Hinges and old doors

click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph shows a detail of the priest's door on the exterior of the chancel of the church of St Andrew at Heckington, Lincolnshire.

The solid oak and the rusted, ornate metal work appear to date from a Victorian restoration, perhaps that done by Charles Kirk in 1867. Readers of this blog will know that in Lincolnshire (and many other parts of Britain) church doors are often considerably older - examples from the fifteenth century are relatively common and those from three or four centuries earlier are still to be found.

Many people imagine that the large, intricate scroll-work of the hinges of such doors are purely ornamental. But, as with the tracery, buttresses moulding, pinnacles etc of Gothic churches the seemingly decorative is fundamentally structural. In the case of the doors there are stiles and rails that fix the pieces of wood together. However, the scrollwork of the hinges provides additional fixing and hence strength to the structure while at the same time beautifying the door. If I were to hazard a guess I'd say that this metalwork has rarely, if ever, been painted. It looks none the worse for it!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Beauty and Heckington church

click photo to enlarge
The church of St Andrew at Heckington is essentially a creation of the fourteenth century. It exemplifies a style that English architectural historians call Decorated. Anyone choosing Lincolnshire's best dozen churches would be likely to include Heckington. It is a large, town-size church - 164 feet long and 185 feet tall to the top of its spire - constructed of Ancaster stone located in a big village.

What makes Heckington church a beautiful and outstanding example of medieval church architecture? The exterior of the building is well-proportioned, though it could be argued that the spire is too short for its tower (or the tower too tall for its spire). However, it is the quantity and quality of the external decoration that sets it apart. Fine pinnacles and niched buttresses abound as do statues (38). Finials, crockets and gargoyles are abundant and elaborate. So too is the tracery of the windows with its trefoils, quatrefoils, mouchettes, daggers, ogees: those of the south transept (above) and east chancel window are classic, much quoted examples of the period. After an exterior of such quality the interior comes as something of a disappointment. However, it compensates by having a small collection of features - the font, a tomb recess, Easter sepulchre, piscina and sedilia, that transcend the ordinary and in some cases are of national significance.

Being a big church in a small churchyard, surrounded by quite close housing, Heckington is not easy to photograph in its entirety. The churchyard planting, though very good, adds to the difficulty. Consequently I was reduced to photographing a part rather than the whole, the tower, south porch and south transept, glimpsed between a couple of conifers.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (27mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A few of my best photographs

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For a number of years I've had a link in the sidebar of the blog to a "Best of PhotoReflect". This showed some of what I consider to be my better efforts with a camera. However, the external service I used for that purpose kept introducing changes and "improvements" in a way that has caused me to ditch them.

So, to give anyone who wants a flavour of what the blog is about, at least as far as the photographs go, I've put together a page of ten colour shots and a page of ten black and whites. These can be reached through the side bar links as usual. I say they are my ten best in each category, but that isn't strictly true. Why? Because those lists are going to be different each time I compile them. I'd like to think any future changes will be due to me becoming a better photographer and producing images that I rate more highly than earlier ones. But that isn't going to be the case, or it will apply only in the odd instance. The fact is, once I get past the first couple of shots in each category the rest that I add depend pretty much on how I feel at the time.

I will change these lists periodically, though not too often. Incidentally the borders of the photographs differ. That's because I'm an inveterate fiddler and change my presentation now and again. I haven't linked any of the photographs to their blog posts. I may do that at some point in the future.

Today's photograph isn't one that I count among my very best. In fact its a reject, one I prepared for posting then cast aside after I changed my mind. It shows a bier and a tomb in the church of St Andrew at Rippingale, Lincolnshire. The wheeled bier, probably Victorian, is still used to transport the coffin into the church and, after the service, to the grave in the churchyard. It stands in front of a wall tomb-chest that has a lady on top. She is surmounted by an ogee canopy with damaged cusps, fleurons and plentiful ballflower ornament. All the indications - dress, ornament etc - are that it dates from the the period 1300 to 1350.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 32mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Bonby church - a different view

click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph was taken on the same day as my other black and white shot of Bonby church that I posted recently. It shows the the north side of the building and illustrates something I've discussed elsewhere in this blog, namely how medieval churches were enlarged by adding aisles.

