a detail from a fully abstract window of 2005 by Glenn Carter in the church of St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire. It is a tribute by Eddy Double to his late wife, Yvonne Double (1938-2003), an active member of the church.St Denys is a church where the majority of windows are filled with stained glass, including, unusually, those in the clerestory. However, quite a few have light coloured glass or areas where darker glass is concentrated, with lighter glass elsewhere. This is presumably deliberate to allow sufficient light into the building. It may be this precedent that prompted the composition of a band of stained glass across the three lights of this window in the south aisle of the nave, with clear glass elsewhere.

I like this stained glass - the colours, drawn lines, the cluster of shapes, and the overall composition. What I can't see - can anyone? - is the way the "design reflects the shape, structure and emotion" of Schumann's "Arabesque" Opus 18, a favourite piece of the deceased, and how this particular group of colours "symbolises various aspects of the Christian faith." Incidentally, the appreciation of this window, like many in churches, suffers from the background of trees and the impinging of the buttresses that flank the window on the exterior. My small photo emphasises this, and the eye is not quite as troubled by it when you actually view the window.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: 2005 Stained Glass, St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (160mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Heart of Darkness

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Joseph Conrad's novel, "Heart of Darkness", as a piece of art reminds me, in a couple of respects at least, of the eponymous album, "The Velvet Underground & Nico" - massively influential, long lasting, but read (or listened to) by fewer people than know of it.

The book centres around a river journey into darkest Africa to find an ivory trader, Kurtz, who is worshipped by the natives of the area. Conrad weaves a number of themes into the novel such as horror, racism, imperialism and colonialism. The most famous adaptation of the critically acclaimed novel is Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 film, "Apocalypse Now" set in the Vietnam War.

On a recent visit to the National Centre for Craft and Design in Sleaford we saw another art work that uses Conrad's novel as its inspiration. Clair Morgan's piece features thousands of flies fixed to hanging threads in columns and rows that collectively form a cuboid shape. It adopts Conrad's title and is not one of those works that the viewer finds agreeable or pleasurable. Rather, it fascinates in a disquieting sort of way, a characteristic it shares with Conrad's opus.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Heart of Dearkness by Claire Morgan
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Cogglesford Mill, Sleaford

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Watermills - the use of water to drive a wheel whose energy is then harnessed - are thought to predate windmills, devices that do the same but with wind power. The 1086AD Domesday survey of England recorded 5,624 watermills. Many of these sites still had working watermills in the eighteenth, nineteenth and even twentieth centuries. They were widely used to grind corn, but in later centuries water power was turned to a wider range of activities such as fulling, tanning and even forging iron. In some parts of the country they were very numerous. The River Wylye in Wiltshire had thirty mills on a ten mile stretch!

The current, preserved, Cogglesford Mill in Sleaford dates from around 1750 but a watermill is believed to have been on the site for a thousand years, grinding corn as the present mill still does today on its open days. The name derives from Coggle Ford nearby where a prehistoric trackway and subsequent Roman road crossed the River Slea.

My photograph shows the orange brickwork of the watermill glimpsed through the willows and other trees that surround the mill pond.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Cogglesford Mill, Sleaford, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15mm (30mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The strainer arch

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When I first visited Wells Cathedral in Somerset many, many years ago I knew there were two things that I particularly wanted to see. The first was the worn stairs to the Chapter House, the subject of a famous 1903 photograph entitled "Sea of Steps" by the British photographer, Frederick H. Evans (1853-1943). His platinotype image appealed to me because of its purely photographic qualities but also because the subject was an aspect of church architecture, an interest of mine then that continues to this day.

