click photo to enlarge
To the layman the word "choir" has one meaning, namely a group of people who sing collectively. To anyone interested in architecture, particularly that of churches and cathedrals, it has a further meaning - the part of the church in which the divine service is sung by the choir. Thus it refers to a space rather than people. Usually this is in the chancel near the high altar. Quite often the terms chancel and choir are used interchangeably.
Today's photograph shows the gate that leads from the eastern end of the crossing tower into the choir of Lichfield Cathedral in Staffordshire. Anyone who has visited a number of English cathedrals will know that the richest decoration of such buildings is usually to be found in the chancel and around the high altar. This is the case at Lichfield. However, when I saw the choir and the ornate gates they struck me as exceptionally rich for the British context. This partly due to the efforts of the Victorians who favoured concentrations of colour, shiny metal and paint far more than did most post-medieval churchmen.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Choir, Lichfield Cathedral, Staffordshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
Showing posts with label architecture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label architecture. Show all posts
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Not worth a glance?
click photo to enlarge
As we sat in the centre of Seville a guide passed us followed by a small flock of tourists. Gesticulating at the building behind us he explained in English with a Spanish accent, and without breaking step, that it contained only "documents, documents, documents", implying that it wasn't worth a glance. What he was airily dismissing as they pressed on to the next highlight of their tour was in fact one of the three buildings in Seville that have been granted UNESCO World Heritage status (along with the cathedral and the Real Alcazar). It was the Archivo General de Indias, a former merchant exchange dating back to the 1580s that has, since the eighteenth century, housed the archives of the Spanish Empire's discoveries and involvement in the Americas and the Philippines.
Admittedly, the building's exterior is somewhat severe with main elevations that differ in only minor ways. However, the interior has a fine courtyard, imposing main staircase and rooms and corridors with fine marble floors, coffered barrel vaulted ceilings, sumptuous bookcases and interesting paintings. Well worth seeing and a subject that I thought cried out for the widest of my wide angle lenses.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Archivo General de Indias, Seville
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:1250
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
As we sat in the centre of Seville a guide passed us followed by a small flock of tourists. Gesticulating at the building behind us he explained in English with a Spanish accent, and without breaking step, that it contained only "documents, documents, documents", implying that it wasn't worth a glance. What he was airily dismissing as they pressed on to the next highlight of their tour was in fact one of the three buildings in Seville that have been granted UNESCO World Heritage status (along with the cathedral and the Real Alcazar). It was the Archivo General de Indias, a former merchant exchange dating back to the 1580s that has, since the eighteenth century, housed the archives of the Spanish Empire's discoveries and involvement in the Americas and the Philippines.
Admittedly, the building's exterior is somewhat severe with main elevations that differ in only minor ways. However, the interior has a fine courtyard, imposing main staircase and rooms and corridors with fine marble floors, coffered barrel vaulted ceilings, sumptuous bookcases and interesting paintings. Well worth seeing and a subject that I thought cried out for the widest of my wide angle lenses.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Archivo General de Indias, Seville
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:1250
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
Labels:
architecture,
Archivo General de Indias,
marble,
Seville,
Spain,
symmetry,
vaulting
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Enforced phone photography - b & w
click photo to enlarge
My smartphone camera isn't the best for photographing people - especially fast moving children. However, it deals reasonably well with static subjects such as architecture. The qualification to the last statement is - if it is well lit. Today's photograph shows the concrete staircase in the Switch Room, Tate Modern's £260 million extension with three gallery levels. The exterior, with its angular brick walls, window slits, great views and fascinating lighting at night is becoming well known - especially to the inhabitants of the new, glass-walled residential towers nearby who resent having spent up to £19 million for a flat only to find gallery visitors peering into their rooms.
The interior features quite a lot of new raw concrete that extends from the old raw concrete that was laid down when the building was a power station. The most arresting feature is the spiral staircase shown in today's photograph. This wasn't a particularly well lit subject and the resulting image had quite a bit of noise. But, that noise was quite amenable to cleaning up and so I thought I'd find out what the resulting image looked like when converted to black and white. Not too bad is my answer.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Staircase, Switch House, Tate Modern, London
Smartphone photograph
My smartphone camera isn't the best for photographing people - especially fast moving children. However, it deals reasonably well with static subjects such as architecture. The qualification to the last statement is - if it is well lit. Today's photograph shows the concrete staircase in the Switch Room, Tate Modern's £260 million extension with three gallery levels. The exterior, with its angular brick walls, window slits, great views and fascinating lighting at night is becoming well known - especially to the inhabitants of the new, glass-walled residential towers nearby who resent having spent up to £19 million for a flat only to find gallery visitors peering into their rooms.
The interior features quite a lot of new raw concrete that extends from the old raw concrete that was laid down when the building was a power station. The most arresting feature is the spiral staircase shown in today's photograph. This wasn't a particularly well lit subject and the resulting image had quite a bit of noise. But, that noise was quite amenable to cleaning up and so I thought I'd find out what the resulting image looked like when converted to black and white. Not too bad is my answer.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Staircase, Switch House, Tate Modern, London
Smartphone photograph
Friday, September 02, 2016
Talking about towers
click photo to enlarge
Concern has been expressed in the press recently about the number, location and quality of the towers that have recently been erected, and are in the pipeline for construction, in London. It's right that there should be a public debate about such things, for at least two reasons. Firstly towers can materially blight a location. Secondly, towers can materially improve a location. The impact of a tower on a settlement, large or small, is greater than almost any other building. Medieval churchmen knew this and constructed theirs with an eye to god and a greater eye to impressing the populace.