The outline of arcade arches on the nave wall above shows that there was once an aisle attached to the building. It was probably required to accommodate a growing congregation. It may have been added to the original, small aisleless church by knocking out arch-shaped openings in the nave wall and replacing the remaining supporting walling with columns. Of course, when the aisle was added the windows had to be re-positioned (or new ones made) for the new aisle wall that was now farther from the middle of the nave. Sometimes the wall that was turned into an arcade was increased in height and windows were cut through the new, higher section, to shine light into the centre of the church. This solution involved raising the height of the nave roof. I don't know precisely why and how Bonby's aisle was fitted to the original church but it's very clear that at a later date it either became an expensive luxury that a decline in the size of the congregation rendered superfluous; or it fell down; or it became unsafe and was pulled down. Whatever the reason, every expense was spared in restoring the original nave wall. The arches and columns were left in place and simply filled with masonry. I wouldn't be surprised if the aisle windows were re-used too. The architectural effect is inelegant but interesting.

In fact, that description suits the whole of this side of the building. Just look at the chimney and the white lean-to extension - it looks like part of a cottage has been stuck on the side of the church! But, as I said on my earlier post about the church, these rustic qualities are ones that I find quite attractive. On my previous visits to this church I'd never been able to get inside; it was always locked. On our recent visit the door was open and we had a look round. Truth be told it's not a very attractive interior; the remains of the arcade is the most interesting feature. The visitors' book dates back to the 1960s, and as my wife glanced through it she noted that entries in that decade and subsequently were not very numerous: presumably an indication that the building was rarely open. Perhaps we were fortunate to find it unlocked, or maybe it was because we visited on a Sunday.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 32mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.00 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Bonby church 27 years later

click photo to enlarge
Anyone with an interest in English church architecture will be familiar with the main gazetteers and guides that document these buildings. All will know of the county volumes of the "Buildings of England" series by Nikolaus Pevsner (and others). Many will be familiar with John Betjeman's original or updated "Guide to English Parish Churches". And most will have an acquaintance with Simon Jenkins' "England's Thousand Best Churches". I have all these books and I list them here in order of preference, best first.

They all have their own take on listing and describing churches. Pevsner is completist and academic, Betjeman is brief, quirky and selective and Jenkins is more opinionated, historical, florid and his book has a more contentious title. Whose thousand best? Not mine, though he has many I would include. So how do I differ from Jenkins? Well, I have a liking for churches that have been knocked about a bit, that show their age, the ravages of time and the mark of successive builders. I can appreciate as much as the next man the big, richly ornamented, Grade 1 Listed, beautifully kept show-piece church. But, I can also appreciate the tumble-down, humble structure that needs a bit of maintenance, that can be found, with difficulty, surrounded by trees, at the end of a country lane: the sort of building that seems to grow out of the ground rather than look like it's been dropped in, scrubbed and polished, from on high.

Today's photograph shows a church that I liked the first time I saw it some time in the 1970s. It's a building that wouldn't even get on the long-list for Jenkins' best. St Andrew in the village of Bonby, Lincolnshire, is a mixture of work from the 1100s, 1200s and 1800s. The original stone has been replaced and reinforced by brick, and much of it shows its age. It must have always been a work in progress as people enlarged the church, made it smaller, renewed bits that fell down, patched walls, moved windows and blocked up doorways. After taking today's main photograph I searched out a shot of the church taken from a similar viewpoint that I remembered scanning from a slide last year. The original was taken in 1986 using an Olympus OM1n and a 135mm lens. I wanted to see if there had been any changes during the intervening 27 years. One jumped out at me immediately. The bottom two thirds of the east wall that was looking rough in 1986 is now rendered and painted white. But apart from that it was much the same low, squat, rustic building. Even the same dark red paint continues to be used on the drainpipes, gutters and door. I did notice one further difference: the churchyard grass is being kept a bit shorter!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Billingborough church at night

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Driving in the dark over the low hills between Folkingham and Billingborough the other evening, the church tower of St Andrew came into view. It caught my eye as its illumination made it glow like a golden lighthouse, a beacon for travellers heading down onto the Fens. As we drew into the village the tall, fourteenth century tower and spire seemed to be brighter still against the mottled sky, and appeared to be in competition with the moon to see which could best catch the eye of passers-by. It was a contest that, on this particular night, the church was winning. However, the effect of the full moon on the broken cloud was so pleasing we parked up and had a brisk walk to find some photographs that included these two sources of light. It was also, I thought, a good opportunity to try my new compact camera's iAuto+ mode, a setting whereby it takes several shots very rapidly and then merges them to make a single image with reduced noise and motion blur.

