La Giralda

click photo to enlarge
The tower of Seville Cathedral, La Giralda, is with the Patio de los Naranjos (a cathedral quadrangle with orange trees), the principal remains of the Moorish mosque that was built in the late 1100s. From the early 700s to the early 1200s the southern and central Iberian peninsula were controlled by the Moors. Most was reconquered at the end of that period though Granada remained Moorish until 1492.

The tower of La Giralda was built in the 1190s as a minaret. The tower with its Moorish arches and latticework decoration that stretches from ground level to the bell stage is all of this period. It originally was topped by a recessed domed tower. In 1401 much of the mosque was demolished and the building of the cathedral commenced. Various different tower tops were tried but in 1568 the present classical arrangement was chosen. Classical balusters were also installed to embellish the Moorish openings lower down the tower. Interestingly when you climb La Giralda it is not up steps. Instead ramp after ramp takes you to the level of the bells where fine views over the city can be enjoyed.

Seville is a city with many fine, ornate street lights, particularly in the old town. For my photograph of La Giralda I stood near one of these and composed a shot that included the pair. The different temperature and technology of the lighting in tower and lights produces different colours on the stonework. The smaller photograph shows the cathedral tower framed by one of the old town's narrow streets, Calle Mateos Gago. As ever photographs at night always seem to work better if a little of the day's light remains in the sky. Incidentally, what looks like water on the cobbles of the street is in fact nothing more than the shine produced by the feet and wheels of countless people and vehicles.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: La Giralda, Seville
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 25mm (50mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:800
Exposure Compensation: 0EV

Worcester Regiment Colours

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The original purpose of regimental "colours" or flags was to indicate the rallying points of troops on the battlefield. The loss of the colours was an actual and symbolic loss for a regiment because it was frequently a mark of failure. Fighting in their vicinity often proved to be the most fierce as the enemy sought to secure them and their owners fought to prevent their capture. The tradition of embellishing basic flags with labels naming specific campaigns engaged in by the regiment is a post-medieval phenomenon, and anyone visiting a British cathedral is likely to come upon such colours in one of its many chapels.

Worcester Cathedral's St George's Chapel, not unnaturally, holds a collection of the colours of battalions of the Worcester Regiment. In 1970 it was was amalgamated with the Sherwood Foresters and ceased to be a distinct regiment. The chapel at the cathedral holds flags that date back to the nineteenth century, as well as those from the First and Second World Wars. Light and time inevitably take their toll on the material of the flags and the examples shown in today's photograph are typically discoloured and threadbare, qualities that help the viewer to better understand the passage of time since they were carried into battle.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.3mm (52mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/13
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Worcester Cathedral, tripods and good enough

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I've photographed in churches for forty years or so. I began with an SLR, a rangefinder camera, a variety of films and a tripod. Today I'm shooting with a couple of DSLRs, a compact camera and I rarely use a tripod. What liberation the higher ISOs and image stabilisation of today's cameras have conferred on the photographer! Not only are you less burdened by the weight of a tripod, you get in people's way much less. Moreover, in locations such as the cathedral shown in today's photograph, you don't get someone asking if your photographs are for commercial purposes.

In the minds of many the equation "tripod = professional photography" still exists. And, while it's true that many people who actively and purposely seek to produce saleable pictures do use a tripod to get the sharpest image and the required depth of field, there are many instances where that goal can be achieved with a hand-held shot. However, the interior of a cathedral during the late afternoon of a dark day at the end of November isn't one of them. To get a sharp shot with a decent depth of field a tripod is a great help. But, if, as here, you are looking for a "good enough" image, then a wide aperture, a higher ISO and image stabilisation can produce the goods. What appealed to me about this shot was the contrast between the areas of dark and light, and the different colours that the incandescent, fluorescent, LED and natural lighting added to the scene.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 640
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Ely Cathedral

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The exterior of Ely Cathedral looks its best, in my opinion, from a distance of several miles as it rises above the small city on a low eminence in the flat Fenland landscape. To someone who is familiar with English cathedrals the exterior of Ely is a decided oddity, and the closer you get to it the odder it looks. A prominent west tower is common in a parish church but rare in a great church such as a cathedral, minster or abbey where the crossing tower usually dominates. The emphasis on embattled turrets rather than pinnacles is even rarer, suggesting a secular castle rather than a religious building. Ely didn't always look like it does today however. It too, like cathedrals across the land, once had a central crossing tower. But, in February 1322, the great Norman structure collapsed, probably due to the inadequacy of its foundations. In its place an octagonal lantern was erected, supported on stone, but constructed of oak, the whole structure making a bristling tower lower than the west tower and very different from the soaring culminations found elsewhere.

