Land versus sky

click photo to enlarge
When I was starting out in photography over four decades ago I remember reading a number of "rules" - the dos and donts of good picture making. As I progressed and matured I came to see them as guides rather than rules and each as something that could be ignored if the circumstances warranted it. One such rule concerned the balance between land and sky. Never, it was said, have the horizon in the middle of your photograph giving equal weight to sky and land because if you do the viewer will not know where you wish to place your interest and emphasis - or words to that effect. It's not a bad piece of advice, and there is some truth in the guidance. However, there have been times when I have done just that because my compositional judgement said it was the best solution.

An extension of this rule was that you should split your composition 1/3 to 2/3. If the land was to be 2/3 then the sky would be 1/3 and vice versa. Again, it isn't a bad rule because it often looks "right". However, there are times when it looks wrong. These days I compose largely intuitively but every now and then I pause and think about the land/sky split and what the proportions should be. In the shot above the enormity and the interest of the Lincolnshire sky was accentuated by making it more than 1/3 of the composition. Moreover, the spire of Walcot church (see previous post), a structure that is big when you are nearby, is reduced to its proper insignificance when seen in the context of a broad landscape.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 38mm (57mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Walcot church revisited

click photo to enlarge
The church of St Nicholas at Walcot, Lincolnshire, is a favourite of mine. Its exterior leaves something to be desired aesthetically - the tower and spire are too tall for the nave and chancel, the entasis on the former looks a little odd and its broaches are unusually long. But, despite these shortcomings it is interesting and it makes for a prominent landmark in the locality.

However, when it comes to the interior it is a different story. Here the restorers did what was necessary and little more with the result that the medieval work hasn't been altered too much and the Victorian additions don't overpower it. Some would say it looks a little neglected but I welcome the absence of well-meaning tidying, polishing, renovating and prettifying. I like the oddities inside too, particularly the way old capitals were reused as column bases. I don't mind the absence of elaborate memorials and paintwork. And I welcome the "knocked about a bit" look of the pews. It's a rural church serving a small collection of farms and houses, and its sparse interior reflects the small population that services it.

On a recent walk I photographed a distant view of the church among the red tiled houses and agricultural buildings. When we went in to the church I took a view of the nave and chancel. As I took both of these photographs I had in mind two previous shots I've posted of the same subjects and it was with a view to comparison that I took the second set. Different seasons, different weather and different light have produced different shots. I prefer the earlier pair I think, so next time we are passing my aim will be to take photographs that better them.

photographs and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (27mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:1600
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Winter view of Walcot

click photo to enlarge
Walking in lowland Lincolnshire can be a mucky, sticky affair in winter. Arable land at this time of year is often wet and muddy and it's not uncommon to end a walk measuring a couple of inches taller than when you set off, such is the tenacity with which the soil clings to the sole of your boots. Consequently, a deep overnight frost is welcome because it means that fields which are usually impassable or unpleasant to walk, solidify and become much easier. In fact, the day we did a circular morning walk from Folkingham to Walcot, then on to Pickworth and finally back to Folkingham, the ground was like concrete and we left no footprints to mark our passage.

There is another feature of this walk that makes it a good choice for a winter walk and that is the greater than usual amount of pasture through which the footpaths meander. Permanent grass is reasonably common on Lincolnshire's higher land but less so lower down. In this area, especially around the villages, there is quite a bit that often has flocks of rather timid sheep or sometimes pet animals of the sort favoured by those who engage in "horsiculture."

The church at Walcot has become one of my favourite Lincolnshire churches. It suffered much less than many from the attentions of the restorers and enthusiasts, and what was done (mostly in 1907) was accomplished with sensitivity and respect for the achievements of the medieval builders and masons. The current congregation continues this work so when you enter the building you get a real sense of stepping into the past. Inside the fabric is mainly twelfth and thirteenth century, with the outside largely fourteenth century. I've posted photographs of the interior, the porch and the font before, but on the day of my visit the light wasn't bright enough for interior shots. However, I'd set out on this walk in the hope of returning with a landscape or two, and even though the weather deteriorated, the sun disappeared, and drab cloud rolled in, I managed this shot that features the broach spire of the distant church rising from the pantile roofs of the few farms and houses that constitute this small village.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 73mm
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The pleasure of the familiar

click photo to enlarge
I recently got rid of an old winter shirt. It wasn't just any shirt, it was my favourite shirt, a checked garment that I'd worn with pleasure for more years than I can remember. I was so fond of it that I found it a real wrench to give it up. But, the cuffs were falling apart and were beyond repair. Four or five years ago I'd come close to dispensing with it. On that occasion the collar had become threadbare to the point where it was quite noticeable. However, my talented wife, after a bout of heavy persuasion from me, took the collar off and sewed it on the other way round, with the offending section hidden under the fold. After I got it back an air of contentment settled on me once more. From this you might think that I'm a skinflint - I'm not (well not that much!), or that I don't like to buy new clothes - I do (but not that much!) No, they weren't the issue. There was something much more fundamental to the human psyche at work here, something to do with our liking for that which is familiar, and that which has given us good service. It's often the case that we don't like to change or get rid of such things.