Of the cluster of photographs I took the main one is the image I like best. It was taken through the gateway of Billingborough Hall, a large house built in 1620 and modified in the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centuries. This building is now a care home for the elderly. For my purposes it provided not only more lights in the form of lit windows to punctuate the darkness, but roof and chimney silhouettes and foreground illumination spilling onto the drive from a nearby streetlight. The tower of St Andrew glows in the photograph in just the ethereal way it did at the time, a dominating presence now at night just as it must always have been in the village during the day.

There is a pond near the west end of the church so we walked round to see if there was a photograph to be had that included a reflection of the church in the water. I came away with the smaller photograph and a few failed shots that included sleeping ducks on the pond's island. Billingborough church is an imposing building that is a fine exclamation mark in its village setting. It's a subject I've photographed several times - see, for example, this shot with the nearby Church Farm. I've photographed the pond before too.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: iAuto+
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/8
ISO: 2000
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Jackdaws and church towers

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My upbringing in the Yorkshire Dales market town of Settle familiarised me with the jackdaw (Corvus monedula). The area is well-known for its rugged hills, sheep farming, limestone cliffs and stone-built houses. All of these combine to provide a fine habitat for this small crow. What one notices from everyday contact with the bird is not only its black plumage, its grey nape and its bright eye that give it a look of intelligence that it doesn't quite deserve, but also its characteristic call. This is usually described in writing as a sharp "chak" or a more drawn out "chaka-chaka-chak",  a sound that accounts for the first part of the bird's name. In the Dales it builds its nest in holes and cavities on cliffs, in trees and in buildings.

When I lived in the city of Kingston upon Hull the jackdaw wasn't particularly noticeable though could be found. It was much more common in the surrounding countryside. During my time on Lancashire's Fylde Coast it became very familiar once more, and I often heard its distinctive cry as groups flew over my house. In the Lincolnshire Fens the bird is very common, associating with rooks to feed on stubble, around  farms and in villages. It finds nest sites in trees, farm buildings and around house roofs. However, the plentiful medieval churches, especially the space behind the louvred openings of the bell towers, provide favoured sites for nests. The jackdaw has to compete with pigeons and doves (and the occasional peregrine falcon) for the best locations, but anyone who stands in a churchyard is almost bound to see jackdaws circling the church tower, entering through holes and making their cry echo from the old stonework.

Today's photograph shows the medieval church of St Andrew at Folkingham in Lincolnshire. Looking at the specks in the sky to the right of the tower top the critical observer might be forgiven for wondering whether my sensor needs cleaning or if I've got dust on the back of my lens. However, anyone who has read this far will realise that it is a circling crowd of jackdaws. My presence below disturbed them, but they soon settled and peered down at me as I picked my way through the gravestones to take a few more shots from my favoured south-east corner of the churchyard. Incidentally this photograph is a crop from the top half of a portrait-format shot. I find this method is a useful way of getting reasonably upright verticals in the absence of an expensive tilt-shift lens.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Sempringham Priory

click photo to enlarge

Anyone looking at today's main photograph who saw the preceding blog post will be thinking, "OK, I see St Andrew's church, but where's the priory?" The answer is, it's under the long, regular shaped patch of uncultivated land in the middle foreground.

Like many medieval priories, abbeys, and monasteries, the building erected by St Gilbert and his followers that was the birthplace of the Gilbertines, the only monastic order to be founded in Britain, was abandonded in 1538 on the orders of Henry VIII. The Dissolution of the Monasteries as this act of vandalism was known resulted in the disappearance of many fine buildings. Others became ruins that later generations and their poets and painters found romantic. Quite a few ended up converted into rich men's houses. Some were reduced in size with an aisle left to be converted into a parish church. Local examples of the latter include South Kyme church and Croyland Abbey at Crowland.

At Sempringham the Clinton family bought the Priory and had the great building taken down. A hall was built on the site, probably using the stone. This had a shorter life than the ecclesiastical building that it replaced, and all that remains today of both buildings are foundations below ground and some surface rubble. A well associated with the Priory can be seen in the corner of the churchyard, and the outline of the canons' and nuns' (the Gilbertines uniquely admitted men and women) fishponds can be seen by a small stream. As we walked across the field we noticed that the ploughman had thrown a few large stones, scored by the plough, onto the track, something that many generations of ploughmen must have done as they kept turning up evidence of the great buildings below the soil's surface.