You may gather from this that I find the exterior of Ely lacking compared with say,York, Lincoln, Durham, Salisbury or, in fact, most other cathedrals. I do. That's not to say that it lacks interest, but for me the overall form of the building doesn't match the beauty of other major cathedrals. However, the collapse that led to the construction of the octagon produced on the interior one of the finest sights that any English cathedral can offer, one that brings distinction to the building and makes it a place worth going out of your way to see.

Today's main photograph and one of the secondary images show what your eyes behold when you pause below Ely's crossing and look up. At the top left is the painted roof of the very long Norman nave. Opposite, at the bottom right is the elaborate Gothic vaulting of the nave. The other two roofs cover the transepts. Windows fill the spaces between the eight stone piers and from the top of each of the latter spreads a fan of ribs that reach to each of the bottom edges of the octagon itself. This is painted with a ring of angels, has stellar vaulting with Christ on the centre, and the whole is ringed with stained glass that lights the space.

We made the journey to Ely on the back of a weather forecast that promised sun and cloud. The drab photograph of the west tower shows how accurate that was!

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 2500
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation:N/A

Look up, but look down too

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It's a natural reaction, when approaching a medieval cathedral, minster or abbey, to look up. The architecture, indeed the main premise of such a building is to inspire that reaction in people: to make the passer-by admire the soaring towers, the pinnacles, the buttresses etc but, more importantly, to gaze heavenward. Identical intentions attach to the interior of these great churches, though here the iconography is more explicit and a visitor can be in no doubt of the message that is being broadcast.

In truth there are precious few surfaces of a cathedral that are not enlisted in the proclamation of the faith. From the "unnecessarily" ornate carving of capitals, windows, roof bosses etc, the celebration of Biblical figures in carving, stained glass and other materials and the heavy use of symbolism, to the beautiful carved and painted scripts that proclaim their messages, the building is a vehicle for the religion that erected it.

But, whilst it is natural to look up in a church, fewer people look down at the floor beneath their feet. Yet here too beauty and the message can be found. Some of our churches still have the original stone paving that replaced the rushes and compressed earth of the first religious buildings. Others retain medieval tiles impressed with geometric shapes, foliate crosses, leaves and other patterns, including the elaborate letter "M" signifying Mary or Madonna. Marble paving of the eighteenth century can also be seen: I posted a photograph of a trompe l'oeil example in the choir of Beverley Minster, East Yorkshire, earlier this year. The great restorations of the nineteenth century have left a wonderful legacy of floor tiles. Many of these take their lead from the medieval styles and colours but original designs abound too. This photograph of the area around the font of the church at Swineshead, Lincolnshire, shows very characteristic Victorian tilework. And then there are examples that are difficult to date because stylistic clues are few.

Today's photograph is such a tile scheme, also at Beverley Minster. Is it eighteenth or nineteenth century, or does it date from some time in the twentieth? Whenever it was made it works well. The eight pointed star is centred under the crossing tower, and the complexity of the pattern lessens as it spreads into the transepts. The design is strong, with contrast, but the colours are relatively muted, and it works with the surroundings. My photograph shows visitors in characteristic pose, faces turned upwards to the glories overhead. I wonder if they also looked down at the lesser, but also interesting, beauties beneath their feet.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 29mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/25
ISO: 1600
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0
Image Stabilisation: On

Cathedrals old and new

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There have been only three*(see below) completely new Anglican Cathedrals built in England since the Reformation of the sixteenth century - St Paul's in London, Truro and Liverpool. All the others were either built in earlier centuries, are former parish churches raised to cathedral status, for example Blackburn, or, as in the case of Coventry, are substantially new but replace and adjoin a medieval building that was severely damaged. One thing that distinguishes the newer cathedrals from the ancient buildings is the shorter period of time over which they were constructed, and the consequently smaller range of building styles that the structure shows.

St Paul's is, of course, a Renaissance building in almost every respect except its floor plan which was modified to more closely match those of medieval cathedrals. Wren was given the project in 1669, the first services took place inside the cathedral in 1697, and it was officially opened and declared complete in 1711, a mere forty two years later. Truro is a Victorian Gothic Revival cathedral, considerably smaller than St Paul's, and the work of John Loughborough Pearson. Building began in 1880, it was consecrated in 1887, and work was completed in 1910 - only thirty years later. Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral is the biggest cathedral in Britain and one of the largest in the world. Not surprisingly it took longer to build than St Paul's and Truro. In 1903 Giles Gilbert Scott's Gothic design was chosen from over one hundred competition entries, and the foundation stone was laid in 1904. Despite significant changes to the design it was consecrated in 1924, regular services began in 1940 and the central tower was completed in 1942. The Second World War slowed building progess, but the cathedral was finally finished in 1978, eighteen years after the death of its architect.