In 2006 I touched on this subject in a blog post entitled, "Vertical accents". I briefly revisited it in 2011 in "View with spires". In a post of 2009, "Navigation by church spire", I commented on the usefulness of the church towers and spires as signposts for the cyclist. And, elsewhere in the blog I have spoken of the beauty and pleasure that these structures offer, and the challenges they offer the photographer. Today's photograph show the top of the particularly fine medieval tower of Holy Trinity, Hull, glimpsed above wind-blown tree tops beneath a threatening sky.In the city of Hull this tower continues to be one of the tallest towers in the city. Church towers no longer enjoy that distinction in London. However, careful planning can minimise the negative impact of new tall buildings on these older structures, and I hope that is one of the outcomes of the current debate.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Tower Top of Holy Trinity, Hull
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 120mm (240mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Concern has been expressed in the press recently about the number, location and quality of the towers that have recently been erected, and are in the pipeline for construction, in London. It's right that there should be a public debate about such things, for at least two reasons. Firstly towers can materially blight a location. Secondly, towers can materially improve a location. The impact of a tower on a settlement, large or small, is greater than almost any other building. Medieval churchmen knew this and constructed theirs with an eye to god and a greater eye to impressing the populace.
In 2006 I touched on this subject in a blog post entitled, "Vertical accents". I briefly revisited it in 2011 in "View with spires". In a post of 2009, "Navigation by church spire", I commented on the usefulness of the church towers and spires as signposts for the cyclist. And, elsewhere in the blog I have spoken of the beauty and pleasure that these structures offer, and the challenges they offer the photographer. Today's photograph show the top of the particularly fine medieval tower of Holy Trinity, Hull, glimpsed above wind-blown tree tops beneath a threatening sky.In the city of Hull this tower continues to be one of the tallest towers in the city. Church towers no longer enjoy that distinction in London. However, careful planning can minimise the negative impact of new tall buildings on these older structures, and I hope that is one of the outcomes of the current debate.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Tower Top of Holy Trinity, Hull
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 120mm (240mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
Holy Trinity,
Hull,
towers
Friday, August 26, 2016
Number 63
click photo to enlarge
Peter Cook, one of the founders the 1960s British architectural group, Archigram, has in his 80s, laid into some of the current generation of architects. He is particularly scathing of the King's Cross development in London, and is reported to have described some of the work as resembling biscuits, and the architects who build in this fashion as "the biscuit boys". The past twenty years, he maintains has been characterised by a dearth of interesting, adventurous architecture, and he is said to dislike the greater use of brick that is now evident (something I have found interesting). Cook's praise is given to practitioners, such as Zaha Hadid, who embody the characteristics that he has advocated for much of his life.
I reflected on what he had to say recently as I looked at a new London building that I thought was very biscuit-like. The building is on Clerkenwell Road, on a corner site that it wraps around. It has deep blue tinted windows that contrast with the facade's light coloured, brick-like strips that are laid with mortar. Something more akin to artisanal biscuits would be hard to find. But I like the building for the choice of these materials, for the fine detail of its surface and for some of the subtleties that are visible as you pass by. One such is the way the number of the building has been has been built into the brickwork - to my mind it manages to look both crude and sophisticated at the same time.
As I took my shot I also reflected on the fact that numbers are starting to become a theme in my photographs and perhaps one that I should develop further. See, for example my blog posts Number 9 and Number 5.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Number in Bricks, Clerkenwell Road, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 31mm (62mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Peter Cook, one of the founders the 1960s British architectural group, Archigram, has in his 80s, laid into some of the current generation of architects. He is particularly scathing of the King's Cross development in London, and is reported to have described some of the work as resembling biscuits, and the architects who build in this fashion as "the biscuit boys". The past twenty years, he maintains has been characterised by a dearth of interesting, adventurous architecture, and he is said to dislike the greater use of brick that is now evident (something I have found interesting). Cook's praise is given to practitioners, such as Zaha Hadid, who embody the characteristics that he has advocated for much of his life.
I reflected on what he had to say recently as I looked at a new London building that I thought was very biscuit-like. The building is on Clerkenwell Road, on a corner site that it wraps around. It has deep blue tinted windows that contrast with the facade's light coloured, brick-like strips that are laid with mortar. Something more akin to artisanal biscuits would be hard to find. But I like the building for the choice of these materials, for the fine detail of its surface and for some of the subtleties that are visible as you pass by. One such is the way the number of the building has been has been built into the brickwork - to my mind it manages to look both crude and sophisticated at the same time.As I took my shot I also reflected on the fact that numbers are starting to become a theme in my photographs and perhaps one that I should develop further. See, for example my blog posts Number 9 and Number 5.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Number in Bricks, Clerkenwell Road, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 31mm (62mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
bricks,
Clerkenwell Road,
London,
number 63
Friday, August 05, 2016
Woolsthorpe Manor, Lincolnshire
click photo to enlarge
Woolsthorpe Manor, near Colsterworth, Lincolnshire, is a manor house built in the early 1600s with early eighteenth century alterations and additions.Its walls are constructed of courses of squared limestone rubble with ashlar quoins. All the mullioned windows, drip moulds, chimneys and other details are made of carefully finished limestone. The roof is made of Collyweston slate and is protected by raised stone coped gables with kneelers. It is a two storey building with a basement and attic rooms. The plan is T-shaped with a projection and external stone stairs to the first storey at the back. It has three principal rooms including a kitchen on the ground floor. The bedrooms above are reached by an eighteenth century wooden staircase
The manor house is not untypical of its time, and has features that can be found in other similar buildings. However, it has one distinction that can be claimed by no other building - it was the birthplace, on 25th December 1642, of Isaac Newton, the eminent English scientist.