The main photograph was taken towards the end of our walk as we passed the church and Priory site at a distance. Earlier in the day we'd walked on a path nearer St Andrew's. It was then that I took the smaller photograph from a viewpoint where I took a similar shot a few years ago.

For more of my photographs of Sempringham church and its long-gone Priory see here and here for a fine old door, and here for a similar view to the smaller one above.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Landscape with church

click photo to enlarge

When I was a teenager I remember reading a book by the Dutch-American professor of history at Cornell University, Hendrik Willem van Loon (1882-1944). A prolific author, he specialized in writing books for younger people about history and the arts. Speaking of churches in the English landscape he noted that they fitted into it so well, better than was the case elsewhere. And it's certainly true, I think, that our churches do embellish the countryside and only rarely look like interlopers. Often it's the surrounding  trees of the churchyard that makes the church nestle into its village or fields. Frequently its the weathered native stone that seems right for both the building and  the location. And even where the church stands up tall and proud, clearly seen, the vertical accent that it adds to the view invariable looks complementary rather than dissonant. English painters long recognised this, and the likes of Constable, Turner, Cotman, and many others, were careful to include churches in their landscapes.

Today's photograph shows a distant prospect of the church of St Andrew at Sempringham, Lincolnshire. Standing some way from the nearest houses, out in the fields, it made a fine sight as we passed by on a recent walk. Parts of it date from the twelfth century, but fourteenth, fifteenth and nineteenth century additions comprise the rest. It wasn't always a solitary building. Until the sixteenth century a fine priory stood nearby but Henry VIII did for that as he did for so many, and today it must be enjoyed in splendid and picturesque isolation, the perfect subject for a passing photographer.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Winter colour and photography

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Last night I attended a talk about how to increase the amount of colour in your garden in winter. This is a challenge to all gardeners in the UK. Green and brown are easy to achieve, but the rest have to be planned. The speaker took us through four sources of plant colour - berries/fruit, leaves, bark and blooms. Quite a few of the examples he showed are present in our garden but some were new to me and he gave us a few ideas for planting. This morning, a cold and clear day, we went for a walk that took in three churches: Folkingham, Walcot and Pickworth. As we trudged over the low hills, along frosty footpaths that took us through pastures, winter wheat and vegetables, I looked about me and saw that, the blue of the sky excepted, green and brown were the dominant colours of the winter countryside too. The brown did shade into buff and almost yellow in places, and the orange bricks and pantiles of the farms and cottages added a high note here and there. But, wherever I looked it was mainly green and brown.

I took my photographs of Folkingham's pinnacled tower and the broach spires of Walcot and Pickworth. I also cast about for a few landscape shots. But, I wasn't very satisfied with much of my output largely because of the unremitting blue of the sky, its plainness relieved only by the odd vapour trail here and there. Moreover, the shadows that the sun produced were deep and dark, making the images very contrasty. So, this afternoon, as broken cloud rolled in, I went out again with my camera and took in the churches again, this time producing shots that I'm happier with. The late afternoon light, partly filtered by cloud, and with a yellow tinge, deepened the colours of everything and allowed the shadow details to be better seen.

Pickworth is one of my favourite nearby medieval churches, but it's a building that I haven't managed to photograph especially well. Today's image is the best so far - though I'm sure I can improve on it.

For a photograph of Pickworth church's fine old south door and some graffiti, see here.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: 7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A

Dowsby church

click photo to enlarge
A few evenings ago, as I was driving to a speaking engagement, my route took me past Dowsby church. At around 7pm in the middle of June the sun is low but still bright, and the absence of clouds on this particular day meant that it was modelling the landscape very nicely. Consequently, I pulled over, got out of the car, and took a couple of photographs of the medieval building from the roadside looking across the corner of a field of wheat.