The other thing I searched out that day was the famous strainer arches under the crossing tower. These were inserted as bracing in the arches to the nave and transepts (the choir arch is braced by a screen) by William Joy in 1338. The existing, orthodox arches had begun to show signs of stress after the tower had been heightened, and the "St Andrew's cross" strainer arches were the solution Joy came up with the alleviate the problem. They worked. However, opinion on the aesthetic merits of Joy's arches was divided and remains so. Some see them as an awkward intrusion while others think them an elegant answer that enlivens the interior. I like them and think they are an interesting and beautiful addition to the cathedral.

When I moved to Lincolnshire I came upon a smaller scale copy of the Wells arches in the church of St Denys in Sleaford. Here a strainer arch clearly derived from the Somerset example was inserted at the west end of the north aisle in 1853. Apparently it solves a problem with the original arch that was exhibiting movement due to the weight of the west tower. Though not on the scale of the Wells examples, and introducing a note of asymmetry to the west end of the church, Sleaford's arch is not without its utilitarian beauty.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Strainer Arch, St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Nativity and photographing stained glass

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When I first started photographing stained glass a tripod was a necessity. Today, thanks to image stabilisation and improved high ISO capabilities, that's not the case. As a subject stained glass presents quite a few challenges, particularly when it is in a church. Firstly there is the fact that it is usually above head height. This necessitates either raising the camera or correcting converging verticals. Then there's the very wide range of tones in stained glass, usually ranging from white through to black. How to expose them all correctly is the problem: usually some underexposure is necessary followed by selective post processing.

Stained glass is best photographed on bright, overcast days because sunlight on the window usually presents insuperable difficulties if you are seeking true colours. Windows near transepts and porches are a problem because the shadow of the building projection often makes one side of the window much darker than the other. I've never succeeded in satisfactorily overcoming the exposure challenge that this situation presents. The demands of the clergy and congregation often present problems. For example, the east window (often the most elaborate stained glass in the church) often has a sanctuary lamp hanging in front of it, resulting in a silhouette of the metal holder and chain. Other window sills are frequently used for vases of flowers and other objects designed to beautify the building.

However, these difficulties notwithstanding, I enjoy photographing stained glass, as this blog will testify. At the end of each year I search my collection for a nativity scene to use as the illustration on our Christmas card that we make. Above is this year's example, an example of Victorian glass from the parish church of St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 120mm (240mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Walkie Not Talkie

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I've never been a fan of the telephone. There's something about talking to a disembodied voice that doesn't appeal to me. Moreover, I spent too much time speaking to people on the phone during my working life. That's not to say I don't appreciate their utility, and of course, I do use phones. With that in mind you might think that the rise of the smartphone would be something I'd welcome because it offers communication without the necessity for speaking. In fact, I wonder if these days such devices aren't more used for texting (SMS), email, social media communication etc, than simply speaking to people. But the fact is, though I recognise their multiple uses, and though I use my wife's smartphone, I haven't succumbed to one myself because I have enough computers of one kind or another and the idea of having one to use on a regular basis when I'm out and about is simply too much to contemplate.

I sometimes wonder what smartphone users would do if they had their device surgically removed. What would they do with their hands, their eyes, their ears and their brains? Would they have to look about them, make their own entertainment, fret because they don't know what their friends and acquaintances are doing, organise their time and social interactions better because there was no phone to make last-minute adjustments? I do wonder whether smartphones will turn us into lobster people who carry massive smartphones as evolution causes us to develop massively over-sized thumbs from countless keypresses.

I recognise that my relative antipathy to smartphones isn't widely held. On reflection it probably comes from the deep enjoyment I get from looking at our world, finding out about it and reflecting on what I see. A smartphone would get in the way of that - and it would encourage me to use an inferior camera!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 63mm (126mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0
Image Stabilisation: On

Eye-scorching colour

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Living in the countryside I am surrounded by natural, largely muted colour - the greens and browns of grass and leaves, the dark earth, the bricks, tiles and stone of village and farm buildings. It's true that points of strong colour intrude in the form of flowers, large agricultural vehicles, and most of all the blue of the sky. But it's also true to say that I don't regularly experience the layers of in-your-face, man-made colours so often found in the city. And there are times when I crave them.