The building is in the care of the National Trust and open to visitors. It has been sympathetically restored and the interior rooms feature furniture, fixtures and fittings typical of the time as well as connected with Newton. The agricultural buildings are now used for a range of visitor purposes - cafe, toilets, bookshop, displays etc, and the grounds feature grassed areas, a small orchard and some borders with flowers. On the day of our visit it was teeming with people but I managed to get this shot of the front of the house without a single person in sight.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Woolsthorpe Manor, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Woolsthorpe Manor, near Colsterworth, Lincolnshire, is a manor house built in the early 1600s with early eighteenth century alterations and additions.Its walls are constructed of courses of squared limestone rubble with ashlar quoins. All the mullioned windows, drip moulds, chimneys and other details are made of carefully finished limestone. The roof is made of Collyweston slate and is protected by raised stone coped gables with kneelers. It is a two storey building with a basement and attic rooms. The plan is T-shaped with a projection and external stone stairs to the first storey at the back. It has three principal rooms including a kitchen on the ground floor. The bedrooms above are reached by an eighteenth century wooden staircase
The manor house is not untypical of its time, and has features that can be found in other similar buildings. However, it has one distinction that can be claimed by no other building - it was the birthplace, on 25th December 1642, of Isaac Newton, the eminent English scientist.
The building is in the care of the National Trust and open to visitors. It has been sympathetically restored and the interior rooms feature furniture, fixtures and fittings typical of the time as well as connected with Newton. The agricultural buildings are now used for a range of visitor purposes - cafe, toilets, bookshop, displays etc, and the grounds feature grassed areas, a small orchard and some borders with flowers. On the day of our visit it was teeming with people but I managed to get this shot of the front of the house without a single person in sight.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Woolsthorpe Manor, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Neighbours of 1902 and 1970
click photo to enlarge
A mere sixty eight years separates the completion of the two buildings shown in today's photograph yet it might be centuries and they might be from different planets. However, both are on Euston Road in London.
On the left is the London County Council (LCC)Fire Brigade Station of 1902, built with flats above the two-bay engine house. It is the work of an in-house architect of the LCC, H. F. T. Cooper. The materials are red brick, Portland stone and slate on the roofs. Yellow stock bricks are used in the basement. The style is Arts and Crafts and it is notably asymmetrical.
The building on the right, now called Evergreen House, was conceived in 1965 and completed in 1970.It is built of steel and glass in the International Style, one of many towers across the world that owe a massive debt to Mies van der Rohe.
There are those who abhor such juxtapositions, usually favouring one style over the other, and wishing that there was greater consonance between adjacent buildings. I can see the place for that kind of planning. However, I can also see the visual delight in seeing the contrast of two completely different styles side-by-side. And as a photographer I revel in it as this blog frequently testifies. See here, here and here for example.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: 1902 LCC Fire Brigade Station and 1970 Evergreen House, Euston Road, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 54mm (108mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
A mere sixty eight years separates the completion of the two buildings shown in today's photograph yet it might be centuries and they might be from different planets. However, both are on Euston Road in London.
On the left is the London County Council (LCC)Fire Brigade Station of 1902, built with flats above the two-bay engine house. It is the work of an in-house architect of the LCC, H. F. T. Cooper. The materials are red brick, Portland stone and slate on the roofs. Yellow stock bricks are used in the basement. The style is Arts and Crafts and it is notably asymmetrical.
The building on the right, now called Evergreen House, was conceived in 1965 and completed in 1970.It is built of steel and glass in the International Style, one of many towers across the world that owe a massive debt to Mies van der Rohe.
There are those who abhor such juxtapositions, usually favouring one style over the other, and wishing that there was greater consonance between adjacent buildings. I can see the place for that kind of planning. However, I can also see the visual delight in seeing the contrast of two completely different styles side-by-side. And as a photographer I revel in it as this blog frequently testifies. See here, here and here for example.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: 1902 LCC Fire Brigade Station and 1970 Evergreen House, Euston Road, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 54mm (108mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Wednesday, July 06, 2016
Staircase, The Hub, Regent's Park
click photo to enlarge
Wherever I go I come across Hubs. By that I mean buildings that have been given that name, presumably to, in some way, describe how they are the focal point of one kind of activity or another. In recent years I've been to Hubs in Lancashire, Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and London, and I know of others. Some have been training venues, one was a gallery, one a medical facility, another an educational establishment. Clearly this name has attractions for organisations but one can't help but wonder how much confusion is caused by its popularity. Most recently I visited a Hub that was a new building built into a mound, topped by a cafe, that serves as the focal point of a number of sports facilities in Regent's Park, London.
This particular Hub was a quite utilitarian building, designed of materials that could cope with muddy, sweaty, athletic people who were using the lockers, toilets, cafe etc. Fortunately the architects had an eye that went beyond utility and the building incorporated a particularly interesting central staircase that connected the ground level (actually below ground level) with the cafe at the top of the mound. Glass, steel, concrete and plywood combined with the well-lit top of the building to create sinuous lines between the two floors - an attractive subject for a photograph.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Staircase, The Hub, Regent's Park, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15mm (30mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Wherever I go I come across Hubs. By that I mean buildings that have been given that name, presumably to, in some way, describe how they are the focal point of one kind of activity or another. In recent years I've been to Hubs in Lancashire, Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and London, and I know of others. Some have been training venues, one was a gallery, one a medical facility, another an educational establishment. Clearly this name has attractions for organisations but one can't help but wonder how much confusion is caused by its popularity. Most recently I visited a Hub that was a new building built into a mound, topped by a cafe, that serves as the focal point of a number of sports facilities in Regent's Park, London.