Of course all cathedrals are added to in some way as succeeding generations make their mark on the structure. For example, Truro had a chapter house added in 1967. But the point of today's reflection is the great difference in the construction time and styles of newer cathedrals compared with their medieval predecessors. Today's photograph shows some of the Norman (Romanesque) style at Peterborough Cathedral. It dates from the twelfth century when much of the main structure was built. However, most cathedrals of this sort were being added to, modified, brought "up to date", and generally knocked about by builders, bishops and others for 500 years or more. One consequence of this is the succession of architectural styles (fashions if you will) that exemplify this work - including the relatively heavy, crude and utilitarian of the Norman quadripartite vaulting shown above to the delicate Perpendicular style fan vaulting of the 1500s shown in this earlier post.

* 23/02/2010 18.27pm
As I washed the dishes after our evening meal a thought came to me - "What about Guildford Cathedral?" This is a building I've never visited but which I know from photographs to be modern. A bit of research showed that it was begun in 1936 and completed in 1961. So, for three above, read four. In fact, any advance on four?

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 60mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Gallery-going

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Anyone interested in art loves to visit an art gallery. The big London galleries, like Tate Britain, with its Turners, or the National with exceptional pieces from every age, can supply a week's worth of viewing pleasure. But therein lies the problem. A visit to a big gallery can cause visual indigestion! In many respects the smaller, regional galleries, provide a more manageable viewing experience - a limited number of paintings, with a bit of specialism, often around less well-known artists.

Over the years I've visited many galleries in "the provinces". Those that stick in my mind are the Lady Lever Art Gallery at Port Sunlight, with its Pre-Raphaelite collection, the Leeds City Gallery where I enjoyed the Atkinson Grimshaws, the Walker Gallery in Liverpool with some exceptional paintings from the first half of the C20, and the Ferens Art Gallery in Hull, with the marine paintings of John Ward. The other day I visited the Usher Art Gallery in Lincoln. It has collections of paintings by two Lincoln born artists, William Hilton (1786-1839) who has a number of views of the city, and William Logsdail (1859-1944) who is represented by some views of Venice. With the exception of an animal picture by George Stubbs, the best known paintings are by the the Staffordshire-born Peter de Wint (1784-1849). An artist much admired by Ruskin, de Wint visited Lincoln often because is wife came from the city. He painted a number of scenes that include the cathedral. Though none of the three artists are considered among the front rank of British painters, the collection shows that all were capable of high quality.

It may be because of the time I'd spent time looking at the works of these artists, that when I came to process this image of the cathedral seen from the south, I ended up with a photograph that has some of the qualities of a painting! Perhaps it's the darkness of the image that suggests this, or maybe it's the composition, or perhaps the colour and texture of the sky. Whatever the reason, the image was more heavily processed than most of my work, and it turned out like this. I'm not unhappy with the outcome!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 96mm (192mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Octagon

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The classic English cathedral differs from its continental counterparts in a number of ways. Firstly, it usually has a square east end rather than an apse with chapels. Secondly, in profile, seen from a distance, there is less emphasis on verticality and more on horizontality. Thirdly, inside the nave and chancel the upward thrust of columns, arches and vaulting is more heavily broken by horizontal features. And fourthly, the buildings, by and large, have two west towers and a larger crossing tower. So, typical English cathedrals look like York, Durham, Lincoln or Lichfield, though some dispense with west towers entirely, and a few, like Westminster Abbey, have a very French look. However, one English cathedral doesn't fit into any of these descriptions very well at all - in fact it's a real oddity - and that is Ely.

Like some German cathedrals, Ely has a single west tower, but without the expected spire. Instead it has a castle-like top of embattled turrets. A heavy stone crossing tower is absent, and is replaced by an octagonal structure with a wooden corona (the Octagon) of the oddest profile, that appears to strive for width rather than height. The building's profile from some angles is quite military, and from others, veritably craggy. That Ely was largely complete by 1350 makes all this even odder. In fact it's hard to describe the exterior of Ely as beautiful, though it is undeniably interesting. However, the interior is absolutely wonderful - featuring a massive Norman nave and the underside of that corona.

My photograph was taken during a family visit in winter. I had no tripod, only one lens, and less time than usual to compose my image. So, I was glad for the in-body Image Stabilisation of the camera. That innovation, combined with my body braced against a wall, high ISO, and a wide aperture, allowed me to get this fairly sharp shot of the underside of the Octagon.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/6
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation: -1.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On