Where's its face?

click photo to enlarge
One of the delightful things about children is that you never know what they might say next. What can seem to be evidence of a grasshopper mind or a struggle to understand is more often than not simply an indication that children's thought isn't constrained by the same wide range of experiences that often limit adult thinking.

My wife tells a story of the dawning realisation by a small boy who knew her that my surname is the same as hers. After repeating both our names - "Mr Boughen, Mrs Boughen" a few times to fully establish the connection he said, "Do you live in the same house?" As my wife replied in the affirmative she wondered just where his mind would go next. But what he came up with was nowhere near what she thought he might say. "Does it have a chimney?" he enquired.

During our recent couple of days out and about in London with our granddaughter we visited the Sea Life London Aquarium. She'd been there when she was younger and had been quite scared of the sharks. On this occasion, however, she was fascinated by everything she saw and we spent a couple of hours slowly moving through the building marvelling at the variety of life on display. When we came to a tank that held some jellyfish we paused to watch them swim about by pulsating their bodies. We'd answered a lot of questions up to that point but I wasn't prepared for the one that these jellyfish prompted. "Where's its face?" she asked. A perfectly reasonable question from a child whose experience of animal life up to that point has been largely with those that have eyes and mouths. But not the easiest question for a grandfather to answer in a way that a two year old can understand.

I took quite a few photographs of the creatures in the aquarium. However, low light levels, fast moving fish and a relatively small sensor camera don't make for photographic 100% success. Quite a few shots had motion blur or other shortcomings. But the jellyfish came out rather better (as did the crocodiles, terrapins and slower moving fish). These examples were in a tank with lighting that cycled through a variety of colours. The main photograph is best of the crop for the lighting and the composition. I include the other two for contrast.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The sun and The Deep

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Each winter I try to take a few photographs that include the sun. I don't mean sunrise and sunset shots, though these are easier to acquire at that time of year - you don't have to be out and about early or late! No, I'm thinking more of when the sun is fully above the horizon though low in the sky: early afternoon is a good time.

What appeals to me about such images is the drama conferred by the big glowing white ball, the contrast that results from the deep shadows thrown by objects in the foreground, the flare that the lens often produces, and the sheer unpredictability of the outcome. On a recent day visit to the city of Hull I had little time for photography. However, I did manage to spend a short time around the point where the River Hull meets the River Humber. When I lived in the city I often cycled and photographed in this area so it's always a pleasure to return. On my visit I took a few shots that include the sun on the old High Street and then again from the new footbridge over the River Hull, upstream from the big, futuristic looking aquarium called "The Deep". Regular readers of this blog may remember images taken last year in this location (see this sequence). I was prompted to take today's photograph as much by the glistening mud revealed by low tide as anything else, but I was careful to use the sun as a visual counterweight to the building in my composition. The overall effect is a touch other-worldly but not, I think, unappealing.

For other winter images including the bright sun see this one with a gate and snow, this one also with snow, or perhaps this one with vapour trails.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Observatory Cafe

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I'd never been into the cafe at "The Deep" aquarium in Kingston upon Hull until a few days ago. Moreover, until we headed up to it I didn't know that it was called "The Observatory Cafe". When I got there the view of the River Humber, the River Hull, the waterside buildings and the distant shore of Lincolnshire, showed that it was well named. However, as I sat and drank my cup of tea, gazing down through the angled windows, and studying my surroundings, it occurred to me that it wasn't as well named as it could have been.

I imagine the architect envisaged diners looking out at the view and pointing out the passing river traffic. But, the days when this scene would always have had a ship or boat heading up or downstream are long past. The focus of shipping in the port of Hull is now downstream (left) of this view. One or two small craft use the River Hull, yachts and launches moored in the marina venture out at reasonably regular intervals, the occasional small vessel from the Port of Goole passes, and the docks that remain open upstream (right) of the view generate the odd craft. But the fish docks that would have sent deep-sea trawlers regularly past this point are virtually silent, and the smaller commercial traffic of the adjacent docks, has almost vanished.

There's nothing wrong with "The Observatory" as a name for this location, but it seemed to me that "The Bridge" (of either a trawler, a liner or some futuristic starship) was more appropriate. Looking at my photograph on the computer screen only reinforced this feeling. I was in two minds whether or not to turn this almost monochrome image into a black and white shot, but the blue/green tinted glass and the muted colours that just about make themselves felt gave it a quality I liked, so I stayed with colour.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The deep end

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I've written about Kingston upon Hull's Terry Farrell designed aquarium, "The Deep", before. On that occasion I had a few thoughts about its purpose and shape, and posted a photograph of its angular steel exterior and colourful windows. That shot shows part of the elevation that faces the River Humber. On my recent visit I noticed that this area of steel has been coated with some kind of dark paint/covering: presumably the original finish has been found wanting in some way. Today's main photograph also shows part that overlooks the Humber, but this time it includes what is probably the most interesting exterior feature of the building - its sharp, glazed prow that encloses "The Observatory" cafe. The gleaming steel, angular shapes, coloured glass cladding and the the thrusting point of the tip invited a semi-abstract approach to my composition.