This particular Hub was a quite utilitarian building, designed of materials that could cope with muddy, sweaty, athletic people who were using the lockers, toilets, cafe etc. Fortunately the architects had an eye that went beyond utility and the building incorporated a particularly interesting central staircase that connected the ground level (actually below ground level) with the cafe at the top of the mound. Glass, steel, concrete and plywood combined with the well-lit top of the building to create sinuous lines between the two floors - an attractive subject for a photograph.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Staircase, The Hub, Regent's Park, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15mm (30mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
London,
Regent's Park,
staircase,
The Hub
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Novelty in architecture
click photo to enlarge
Architecture is no less subject to the search for novelty than any other art, craft or commercial undertaking. Novelty catches the eye of the public and, frequently, the money of the buyer. It can be the entirely legitimate result of new ideas, improved technology etc. But it can also be a deliberate application to an object with the sole purpose of realising a sale, a veneer laid over something that is otherwise unexceptional. To be fair, novelty can enrich the public sphere regardless of its motivation. However, where a form doesn't spring from an underlying need or function too often it fails.
I passed some new flats in Stoke Newington in London recently. The overall form was commonplace - a large block with a grid of windows, some floor to ceiling glass walls, and glazed stairwells. The main feature that distinguished it from other blocks of flats was the decorative treatment of the solid walls. These were painted lemon yellow and overlaid with strips of galvanised mesh arranged in a lattice-work pattern. The metalwork had no purpose that I could deduce except decoration. My first thought on seeing it was, will each of the points where it is fixed to the wall develop a water stain below? This was followed by the thought that the painters will really struggle when it needs painting again. I've commented elsewhere on this blog about the unforeseen consequences of decorative treatments on new architecture. Perhaps an algorithm could be built into architectural software that would identify locations with the potential to develop stains. Perhaps it already exists.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Elevation Detail, Newington Court, Stoke Newington, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 39mm (78mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Architecture is no less subject to the search for novelty than any other art, craft or commercial undertaking. Novelty catches the eye of the public and, frequently, the money of the buyer. It can be the entirely legitimate result of new ideas, improved technology etc. But it can also be a deliberate application to an object with the sole purpose of realising a sale, a veneer laid over something that is otherwise unexceptional. To be fair, novelty can enrich the public sphere regardless of its motivation. However, where a form doesn't spring from an underlying need or function too often it fails.
I passed some new flats in Stoke Newington in London recently. The overall form was commonplace - a large block with a grid of windows, some floor to ceiling glass walls, and glazed stairwells. The main feature that distinguished it from other blocks of flats was the decorative treatment of the solid walls. These were painted lemon yellow and overlaid with strips of galvanised mesh arranged in a lattice-work pattern. The metalwork had no purpose that I could deduce except decoration. My first thought on seeing it was, will each of the points where it is fixed to the wall develop a water stain below? This was followed by the thought that the painters will really struggle when it needs painting again. I've commented elsewhere on this blog about the unforeseen consequences of decorative treatments on new architecture. Perhaps an algorithm could be built into architectural software that would identify locations with the potential to develop stains. Perhaps it already exists.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Elevation Detail, Newington Court, Stoke Newington, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 39mm (78mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
decorations,
London,
modern,
novelty,
Stoke Newington
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Lighting the diagrid roof
click photo to enlarge
One the many areas in which architecture progressed in the twentieth century, and continues to do so in the twenty-first, is lighting. Architects have always built with an eye to light - either the sun to model the building and its details, or artificial light from flame or electricity to illuminate and give atmosphere in the darkness. New technology such as neon, fluorescent tubes, lasers, LEDs etc have widened the role of lighting and today it fulfils all its original roles and some newer ones too. Here are two examples of cinemas using lighting, one in a traditional way, the other in a much more modern manner.
Today's photograph of the evening lighting of the interior of King's Cross railway station's diagrid roof (see the previous post) is nothing too innovative, but is very effective.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Lighting of Diagrid Roof, King's Cross, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 42mm (84mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.4
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
One the many areas in which architecture progressed in the twentieth century, and continues to do so in the twenty-first, is lighting. Architects have always built with an eye to light - either the sun to model the building and its details, or artificial light from flame or electricity to illuminate and give atmosphere in the darkness. New technology such as neon, fluorescent tubes, lasers, LEDs etc have widened the role of lighting and today it fulfils all its original roles and some newer ones too. Here are two examples of cinemas using lighting, one in a traditional way, the other in a much more modern manner.
Today's photograph of the evening lighting of the interior of King's Cross railway station's diagrid roof (see the previous post) is nothing too innovative, but is very effective.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Lighting of Diagrid Roof, King's Cross, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 42mm (84mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.4
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
diagrid,
King's Cross,
lighting,
London,
railway station,
roof
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Diagrid roof, King's Cross, London
click photo to enlarge
The new Western Concourse at King's Cross railway station in London has a striking diagrid roof.It was designed by the architects, John McAsland and Partners in association with the engineers, Arup. The word diagrid comes from "diagonal grid" and describes a construction method that uses diagonal components very efficiently and economically - steel wall supports and roofs can be constructed that use twenty per cent less materials than would a more conventional steel frame.
The Russian engineer/designer/architect, Vladimir Shukhov (1853-1939, who built in the Constructivist style, is credited with the invention of this method of building. Examples can be seen in most major cities today. In London the "Gherkin" (30 St Mary Axe) and the Queen Elizabeth II Great Court at the British Museum feature the system.