Dowsby is in many respects a very typical English village church setting - quiet, leafy, verdant. Whilst many churches are in the centre of their settlements frequently they are at the edge, as in this case. Dowsby itself is no more than a handful of houses strung out around the junctions where a couple of side roads meet a main road. However, nearby is the old Dowsby Hall, and though it is later than the church, its wealth and influence will have exerted a pull on the church for several centuries. The churchyard at Dowsby is relatively small, as befits a building serving a small village and some farms. However, it does support a few trees as most English churchyards manage to do. The path through the churchyard is across the grass: presumably the congregation is so small that the wear of their passing feet has never necessitated the laying of something more permanent. Having said that, as the recent gravestones in this image from Google Street View show, the graveyard continues to accept the deceased.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Greensted Church, a wooden survivor

click photo to enlarge
Architectural historians the length and breadth of Britain know of Greensted church in Essex. I've been familiar with it through books for thirty odd years, but only got to visit it a few days ago. What makes this church so famous (if any parish church can be said to be so)? Well, it is the only surviving example in Britain of a type that in Saxon times was widespread - the log church.

The nave walls of Greensted church are made of 51 oak logs cut lengthwise. Grooves in the sides of the logs took long tongues of wood that sealed any gaps. The logs had tenons at the base to slot into a wooden sill (now replaced with a brick wall due to rot). At the corner of the wall, where it turns towards the timber spire, a log with a quarter section removed was used. Only one of these remains today. Dendrochronology shows that these wooden walls were erected between 1063 and 1100. This makes them Saxo-Norman in architectural terms. Inside the church the flat sides of the logs form the wall surface. In fact, like many Essex churches (an area of little good building stone) much of this building is made of timber and like almost all old parish churches it has been altered several times down the centuries. The brick chancel is early sixteenth century, the weatherboarded west tower is probably eighteenth century, and the nave roof and south porch are Victorian.

Greensted church is a remarkable survivor, not only the sole remaining representative of the log churches, but also the oldest standing timber building in the country (and Europe according to the church guide). I broke off my recent journey to London to take in Greensted, and was fortunate to arrive when the late afternoon sun was showing through the cloud. At that time of day a church with a west tower is best photographed from the south west to avoid glare and too much shadow on the building. For the first shot I placed myself as far back as the churchyard boundary and trees would allow. The second shot, showing the north side, was much easier to get.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1 (Photo 2)
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.) (17mm (34mm/35mm equiv.))
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/500 (1/250)
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 (-0.3) EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Heckington and the Decorated style of architecture

click photo to enlarge
"...one of the dozen or so grandest churches of Lincolnshire...a church remembered for Dec exuberance"
Pevsner, Buildings of England: Lincolnshire

The exterior of the church of St Andrew at Heckington, Lincolnshire, is beauty made stone. Some would say its spire is a little short, or, conversely, that its tower is a touch too big. Others would question the way the transepts fit into the body of the church. But none would deny the beauty of its pinnacles, the decoration of its buttresses, the 38 statues that adorn it, the inventive carving on its south porch, or the quality of its window tracery, particularly that of the east window. "Dec exuberance" sums it up nicely. However, the interior, after the splendours of what is outside, is somewhat disappointing. The Victorians scraped it too much. It is not without a few highlights though - the font of the 1300s, elaborate sedilia and piscina, and an Easter Sepulchre of the first order.

But what of the quotation at the start of this piece? Those without an interest in English Gothic architecture might be wondering about "Dec". Context suggests it might be short for decorative, but why then the capital "D"? In fact it is short for Decorated and refers to a style and period of architecture. The English architect, Thomas Rickman (1776-1841) was a self-taught and quite prolific builder of churches, who also took an antiquarian interest in the styles of the architecture of the Romanesque and Gothic churches that he found all across England. He categorised their architecture of the middle ages into four basic styles: Norman (1066-c.1190), Early English (c.1190 - c.1310), Decorated (c.1310-c.1390) and Perpendicular (c.1390-1485). Subsequent authors and ages have tinkered with the names and dates of this classification, and there are those who have pointed out its limitations. But for all its failings Rickman's original categories still stand up to scrutiny very well, and continue to be used by many laymen and academics.

So, today's photograph shows a significant and beautiful building of the Decorated period of English Gothic architecture, a style characterised by wider arches than Early English, the ogee arch, flamboyant and undulating lines and forms, crockets, naturalistic carving, fleurons, mouchettes and dagger-forms, chamfering and more. Heckington church is quite difficult to photograph in its entirety due to nearby buildings and closely planted trees. This shot, I felt, captured something of its essence, and shows its tower and spire, a buttress niche in the centre, and the top of the south porch on the right.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510

Mode: Aperture Priority

Focal Length: 12mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)

F No: f6.3

Shutter Speed: 1/800

ISO: 100

Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV

Image Stabilisation: On

The moon-rocket of Helpringham

click photo to enlarge
The medieval churches of the area of the Lincolnshire Fens known as Holland are one of its principal beauties. Just about every village and town has one, and so do many hamlets. It's not just the number of churches that makes this district unique, but their size and quality. It would be hard to find a place in England that can compare.