So, I was pleased to visit an exhibition of creative textiles by Michael Brennand-Woods at the National Centre for Craft and Design at Sleaford, Lincolnshire, and discover that many of the pieces on display offered eye-scorching colour. As I've mentioned before, it's not unusual for me to come away from NCCD exhibitions feeling disappointed. But, as I've also noted there are occasions when I enjoy an encounter with a kind of craft (or art) that I don't usually seek out, and I depart from the show visually and creatively stimulated. Such was my experience on a recent visit where I saw textiles on the theme of "Seeds of Memory". I can't say that I engaged with the works on the terms that they were offered to me, and the impenetrable, jargon-ridden, art-speak made me despair, as it always does. But I got a lot from the experience on my own terms and that was enough for me. Other visitors who, like us, seem to have popped in for a break from shopping, appeared to appreciate the exhibition too.

During my visit I reflected on whether or not these pieces would work outside the gallery, in a home or an office for example, and decided they would. I often think otherwise about NCCD exhibits because many benefit from the light, shadows and space in which they are displayed, qualities that don't easily transfer to smaller settings.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm (90mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:4000
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

I really don't photograph birds...

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...except when I do! Today's photograph refers back to a post I made in 2008 which itself referred to a couple of posts entitled "I don't photograph birds" and "I DO photograph birds"(my best bird photograph). The latter pair are on a short-lived blog, PhotoQuoto, that I published during a break from PhotoReflect.

The fact is I'm not a bird photographer even though I have an interest in birds. But, as I explain in the posts referred to above, if a bird presents itself to me, in a way I can't ignore, or in a manner I find interesting, then I'll photograph it. This happened on a walk near Sleaford a few days ago. The semi-albino blackbird has more albinism than I've ever personally seen in this species, and that made it sufficiently noteworthy for me to take the shot. The heron is probably the bird I've photographed more than any other. Its large size, I suppose, compensates for my lack of long lenses. It also has the happy knack of presenting itself in photographically appealing ways. Here the bird was on the opposite bank of the river in a patch of sunlight, looking like it was the star in the spotlight. They're not great photographs. In fact, every other photograph of a heron I've taken is better than this one. But, they are interesting to me, and are further evidence that my photographic ouvre extends to more than inanimate objects!

photographs and text © Tony Boughen



Photo 1
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 140mm (210mm - 35mm equiv.) - cropped
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The camera and the eye

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Something that I like about photography is that the camera often sees what the eye doesn't, and sometimes it sees what the eye can't. Take this photograph. Had I been walking by the River Slea in Sleaford without my camera, and with my mind on anything but photography, I wouldn't have noticed this semi-abstract composition. I wouldn't have seen the line of three posts in the water supporting the boarding that stabilises the river bank. Nor would I have seen the way they make a lower left to upper right diagonal across which the branches of a nearby tree makes wavy diagonals at right angles to them. More than that, without a camera I wouldn't have seen the extent to which the shifting surface of the water was making a scribble of lines out of those branches. I know the latter to be the case because my eye noticed a lot less movement than was recorded by the camera, and before I pressed the shutter I wondered if the composition would have enough interest.

It is said that the camera never lies, but, as I've said elsewhere in this blog, it's truer to say that the camera always lies, in one way or another. Sometimes the lies matter little, as when the perspective is altered by the focal length or the dynamic range is less than our eye can see. At other times it matters more, for example when colours are noticeably shifted, or what appears sharp to the eye is blurred, or a scene that looks deserted is only empty of people because you waited for a rare moment when no one was in the field of view. In fact, the camera induced effects that impinge on some photographs can make a shot what it is and sometimes it's worth deliberately trying to generate them: or at least be welcoming of them when they unexpectedly appear. Here are a few examples -silhouettes of ducks under an overhanging tree, the sun deliberately included in the frame, a sepia effect resulting from contre jour lighting and laser pen light and distorted colour (that radiator is white!) from a long exposure.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 27.9mm (75mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A touch of strong colour