Today's photograph was taken in an attempt to improve on an earlier photograph that I took of the King's Cross roof. On this occasion I used a wide angle lens rather than a fish-eye, but stayed with black and white rather than colour.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Diagrid Roof, King's Cross, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
The new Western Concourse at King's Cross railway station in London has a striking diagrid roof.It was designed by the architects, John McAsland and Partners in association with the engineers, Arup. The word diagrid comes from "diagonal grid" and describes a construction method that uses diagonal components very efficiently and economically - steel wall supports and roofs can be constructed that use twenty per cent less materials than would a more conventional steel frame.
The Russian engineer/designer/architect, Vladimir Shukhov (1853-1939, who built in the Constructivist style, is credited with the invention of this method of building. Examples can be seen in most major cities today. In London the "Gherkin" (30 St Mary Axe) and the Queen Elizabeth II Great Court at the British Museum feature the system.
Today's photograph was taken in an attempt to improve on an earlier photograph that I took of the King's Cross roof. On this occasion I used a wide angle lens rather than a fish-eye, but stayed with black and white rather than colour.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Diagrid Roof, King's Cross, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
diagrid,
engineering,
King's Cross,
railway station,
roof
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Reflecting on stainless steel
click photo to enlarge
No buildings last forever, though some such as Stonehenge, the Sumerian ziggurats, the Pyramids, and the temples of ancient Greece are probably enduring for longer than their builders imagined. There are a number of features that help to make a building last a long time including peace, reverence for the past, and the materials of which it is constructed. War destroys buildings more effectively than anything else, though in Britain the cultural vandalism of national and local politicians in the name of "improvement" runs it a close second. Understanding the importance of the past results in selected old buildings having a long life, though which are chosen for life-support is somewhat arbitrary, and varies with the period in time.
Building materials used to be more important than they are today when buildings are often expected to stand for less than a century, and sometimes only a few decades. Consequently the materials chosen are frequently transient, and where they have the capacity to be long-lived they frequently don't fulfil their potential. In recent years I have despaired of the fashion in Britain for hardwood cladding, a finish that stains badly and warps in our damp climate, that will rot and rarely looks well on a city building. Stainless steel, a material that should last a long time, is one that I have increasing doubts about. It initially looks sleek but requires cleaning because, despite its name it does mark and stain, and isn't always cleaned as often as is required. The Lloyds building in the City of London was completed thirty years ago and still looks fine due to regular maintenance, but it gets much of its force from its complex shape. Will 5 Broadgate (above), a new London building that gets a lot of its power from its contrast of flawless surface with sharply drawn lines, as well as its silky sheen, disappoint in thirty, forty or fifty years when it is dull and stained?
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: 5 Broadgate, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
No buildings last forever, though some such as Stonehenge, the Sumerian ziggurats, the Pyramids, and the temples of ancient Greece are probably enduring for longer than their builders imagined. There are a number of features that help to make a building last a long time including peace, reverence for the past, and the materials of which it is constructed. War destroys buildings more effectively than anything else, though in Britain the cultural vandalism of national and local politicians in the name of "improvement" runs it a close second. Understanding the importance of the past results in selected old buildings having a long life, though which are chosen for life-support is somewhat arbitrary, and varies with the period in time.
Building materials used to be more important than they are today when buildings are often expected to stand for less than a century, and sometimes only a few decades. Consequently the materials chosen are frequently transient, and where they have the capacity to be long-lived they frequently don't fulfil their potential. In recent years I have despaired of the fashion in Britain for hardwood cladding, a finish that stains badly and warps in our damp climate, that will rot and rarely looks well on a city building. Stainless steel, a material that should last a long time, is one that I have increasing doubts about. It initially looks sleek but requires cleaning because, despite its name it does mark and stain, and isn't always cleaned as often as is required. The Lloyds building in the City of London was completed thirty years ago and still looks fine due to regular maintenance, but it gets much of its force from its complex shape. Will 5 Broadgate (above), a new London building that gets a lot of its power from its contrast of flawless surface with sharply drawn lines, as well as its silky sheen, disappoint in thirty, forty or fifty years when it is dull and stained?
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: 5 Broadgate, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
5 Broadgate,
architecture,
London,
stainless steel
Sunday, March 06, 2016
Chromorama, 5 Broadgate, London
click photo to enlarge
In a recent post I remarked how architects who build sharp, angular buildings frequently seek the soft, wayward, natural counterpoint of trees and shrubs. The architectural firm of MAKE and its leader Ken Shuttleworth seem of that persuasion. Today's photograph shows the building at 5 Broadgate, London, with its rigidly etched verticals and horizontals broken by the scribble of the branches of a nearby tree.
But this photograph also shows the other accompaniment that is today the de rigeur addition to expensive offices - sculpture. The Broadgate website describes this piece, "Chromorama" by the London-based artist, David Batchelor, as "totemic" - which it isn't. That word means the mark, badge or totem of a tribe, and by extension a group. Unless the brightly coloured matchbox-like shapes (that illuminate at night) represent bundles of money, then I don't see it being totemic. I think they mean "like a totem pole", and certainly that image came to my mind the instant I saw it. As a piece of sculpture I don't care greatly for Chromorama. But, as a loud burst of colour in a space overwhelmingly steel grey with blue glass highlights, it is a welcome presence.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Chromorama, 5 Broadgate, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
In a recent post I remarked how architects who build sharp, angular buildings frequently seek the soft, wayward, natural counterpoint of trees and shrubs. The architectural firm of MAKE and its leader Ken Shuttleworth seem of that persuasion. Today's photograph shows the building at 5 Broadgate, London, with its rigidly etched verticals and horizontals broken by the scribble of the branches of a nearby tree.