The richness of the buildings is a testament to the riches of the region in those years, a period when sheep, and more particularly the wool they produced, brought in so much money that each settlement could afford to build big and beautiful. Quite a few of Holland's churches have square topped, embattled towers, but a lot of the outstanding buildings have elegant spires. Within this group there is a sub-group that feature pinnacles and extremely slender flying buttresses that give support (but just how much?) to the spires. One such is the church shown in today's photograph, St Andrew, in the village of Helpringham. Among this sub-group of churches St Andrew stands out for the optical illusion that makes it look like the pinnacles are leaning away from the tower that supports them. When you get close the church that impression disappears, but look at it from half a mile or a mile away, and the illusion re-appears and looks most odd. In fact, to my eye (and quirky mind) this effect makes it look like a moon-rocket of "Flash Gordon" or "Dan Dare" vintage is poised on the top of the church tower, ready to blast off. Click to get the full-size image: I'll be surprised if you don't see it too!

This photograph was taken from the seat of my car. Driving towards the village I stopped at the best position for a photograph, but decided that getting out to take my shot presented something of a traffic hazard. So, I put on my hazard-warning lights, wound down the window, and quickly got my image. Not something I make a habit of, but it seemed the best option on this occasion.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm (140mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The curse of blue skies

click photo to enlarge
Today I reached a natural break in some floor tiling that I'm doing, so I seized the opportunity to get out of the house and take some photographs. I planned a route to take in a few churches, looked at the sky happily noting about 25% cloud cover, and set off. But alas and alack! As I approached my first destination I could see that the clouds were fast disappearing; and by the time of my second port of call they were nowhere to be seen.

I've given a few talks to groups of people about photography and blogging in which I've made a point of noting my dislike of clear blue skies when I'm doing photography. Quite a few in my audiences have clearly thought me mad. You could see them thinking, "This is England for heaven's sake, the place where it's usually cloudy, and where if it isn't cloudy it looks like it soon will be! What's wrong with a nice blue sky?" Now don't get me wrong, I like a clear blue sky and the sun on my back as much as the next person - well maybe not that much - but there are certainly times when I welcome it. However, those times do not include when I'm looking for photographs! Then I want the interest that clouds offer in themselves, and I also want the contribution they make by putting some compositional interest in the top of the frame.

One of the churches I wanted to photograph today was St Andrew at Asgarby. This building, with its exterior of the 1400s and interior of the 1300s, is in a tiny hamlet near a house and farm, and is surrounded on three sides by fields. It has a tall tower surmounted by a short spire, so any image of the whole of the exterior of the church, of necessity, includes a lot of sky: and a lot of plain blue sky is, frankly, boring. So what do you do? Well, above is one answer - you show the church in context, make your image a landscape, and fill the blue with the tracery of tree branches.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A modern altar

click photo to enlarge
The builders of churches have always been very aware of technological progress and fashion. When a new construction technique was devised - say the pointed arch that allowed wider spaces to be spanned and heavier loads to be carried than the existing rounded arches could manage - it soon spread across Europe as builders capitalised on the advantages that it conferred on their structures. Similarly, in the 1200s stylized foliage was preferred for the capitals of columns in England, but by the 1300s naturalistic carving of recognisable leaves, fruit and animals became the fashion, and held sway for many years. All this was very handy for architectural historians because it made it much easier to discern and describe a sequence of styles down the ages. The Victorians departed from this trend, when from the 1840s they tried to build in a Gothic style that looked authentically medieval. But, by the 1870s this had evolved into a recognisably C19 version of Gothic, and fashion re-asserted itself.