Take the porch in today's photograph. It is on the south side of Walcot church in Lincolnshire, a building that has featured in this blog in two other photographs here and here. The structure dates from the fourteenth century, though some twelfth century stonework has been incorporated. The door that is just visible is early eighteenth century, and the outer gate is older than such things usually are. However, whilst most of these details can be dated by their stylistic peculiarities, the cracked stone floor can't. It was the way the light fell on this old surface that prompted my photograph. Like most old churches this one has been restored down the centuries. Walcot church's foundations were renewed in 1889, and general restoration took place in 1907 and 1926. Does the stone floor of the porch date from any of these make-overs? I'd guess not. In 1889 they'd certainly have laid a floor that would not have sunk and cracked, and probably would have used some decorative tiles. It can't be later than that date. So, why wasn't it restored? Why is this old surface still in use? My guess is that the parishioners liked its character, enjoyed the step that is worn down by the footfall of successive generations of worshippers, and wanted to retain that with which they were familiar. Maybe they didn't want to spend their money on shiny, fashionable tiles of unproven worth. A new floor (like a new shirt) just isn't the same as a tried and trusted old favourite!

Incidentally this photograph was taken with the LX3 set to the aspect ratio of 16:9, and has a small amount cropped off the bottom. I've taken a few subjects in portrait format using this ratio where it seems the most suitable option.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Sunlit church interiors

click photo to enlarge
In the days when I took photographs inside churches using a 35mm camera I almost always used a tripod. The older medieval churches and many Victorian buildings, through a combination of small windows and stained glass, have low levels of light, and so a stability aid was often necessary. In churches of the fifteenth and sixteenth century, and in certain later churches, larger windows and less (or more translucent) stained glass sometimes meant that the tripod could be dispensed with. There is a big difference in all churches between a sunny summer day and an overcast winter day, but the general principles outlined above still hold.

When I transferred to digital in 2000 the situation didn't change: a tripod accompanied my church photography. Anyone who has photographed in this way knows that carrying a heavy lump of metal around, and erecting and disassembling it on a regular basis detracts from the pleasure of photography. So, when Olympus introduced in-body image stabilisation in a camera that I was prepared to pay for (the E510), then I gratefully bought one. And I've never looked back. Today I don't often use a tripod. The image above was taken with my compact camera (the LX3). This too has image stabilisation (and a fast f2 lens), so it rarely requires a tripod. The smaller sensor means that it has good depth of field, even when wide open, and its high ISO capabilities are fairly acceptable, so it manages dark interiors quite well: in some respects better than the Olympus.

If I'm photographing church interiors with the architecture in mind I much prefer a bright but sunless day. When there is sunlight throwing shafts and pools of light in a predominantly dark interior the dynamic range of the subject is enormous, and getting detail in the shadows without the sunlit patches turing to white is next to impossible. However, when I'm looking to capture the light and mood of a church interior I often welcome a beam of sunlight through a traceried or leaded window: it makes the old stonework glow, adds an interesting focal point, and sharpens the carved details. It was these qualities that prompted today's photograph of the west corner of the south aisle that holds the font in the church of St Nicholas at Walcot in Lincolnshire. For another of my blog photographs of this church interior see here, and for a full-size version, here (click the image for maximum dimensions).

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Interiors without a tripod

click photo to enlarge
click HERE for full-size image - 3648 X 2736 pixels (2 Mb file)
Many people make the assumption that because I take a lot of photographs I'm interested in cameras. The fact is I'm not. I'm interested in photographs, and cameras only to the extent that they make securing a good image easier. For my needs four things are important - a reasonable price, the ability to finely control the exposure, a reasonably small size for body and lenses, and low light performance.

Price matters because DSLR development hasn't levelled off yet, so replacement and improvement happens more often than it did with film SLRs (and I've got other things I want to spend my money on)! Control of exposure is important because it is the critical factor in securing the image: DSLRs make this easier than most other types of camera. Small size is really critical for me because I walk and cycle a lot with my camera, and the small camera you have with you always secures better images than the (maybe better) bigger camera you leave at home because of its size! Then there's low light performance. Image stabilization is the most significant development for me in recent years. It has allowed me to capture images, particularly of church interiors, that previously I could get only with a tripod. Now, if Olympus could increase its high ISO performance to somewhere near that of the big two manufacturers, I'd be a very happy man because the tripod would become almost redundant.

Today's image is of the interior of the church of St Nicholas, Walcot, Lincolnshire, bathed in the yellow light of the low November sun. The architecture dates from the the 1200s and 1300s, and is notable for the beautiful fourteenth century east window with its flowing tracery, and the carved fifteenth century bench ends. It's an interior that wasn't "scraped" (see yesterday's post). The shot was hand-held at 1/20 second at f6.3, ISO 200. Is it as sharp as it would have been with the camera on a tripod? No, but it's sharp enough to produce a perfectly acceptable A3 print. I've included a slightly compressed (75%) version of the full-size shot for your perusal. It has a little post processing, some noise suppression, but no sharpening. With my old OM1 I never shot at a speed lower than 1/30, and then it was with 400ISO HP5 with the 50mm fully open at f1.8. These days I risk shots at 1/6 second, and am usually quite happy with those taken at 1/15.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On