But this photograph also shows the other accompaniment that is today the de rigeur addition to expensive offices - sculpture. The Broadgate website describes this piece, "Chromorama" by the London-based artist, David Batchelor, as "totemic" - which it isn't. That word means the mark, badge or totem of a tribe, and by extension a group. Unless the brightly coloured matchbox-like shapes (that illuminate at night) represent bundles of money, then I don't see it being totemic. I think they mean "like a totem pole", and certainly that image came to my mind the instant I saw it. As a piece of sculpture I don't care greatly for Chromorama. But, as a loud burst of colour in a space overwhelmingly steel grey with blue glass highlights, it is a welcome presence.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Chromorama, 5 Broadgate, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
5 Broadgate,
architecture,
Chromorama,
David Batchelor,
London,
offices,
sculpture,
stainless steel
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Workhouse and silos
click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph was taken three years ago. I came across it twice recently - once in a presentation I was giving about architecture and again when I was searching for the original of another photograph. Seeing it once more reminded me how odd it is. It also prompted the thought that it would make a reasonable blog post.
The first oddity in this photograph is the style the architect (a young George Gilbert Scott in 1837) chose for the facade buildings of a workhouse for the poor and homeless. Why, you have to wonder, did he think that the heavily symmetrical, classically-influenced, style of a country house (in miniature with a triumphal arch in the centre) was suitable. On reflection it is, perhaps, better than using a cotton mill as your inspiration as seems to have happened at Southwell. Quite a bit of money was spent on the facade and its administrative rooms and offices. Behind this range were the tall, plain, brick-built dormitories etc of the workhouse inmates. These are long gone, replaced in the most insensitive and peculiar way by this overpowering run of industrial silos - the second oddity in the photograph.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Former Workhouse and Silos, Boston, Lincolnshire
Camera: Canon 5D Mk2
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Today's photograph was taken three years ago. I came across it twice recently - once in a presentation I was giving about architecture and again when I was searching for the original of another photograph. Seeing it once more reminded me how odd it is. It also prompted the thought that it would make a reasonable blog post.
The first oddity in this photograph is the style the architect (a young George Gilbert Scott in 1837) chose for the facade buildings of a workhouse for the poor and homeless. Why, you have to wonder, did he think that the heavily symmetrical, classically-influenced, style of a country house (in miniature with a triumphal arch in the centre) was suitable. On reflection it is, perhaps, better than using a cotton mill as your inspiration as seems to have happened at Southwell. Quite a bit of money was spent on the facade and its administrative rooms and offices. Behind this range were the tall, plain, brick-built dormitories etc of the workhouse inmates. These are long gone, replaced in the most insensitive and peculiar way by this overpowering run of industrial silos - the second oddity in the photograph.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Former Workhouse and Silos, Boston, Lincolnshire
Camera: Canon 5D Mk2
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
black and white,
Boston,
Lincolnshire,
silo,
workhouse
Friday, February 12, 2016
Earworms and couplings
click photo to enlarge
Earworms are terrible things. I mean, of course, the snippet of a tune that keeps playing itself over and over in your head to the point where it drives you to distraction. I recently had the Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen song, "Love and Marriage", on replay in my head. It's a song I positively dislike, one I remember from my early childhood when it was popular through Frank Sinatra's recording. "Love and marriage", Frank repeatedly tells us, "goes together like a horse and carriage", and what's more, "you can't have one without the other." That was never true when the song was current and it's even less so today.
But, it is true that there are many instances where "you can't have one without the other." One example is the coupling of trees and shrubs with twentieth century rectilinear architecture. Architects' drawings and builders constructions alike are incomplete without the waywardness of branches and leaves as a counterpoint to the rigid verticals and horizontals of windows, doors, roof lines, storey separators etc. I took today's photograph in the city of Peterborough. The exterior of these offices consists of the same concrete panel with its centrally placed window repeated across every facade. Nearby, to offer contrast and soften the hard lines, are large trees. So, I decided to co-operate with the architects and incorporate the two in my photographic composition.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Concrete Offices and Branches, Peterborough
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (160mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Earworms are terrible things. I mean, of course, the snippet of a tune that keeps playing itself over and over in your head to the point where it drives you to distraction. I recently had the Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen song, "Love and Marriage", on replay in my head. It's a song I positively dislike, one I remember from my early childhood when it was popular through Frank Sinatra's recording. "Love and marriage", Frank repeatedly tells us, "goes together like a horse and carriage", and what's more, "you can't have one without the other." That was never true when the song was current and it's even less so today.
But, it is true that there are many instances where "you can't have one without the other." One example is the coupling of trees and shrubs with twentieth century rectilinear architecture. Architects' drawings and builders constructions alike are incomplete without the waywardness of branches and leaves as a counterpoint to the rigid verticals and horizontals of windows, doors, roof lines, storey separators etc. I took today's photograph in the city of Peterborough. The exterior of these offices consists of the same concrete panel with its centrally placed window repeated across every facade. Nearby, to offer contrast and soften the hard lines, are large trees. So, I decided to co-operate with the architects and incorporate the two in my photographic composition.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Concrete Offices and Branches, Peterborough
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (160mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
black and white,
branches,
concrete,
offices,
Peterborough
Tuesday, December 08, 2015
Fisheye King's Cross
click photo to enlarge
In the 1970s and up to the mid-1980s we travelled from our home to London fairly regularly. Living on the east side of the country we were able to make use of the East Coast mainline. Consequently our London terminus station was King's Cross. The main buildings at this station were designed by Lewis Cubitt and are a marvel of direct, honest, Victorian brick work, with the main facade expressing the interior in much the way that the west facade of a cathedral tells you what to expect inside. Over the years the various owners and operators of Kings Cross did their best to disfigure the main facade with corporate branding and other excrescences. However, in 2014 the whole station was given a makeover that sympathetically restored the famous face of the building and imaginatively added to the interior.