I also took a more distant, contextual photograph from the old pier, and this shot set me thinking once again about the design of the building. The location, on a triangular promontory, determines the overall shape, but what I wondered as I took my photograph was why the architect treats the elevation at which the visitor arrives so poorly, and applies his art to the less frequently seen elevations that front the Humber and the River Hull. Certainly anyone crossing the latter river and standing near the old pier gets a good view of the building. However, those who see the River Humber elevation is restricted to people on boats and ships. I wondered too about the overall shape as seen in my smaller photograph. It seems animal-like, with a pointed head to the right, a creature about to pounce on its prey with details that can be interpreted (am I being too fanciful?) as feet and an eye. Was that the intention? I left thinking that, firstly, I'd like to have seen that great flat wall recess or protrude in one or two places a bit more than it does, and secondly, that if the slight breaks in the incined roof line were a bit bigger they would have offered more interest. If that sounds like I'm damning what I see, I'm not - there is a lot to like, and a lot to photograph.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1600
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Windows on The Deep

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Will the day come when we lament the passing of the right angle in architecture? The answer to that will surely be, "No, there is too much that is right about the right angle, and too little that is wrong!" I ask the question because for the past couple of decades we've seen an increasing number of buildings whose aesthetic depends on acute and oblique angles (as well as curves.) Architects such as Frank Gehry and Daniel Libeskind through their various cultural buildings have been influential in this trend, a development about which I have very mixed feelings.

It seems to me that buildings such as Gehry's Walt Disney Concert Hall, Foster's 30 St Mary Axe, Libeskind's Imperial War Museum North, or Future Systems' Selfridges Department Store are expressionistic designs that have arisen for reasons other than being the best solution to the needs of the client. They are "landmark" buildings, structures that are designed to catch the eye, to promote the locality, intended to say "modern" or "the future" to all who look at them. They seem to be buildings whose forms are as they are because they can be: the product of architects who have fully grasped the change that computers and new materials have brought to the profession. They also give the impression of being the work of frustrated sculptors! I won't, however, deny that these buildings can bring focus to a location, can act as a regenerative force, and have great visual appeal. I would say, though, that those qualities should be secondary to the functional purpose of a building, and therein lies my equivocation about such structures: I'm not sure that many of them fulfill that principal objective.

I recently visited The Deep in Kingston upon Hull. This deep water aquarium by Terry Farrell sits at the confluence of the River Hull with theRiver Humber. Its angular, thrusting shape is very eye-catching, and includes few right-angles. Its raison d'etre is to assist with the regeneration and development of the river front of this part of the city. As such it was funded by the National Lottery's Millennium Commission project. It has been successful in achieving its stated aims. However, one has to ask whether the building is this shape, and made of these materials, because it's the most effective way to house the aquariums and the attendant facilities. But, my quibbles aside, there's no denying its "presence" and the use a photographer can make of its origami shape. My photograph shows a detail of the wall and windows on the River Humber elevation. I composed it with a thought to balance, line and colour, and deliberately left a sliver of sky at the top right.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19mm (38mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

People as scale, focus and compositional element

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I've said elsewhere in this blog that people are rarely the main subject in my photo- graphs, family snaps excepted. However, I do value the contrib- ution that the human figure can make to an image. Moreover, in one area of photography I search for people where others would make every effort to remove them.

Perhaps it's my interest in painting that makes me include people in landscapes wherever it's possible. Look at landscape paintings from the Italian Renaissance through to the twentieth century and you'll usually see figures somewhere. Titian has them, Breughel too, the English landscape painters of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries invariably include them, as do the Impressionists. But, from Cezanne onwards, and particularly where an element of abstraction is introduced, landscapes start to appear that are devoid of the human form.

On the other hand, perhaps it's because I don't compose images around people that I include them in landscapes. I think not however, preferring to see my reasons for their inclusion as three-fold. Firstly, people can give scale to those scenes that aren't always easy to read in terms of the size of the objects on view. Secondly, our eye instantly recognises and is drawn towards the human form, so it immediately confers a point of interest or focus to an image. The third point arises from the second: given the visual importance that we attach to a person in a photograph, a figure can be a useful compositional device. Moreover, even if the figure is quite small it still has a lot of visual "weight". So, a relatively insignificant, distant figure on the left of a scene can quite easily balance a large and prominent object on the right.

Today's photograph exemplifies my first two reasons for the inclusion of people. I took several shots of the Humber-facing point of this aquarium in Kingston upon Hull called "The Deep". The thrusting, prow-like shape and the aggressive architecture (by Terry Farrell & Co.), alongside the navigation lights and markers, make for an interesting photograph, even when taken against the light. But, when a family came into view at the base of the building I knew that their inclusion would add scale and a point of interest that would add significantly to the image.

photographs & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 61mm (122mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On