Today, the few new churches that are built are invariably of their time, using modern materials, methods and construction. However, they still usually carry an updated traditional motif or element - pointed windows, towers, fleches, etc - that signals "this is a church." The furnishings of churches vary in the degree of modernity that they exhibit. Where a new room is added inside a medieval building there is usually an attempt to "fit in" with the older fabric, and if it has an external wall a greater effort is generally made. Pulpits, altars and seating often combine a new style with traditional elements, though some progressive churches do commission furnishings with designs that don't draw on historical precedents: today's photograph is one such example. It shows an altar erected in 2005 at St Andrew, Holt, in Norfolk. The building has medieval elements dating back to the C14, but a fire in the C18 and vigorous Victorian restoration has altered the church more than many. Perhaps that made it easier to commission this very modern design when a Chapel of the Holy Sacrament was being established. It's the only altar I've ever seen that is bracketed off a wall. However, the elegant design, simple, but extremely striking lighting, and big flanking candlesticks make a very effective composition.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16mm (32mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/15 seconds
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Patience pays off

click photo to enlarge

People who know that I'm interested in photography often ask me how I get a good image. That's not a question that can be answered succinctly. The questioner often assumes it's down to the camera, but that piece of technology is usually the least significant factor, only marginally more important than the brand of brushes a painter uses, or the type of pen a writer favours! Those with a little more knowledge of photography think the lens must be a factor, and in truth it is usually more important than the camera body, but it's not usually critical.

When I reply that the ability to "see" images, to mentally put together compositions, to strongly want to create a photograph, to have an interest in light, tone, colour, composition, story telling, etc. then people glaze over! And if I add that, in my case, an interest in fine art (painting) is very important, and that I don't find reading books about cameras very helpful, then they switch off further. The ultimate turn off, though, is when I mention the importance of digital processing using the computer. But all of these factors are very important for me. For other photographers, however, it will be different. Many think that photography means travel, and for some photographers it does. For me it's not important: most of my best images come from the area in which I live, and are secured by repeatedly visiting the same locations at different times of day and year.

However, one attribute that I think is vital in securing a good image is patience: the willingness to re-visit a place many times, and more specifically, the ability to wait around until all the elements necessary for capturing the photograph as you envisage it, are in place. Take this shot of the church of St Andrew, Butterwick, Lincolnshire, a medieval building with an eighteenth century tower and Victorian additions, that I've been to a few times. The other day I was resigned to making an image of the building with flat lighting under a brooding sky. However, there was sufficient movement in the clouds for me to hope that the sun might get through and model the building better. So, as my wife went to explore the inside of the church, I remained outside and waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally I was rewarded by a pool of sunlight that moved towards, then over, the building. I fired off some shots, with a range of camera settings, aiming to ensure I got the photograph that I wanted. When I came to process the images, and particularly when I converted one to black and white, I was struck by how much the light and shadows made it look like a nineteenth century engraving. I really liked it and thought to myself, "That's the reward for your patience!"

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Battered but not broken

click photo to enlarge

The climate of the British Isles is classified as "temperate". The summers don't usually get too hot, the winters are never that cold, and rain is fairly regular. Snow doesn't fall as often as children would like, and frost is a winter regular but is usually not too harsh. One of the effects of weather with these characteristics is that ancient buildings slowly crumble unless serious efforts are made to conserve them. Freeze-thaw, rain (including the acid variety), wind and general damp take their toll on mortar joints, roof coverings, bricks, stone and foundations. Metal rusts easily, and wood rots.

It's salutary to compare the Roman remains of Britain with those of the drier, warmer Mediterranean countries. Hadrian's Wall that crosses Northern England is a visible structure of clearly cut stones, but details, sculpture, lettering etc are difficult to find, and the best examples are those that received the protection of being buried for centuries. There is no remaining, standing, Roman triumphal arch in Britain, yet beautifully detailed examples can be found in Southern France, Italy and elsewhere.

The same is true of medieval work. Italian buildings of the thirteenth century look fresher, and have more detail, than those of the same date in Britain.With all this in mind, many people are surprised to find that original wood and ironwork on the exterior of medieval buildings can still be found in this islands. Today's image, the south door of c.1250AD on the church of St Andrew, Sempringham, Lincolnshire, is a subject that I've photographed and written about before here. I had the opportunity to capture it again yesterday, and this time I included the handle of the door. The thumb lever has been worn extremely thin over the centuries, yet it still, like the door itself, performs its useful task perfectly. In fairness, at the end of the Victorian period a porch was built over the south door, so for just over a century the metal and wood has been protected from the elements. However, it is a tribute to the skill of the original crafstmen and to the reverence for this aged artefact that has existed down the ages, that in Britain's climate it is still there at all!

My recent visit to see the door gleaned one fact that is at variance with my original description of its construction: apparently the wood is "fir" (yew perhaps?) and not oak.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/40
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -1.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On