For many years, when I've needed to visit the capital we've driven there. However, on our most recent visit we decided to go by train. That gave me the two-fold pleasure of seeing something of the refurbishment of King's Cross, because once again we'd be using the East Coast mainline, and also it would give me an opportunity to try out my newly acquired Samyang 7.5mm fisheye lens. I was in two minds about buying this lens. On the one hand I enjoy wide-angle and I quite like the distortion that a fisheye lens can confer on a subjects. But on the other hand I recognise that for many it is a specialist, little used lens and might prove so for me.
My first reasonable effort with the lens is shown above. It doesn't really make use of the lens in the way I ultimately hope to, but it does show something of an area of the station that has been given a glazed roof supported by very striking net-like lattice steel tube.
photograph anf text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.5mm fisheye
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On
In the 1970s and up to the mid-1980s we travelled from our home to London fairly regularly. Living on the east side of the country we were able to make use of the East Coast mainline. Consequently our London terminus station was King's Cross. The main buildings at this station were designed by Lewis Cubitt and are a marvel of direct, honest, Victorian brick work, with the main facade expressing the interior in much the way that the west facade of a cathedral tells you what to expect inside. Over the years the various owners and operators of Kings Cross did their best to disfigure the main facade with corporate branding and other excrescences. However, in 2014 the whole station was given a makeover that sympathetically restored the famous face of the building and imaginatively added to the interior.
For many years, when I've needed to visit the capital we've driven there. However, on our most recent visit we decided to go by train. That gave me the two-fold pleasure of seeing something of the refurbishment of King's Cross, because once again we'd be using the East Coast mainline, and also it would give me an opportunity to try out my newly acquired Samyang 7.5mm fisheye lens. I was in two minds about buying this lens. On the one hand I enjoy wide-angle and I quite like the distortion that a fisheye lens can confer on a subjects. But on the other hand I recognise that for many it is a specialist, little used lens and might prove so for me.
My first reasonable effort with the lens is shown above. It doesn't really make use of the lens in the way I ultimately hope to, but it does show something of an area of the station that has been given a glazed roof supported by very striking net-like lattice steel tube.
photograph anf text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.5mm fisheye
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
black and white,
fisheye lens,
King's Cross,
London,
railway station
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Reality and reflections
click photo to enlarge
No 1 London Bridge is a building that has featured before on this blog - quite early, in 2006, and a little later in 2008. On both occasions it was a detail that I posted rather than the whole building of the monolithic office block. One day I may post a shot of it in its entirety but it won't be for any qualities that I especially admire so much as its prominent position and unusual structure.
This building has always seemed to me to be an "eyecatcher" design - a hollowed out block with a supporting "leg" whose design is primarily intended to be noticed. And in that respect it works. You can't miss it, despite the subdued, glossy, brown marble cladding and reflective glass. A quality the building possesses that I do admire is the way the reflective surfaces work together to impart complexity and confusion. Sometimes, only by looking very carefully can you discern what is real and what is reflected, especially in a photograph. Today's shot was grabbed as we passed by on a recent brief visit to the capital, and is one of the few that I have taken of the building at night.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/40 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
No 1 London Bridge is a building that has featured before on this blog - quite early, in 2006, and a little later in 2008. On both occasions it was a detail that I posted rather than the whole building of the monolithic office block. One day I may post a shot of it in its entirety but it won't be for any qualities that I especially admire so much as its prominent position and unusual structure.
This building has always seemed to me to be an "eyecatcher" design - a hollowed out block with a supporting "leg" whose design is primarily intended to be noticed. And in that respect it works. You can't miss it, despite the subdued, glossy, brown marble cladding and reflective glass. A quality the building possesses that I do admire is the way the reflective surfaces work together to impart complexity and confusion. Sometimes, only by looking very carefully can you discern what is real and what is reflected, especially in a photograph. Today's shot was grabbed as we passed by on a recent brief visit to the capital, and is one of the few that I have taken of the building at night.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/40 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
London,
night,
No 1 London Bridge,
offices,
reflections
Saturday, November 14, 2015
New among the old, Lisbon
click photo to enlarge
Looking out recently across the rooftops of an old part of Lisbon, from a vantage on the Castelo de Sao Jorge, I reflected on the old, the new "old" and the new that was laid out before me. The tightly packed streets were hundreds of years old as were many of the houses that were still inhabited. Stone, render and tiles (called in England "Roman" style) were the main materials on display. A lot of money and effort had gone into keeping the buildings in good repair, and the owners, like owners across Europe, had adopted one of three approaches to their restoration work.
Some had used old materials (where possible) and kept the building looking as it had done for a long time i.e. they ensured it was and looked old. Others had used obviously new materials but the extensions and refurbishments were in the style of the old buildings of the locality: they were new "old". But one owner had decided that a new style would be used for a new extension and had built something determinedly modern. When I saw it I thought, "Well done!". I have no objection to conserving old areas, but I think there are places where a sympathetic new building can complement old buildings and offer insight and interest. I also think there is sometimes a place for a new building among old buildings, one that loudly proclaims itself and fits in with its surroundings in ways that are not always obvious.