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Ever since mankind has created pictures colour has been a key element of the armoury of the artist. Colour is powerful, seductive, noticeable and descriptive. But, as photographers who favour black and white often claim, it can overwhelm an image, introduce a note or mood the artist doesn't require, or detract from the essence of what is offered. Consequently, artists have often sought to use colour sparingly, recognising as cooks do with their herbs and spices, that a little can go a long way. Since the rise of colour photography that has been one of the approaches that photographers have adopted too.

Several years ago, when I was more involved than I am today with the wider photographic community, I acquired a reputation for photographs that included a strong but small note of vivid colour (often red) in an otherwise relatively muted colour palette. In fact, my second post on PhotoReflect, way back on 24th December 2005, "The Power of Colour" both exemplifies and discusses that approach to composition. I continue to periodically produce photographs with that characteristic, such as this photograph of a ladybird or this one of a snagged red net bag by the sea.

One recent morning, on a shopping trip to Sleaford, Lincolnshire, I had the opportunity to add another such image to my collection. By a small pond, at the end of a wooden walkway that stretched from the path to a small fishing jetty, was a bright orange life belt. The overnight frost had laid a veneer of white over timber and vegetation, reducing the impact of these colours and emphasising the vivid orange circle. Holding my camera above my head to make more of the timber path and rails as a line into the composition I took the photograph that I offer today.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/40 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Early medieval gravestones

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The gravestones, tomb slabs and funerary monuments of English churches range in date from the twelfth century to the present day. Each one seeks to remember or exalt the deceased. Few of the older ones are in the position where they were first placed and many of these have been damaged by incident, accident or design. Sometimes they have been crudely cut so that a later architectural embellishment could be effected. Often Protestant zealots of the Reformation or later have taken their hammers to them, knocking off noses, limbs and any other easily removed projection as they sought to demonstrate their hatred of "idolatry". However, despite the vicissitudes of time, many have survived, largely intact, bequeathing to later generations information about the sculptural abilities and stylistic preferences of earlier times.

The oldest such monuments were often lids for stone coffins, decorated by a foliate cross or lines of stylised leaves. These usually date from the 1100s. Also found at this time, and a little later, are stone coffin lids with circles, quatrefoils or almond-shaped holes within which are carvings of parts of the  body that is being commemorated. Today's photographs show an example of just such a gravestone that can be seen in the church of St Denys at Sleaford, Lincolnshire. The viewer is invited to look, asit were, through "holes" in the surface of the lid, at the face, hands held in prayer and feet of a woman. The inscription around the edge tells us who she is. It says, "Ye who here pass by, for the soul of Yvette pray, who was the honoured wife of William of Rauceby on whose soul may god have mercy". These holes are incorporated in a leafy cross that decorates the surface of the coffin-shaped stone. It is likely to date from the 1100s. Despite being broken in two and now being fixed to the wall rather than laying flat on or under the ground, the stonework is still clear and the writing remains legible, a testament to the durable qualities that the sculptor conferred on the piece and to the care with which the church has been maintained for the past thousand or so years.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: iAuto+
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Glass sculpture

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Glass has many qualities that fascinate me: its ability to reflect, to distort, to transmit light through its structure, its hardness and smoothness, even its fragility. In recent years I've realised that glass has always intrigued me. Even back in my childhood I loved to look into mirrors, glass marbles, prisms, cheap jewellery or cut glass decanters to see how they distorted reality. But it's only in the past fifteen or so years, as I've expanded the range of my photography, that I've realised the depth of my interest. Now I rarely miss an opportunity to snap a good reflection, a distortion or any other kind of interesting manifestation in glass.