The modest blue, yellow and red building does, I think, do the latter. Its colour and materials make it appear radically different from its surroundings, but everything else makes it sympathetic to the location - its size, openings, roof lines, even angles; as well as the fact that it is unseen to all except the immediate neighbours and viewers on the castle ramparts!
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (52mm - 104mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Looking out recently across the rooftops of an old part of Lisbon, from a vantage on the Castelo de Sao Jorge, I reflected on the old, the new "old" and the new that was laid out before me. The tightly packed streets were hundreds of years old as were many of the houses that were still inhabited. Stone, render and tiles (called in England "Roman" style) were the main materials on display. A lot of money and effort had gone into keeping the buildings in good repair, and the owners, like owners across Europe, had adopted one of three approaches to their restoration work.
Some had used old materials (where possible) and kept the building looking as it had done for a long time i.e. they ensured it was and looked old. Others had used obviously new materials but the extensions and refurbishments were in the style of the old buildings of the locality: they were new "old". But one owner had decided that a new style would be used for a new extension and had built something determinedly modern. When I saw it I thought, "Well done!". I have no objection to conserving old areas, but I think there are places where a sympathetic new building can complement old buildings and offer insight and interest. I also think there is sometimes a place for a new building among old buildings, one that loudly proclaims itself and fits in with its surroundings in ways that are not always obvious.
The modest blue, yellow and red building does, I think, do the latter. Its colour and materials make it appear radically different from its surroundings, but everything else makes it sympathetic to the location - its size, openings, roof lines, even angles; as well as the fact that it is unseen to all except the immediate neighbours and viewers on the castle ramparts!
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (52mm - 104mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
Lisbon,
modern,
Portugal,
roof
Wednesday, November 04, 2015
Vodafone Offices, Lisbon
click photo to enlarge
Sometimes you don't really see and understand something until you've photographed it. I find this is particularly true of buildings. Take today's photograph. I took several photographs of the Vodafone Corporate Headquarters in Lisbon, Portugal, recently. I liked the blocky surface that the architects, Arquitectos Associdos, specified for some of the elevations.
On first looking at it the wall covering appears to be completely random, but close study of the photograph shows this not to be the case. There are three horizontal bands of blocks with a pattern that repeats. Each group of three bands is separated from the next by a band of windows. It is here that the random element is introduced because the shutters are flat projections when light is being admitted but fold out then into a flat position when deployed. Since each window's shutter is operated separately the surface of the elevation is randomised by the people working behind each one. It is unusual, visually interesting and, I imagine, works well in controlling the light and the heat generated by solar gain.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Sometimes you don't really see and understand something until you've photographed it. I find this is particularly true of buildings. Take today's photograph. I took several photographs of the Vodafone Corporate Headquarters in Lisbon, Portugal, recently. I liked the blocky surface that the architects, Arquitectos Associdos, specified for some of the elevations.
On first looking at it the wall covering appears to be completely random, but close study of the photograph shows this not to be the case. There are three horizontal bands of blocks with a pattern that repeats. Each group of three bands is separated from the next by a band of windows. It is here that the random element is introduced because the shutters are flat projections when light is being admitted but fold out then into a flat position when deployed. Since each window's shutter is operated separately the surface of the elevation is randomised by the people working behind each one. It is unusual, visually interesting and, I imagine, works well in controlling the light and the heat generated by solar gain.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
Lisbon,
offices,
Portugal,
Vodafone
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Scaffolding
click photo to enlarge
The first photograph I ever took of scaffolding is probably the best I've taken of this subject. It appears on PhotoQuoto, a minimalist blog that I started when paid work got a bit too hectic for the fuller posts of PhotoReflect. It shows workmen maintaining a roller-coaster ride in the Lancashire resort of Blackpool.
Ever since that time I've looked out for more examples of this subject and you might wonder why. The fact is, I like the way that the apparently haphazard (though actually carefully and rationally constructed) tracery of steelwork transforms a building. I particularly like it when the complication of lines is doubled by shadows produced by the sun - it sometimes looks like angular scribble laid across the building's surface.
The example in today's photograph shows scaffolding on the main elevation of the old Court House in Horncastle, Lincolnshire. This building has, for many years, been used as offices for various local authority organisations. I read recently that it was scheduled to be turned into flats and perhaps that is the reason for the scaffolding in my photograph. It's good that this prominent building built in 1865 by C. Reeves in the Italianate style, will continue to serve the town.
I converted the colour photograph to black and white and increased the contrast to emphasise the lines of the both the scaffolding and the building.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0
Image Stabilisation: On
The first photograph I ever took of scaffolding is probably the best I've taken of this subject. It appears on PhotoQuoto, a minimalist blog that I started when paid work got a bit too hectic for the fuller posts of PhotoReflect. It shows workmen maintaining a roller-coaster ride in the Lancashire resort of Blackpool.
Ever since that time I've looked out for more examples of this subject and you might wonder why. The fact is, I like the way that the apparently haphazard (though actually carefully and rationally constructed) tracery of steelwork transforms a building. I particularly like it when the complication of lines is doubled by shadows produced by the sun - it sometimes looks like angular scribble laid across the building's surface.
The example in today's photograph shows scaffolding on the main elevation of the old Court House in Horncastle, Lincolnshire. This building has, for many years, been used as offices for various local authority organisations. I read recently that it was scheduled to be turned into flats and perhaps that is the reason for the scaffolding in my photograph. It's good that this prominent building built in 1865 by C. Reeves in the Italianate style, will continue to serve the town.
I converted the colour photograph to black and white and increased the contrast to emphasise the lines of the both the scaffolding and the building.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
architecture,
black and white,
Horncastle,
Lincolnshire,
scaffolding
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