When I go to the National Centre for Craft and Design in Sleaford I find that its always the glass exhibits for sale in their shop that I look at first. I can't say I've bought a lot of "art" glass, but we did buy a couple of rather fine bowls a few years ago, one of which has made an appearance on the blog. Consequently, when we recently made one of our regular trips to Sleaford to take in the current exhibition I was delighted to find that it featured the work of someone who worked in glass. Luke Jerram had pieces from three of his major series on display: Radiometer Chandeliers, Glass Microbiology and Rotated Data Sculpture. It was very refreshing to find that these titles are very clear descriptions of the work rather than the usual opaque artspeak. Of the three types of glass work it was the forms drawn from the world of viruses, bacteria and microbiology that I enjoyed most. To see structures inspired by the microscopic forms that can only be seen under powerful magnification, that are rendered large, in beautifully formed glass and lit by powerful lamps was marvellous. So much so that I took a couple of shots with my pocket camera. Today's photograph is a detail of one of the larger pieces.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: iAuto
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Ceramic sculpture

click photos to enlarge
I find my visits to the National Centre for Craft and Design (NCCD) at Sleaford, Lincolnshire, hit and miss affairs. Sometimes I am delighted, excited, provoked, intrigued and surprised. On other occasions I am bored, bewildered, depressed, disheartened, and affronted. My recent visit to see the main gallery exhibition of Gordon Baldwin's ceramic sculptures definitely fell into the second category. After viewing the pieces, looking at the curatorial commentary, listening to the artist on a video, and reading quotations by him I left, regretting that I had devoted time to the experience. On this occasion I won't elaborate on my reasons for feeling that way because I can think of little to say that is positive, a situation that I can recall occurring only once before when I briefly viewed an exhibition of Vivienne Westwood shoes.

One of the virtues of the NCCD is that there are two further exhibition spaces: a smaller top-floor room (The Roof Gallery) and the stairwell (Window Space), so if you are disappointed by one exhibition you can hope that you'll discover something to enjoy elsewhere. Unfortunately I found the offering at the top of the building - "Class of 2012" -  only minimally diverting. However, the exhibits on the landing, window ledges and walls of the stairwell were much more interesting. They were the work of an Italian ceramic sculptor, Pina Lavelli. She had created small, white shapes with surfaces that resembled leaf cell structures or some other plant texture. These fractal-like patterns didn't cover all the shapes so they contrasted with the remaining smooth roundedness. Other white, pebble-like shapes were gathered in black openwork wire spheres. The pieces stood on surfaces in groups as sculpture or were fixed to flat white frames to form relief pictures. Plants had inspired the artist, and one could see that connection, but the beautiful, unsullied whiteness of many of the pieces most closely resembled, to my mind, water-worn pebbles, pumice stone, perhaps sea-urchin shells or, to return to plants, newly-appeared toadstools and mushrooms.

I took a few quick snaps of the exhibits and show here a closeup, two of the spheres and a photograph of a relief. The latter I shot at an angle, showing only part of the artwork and I included a segment of a nearby wall light. I left the NCCD as I usually do, glad that I'd gone, and ready for the next exhibitions be they good, bad or indifferent.

photographs © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.1mm (57mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: 2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

New uses for old warehouses

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The two buildings in today's photograph can be found near the railway station in Sleaford, Lincolnshire. They are, from left to right, a furniture store and a block of flats. However, the former was the old Clover Warehouse while the latter was (and still is) known as Sharpes Warehouse.

Sharpes International Seeds are a company specialising in "the development and supply of cereals, peas, beans, oil seeds (particularly linseed), grasses and root and forage crops." It is a company that can can trace its history back to 1560. Presumably the large Victorian warehouse that now houses 31 flats was part of that business, as was the old Clover Warehouse. I imagine that the location next to the railway was to aid distribution.

Both buildings appear to be examples of sensitive conversion to new uses. The basic shape of each building has been maintained, with even the covered loading bays still evident. I bent down low with my wide zoom lens at 17mm for my photograph and used the edge of the pavement and the double yellow "no parking" stripes as leading lines to take the viewer's eye from the foreground to the buildings. Black and white seemed the best option for this fairly graphic composition.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A

Sleaford Picturedrome

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The first cinemas in Britain were built in the years before the First World War. They were generally small with fanciful facade details in a debased Art Nouveau or Classical style applied in relatively cheap materials.  The real heyday of cinema construction began in the 1920s, speeded up after the introduction of the "talkies" in 1927, and continued through the 1930s. A theatre for moving film projection was a new building type. However, designers initially based the layout on a traditional theatre, though the area of the stage was reduced and the associated machinery and layers of curtains were clearly not required. The later cinemas were essentially functional buildings overlaid with a decorative style on the facade and in the public rooms and auditorium. These styles were plundered from many lands and periods - Moorish, Classical and Art Deco were popular but in the 1930s a streamlined Moderne took hold featuring cream tiles, fins, windows wrapped around corners and sometimes columns, lotus flowers and tapering pilasters sourced from Egyptian temples.

Today's photograph shows a former cinema - The Picturedrome - at Sleaford in Lincolnshire. Like many such buildings it no longer fulfils its original purpose and is now closed, but it still shows evidence of its recent use as a nightclub. It was built in 1920 in a sort of stripped Classical style. The main entrance is flanked by columns, with a large Diocletian window with a rusticated surround above. The cornice has regularly spaced paterae-like circles and in the centre of the attic storey is a circular window with what look like husk garlands and some Greek key pattern. The inside had a rectangular proscenium arch, a barrel vaulted ceiling and painted panels decorating the walls. It could seat 900 people and it was apparently so successful that a balcony extension was installed to seat a further 80. Who knows what its future holds?

You may be wondering about the colours of this particular photograph. I turned the original colour shot into black and white and then gave it a digital blue and sepia "split toning" effect. In the days of film, when I processed and printed my own black and white photographs, I always wanted to try split toning but the apparent complexity of it put me off. Essentially it involves using two different coloured toners which affect the shadows and light areas differently. Digital split toning mimics this. I've applied the effect once before, and I think it is a very good fit for the subject - the new seafront at Cleveleys, Lancashire. I thought this cinema might also benefit from the treatment.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Super-size curve stitching

click photo to enlarge

Last year, in a post showing a photograph of church organ pipes, I briefly touched on the subject of curve stitching (often called string or pin and thread art) - that is to say, the assembly of straight lines of thread in such a way that they produce curves. It's an activity that I associate with my own years as a primary school pupil. However, it must still be quite popular because I see from my hit counter that particular blog page being regularly landed on by people searching using the phrase "curve stitching". The activity is, to my mind, a craft. However, the other day at the National Centre for Craft and Design at Sleaford, Lincolnshire, I came upon an example on a giant scale that bridged the gap between craft and art.

The main exhibition gallery was filled with a piece by Gabriel Dawe called Plexus No. 10. Accompanying text by the artist described his arrangement of taut, visible spectrum coloured threads arranged in lines and curve-stitching- style arcs that the viewer can walk between as "materialising the structure of light." To wander into the piece was a fascinating journey because the coloursof the threads changed depending on your position, as did their shape, from some angles resembling the slats of venetian blinds. An interesting phenomenon was the way that the viewer sometimes became disorientated, losing a sense of how near the threads were. We often descend on the N.C.C.D. at a time when we are the only visitors, or when there are just one or two others. On this occasion there were quite a few people and it was interesting to hear and see their reaction. There were lots of smiles, gasps and much careful peering to see how the structures were constructed and why they behaved as they did. In this piece Gabriel Dawe has clearly pulled of that most difficult of tricks by creating a work that is both good, popular and fun. The exhibition opened on 22 October and continues until 15 January 2012. I thoroughly recommend it.

With permission I took several photographs, none of which effectively describe the sight, experience and fun of moving around the installation - fitting three dimensions into two often has that result. However, they do give an indication of what I've been talking about and were interesting to shoot. Here are my best three.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 102mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

hub becomes nccd

click photo to enlarge

It seems that the hub (lower case) has become nccd (also lower case). An improvement, certainly, but wouldn't it have been so much better to have gone the whole hog and made it N.C.C.D.?

Ever since I moved to Lincolnshire I've visited the National Centre for Craft & Design in Sleaford. I've been delighted, bemused, exasperated and despairing as I've viewed their regular exhibitions. And that's exactly how it should be. There's absolutely no reason why I should like everything that is shown. I much prefer to see a wide range of exhibitions that bring me experiences that are new, different and challenging, and that necessarily means, as far as I personally am concerned, there'll be hits and misses. The next blog post will feature the current main exhibition which I think is a definite hit. However, for today let's stick with the "re-branding" exercise.

It makes much more sense to use the initials of the centre's official name rather than the generic title of "the hub". There are too many other places with that name which leads to confusion, and anyway it's become a touch passe. But why keep the lower case? Surely that's a fashion that's had its day too. Moreover, lower case becomes either confusing ot unreadable when written in a block of text. I would rather that capitalized initials had featured in the new advertising and that subsequent updates to the style and signage simply modified them. I do, however, quite like the overlapping angular shapes that accompany the revised name, and the painting of them on one side of the building works well too. So well in fact that I had to photograph them with the window reflecting a nearby tree.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Sculpture, galleries and photography

click photos to enlarge

It's fairly common for photographers to be told that they can't use their cameras in certain locations. Regular visitors to this blog will remember my experience photographing in the private "estate" of More London on the South Bank. Shopping malls ban photography. So too do the majority of galleries and museums, even where they are essentially tax payer funded institutions. So, it's a real pleasure to come across somewhere that does allow photography inside their premises, as I did at The National Centre for Craft and Design (known as "the hub" - I don't like the lower-case) in Sleaford, Lincolnshire*. This venue regularly stages exhibitions, and we frequently go along to see them. I've said elsewhere that these are not always to my taste. However, that doesn't matter because one of the points of visiting such a place is to expose yourself to new ideas. Moreover, I find that I do enjoy the exhibitions sufficiently often that I keep returning.

The two exhibitions I saw on my most recent trip to Sleaford couldn't have been more different. Jason Lim's "New work in ceramics" didn't appeal to me very much at all. The shapes and textures of his clay work offered me neither beauty nor interest. I did like some of the colours and patterns of his glaze, but that was about it. I was, however, most impressed by Claire Morgan's sculptures. These featured stuffed (as in taxidermy) animals - all road-kill I believe - placed in volumes constructed of monofilament on which were fixed various plastics and even dandelion seeds. The exhibition was called, "About Time", which sums up the artist's motivation in creating these pieces. However, had I known nothing of this - and a video gave further insight into her ideas and techniques - I should still have liked the pieces featuring the crow and the fox.

The fox was standing in a grid of vertical lines on which were fixed torn shreds of back plastic arranged in such a way that the animal appeared to be in an inclined cube. The strongly directional lighting of the gallery emphasised texture, light and dark and the sham solidity of the sculpture. The crow was up-ended on the ground as though it had just crash-landed and was surrounded by two part-spheres made of dandelion seeds fixed to a grid of wires. A third piece with the rabbits - both "alive" and dead - had the word "Shhh..." backwards, made of pieces of pink plastic floating above. Descriptions such as mine don't do justice to the pieces, nor do my two-dimensional photographs: they have to be seen and walked around to be properly appreciated. If you can, go and see them.

* I asked at the "The Hub" if I could take photographs in the gallery and was told I could. I believe, from previous conversations on the subject, that photography is allowed with some exhibitions and not others - a policy that is much better than that of most museums and galleries.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 8.8mm (41mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.5
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO:400
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On