Good enough is fine by me

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In 2010 I posted a piece called "Enthusiast photographers and camera angst" wherein I said that most DSLRs since the time resolution reached 8MP are good enough for most keen photographers. I referred to Alamy's recommended camera list (here is the current one), to show that this is the case. My view on that hasn't changed. That being so you may be wondering why I changed my camera system. Well, it wasn't because I believed the new system would deliver better photographs, or that I sought features that Canon's 35mm sized sensor and lenses didn't offer. It was basically down to size and weight - Micro Four Thirds is simply easier to carry and therefore more likely to be available to me when I'm out and about. And the fact is, that in terms of detail, there is no discernible difference in until I begin to print at sizes that I've never printed at - ever!

On a recent visit to Peterborough Cathedral I thought I'd try a hand-held shot of the crossing using the 9-18mm wide-angle zoom set at an aperture that would ensure close to maximum sharpness and 6400 ISO, the level I have set as the maximum I want from the camera (higher numbers are available). I'm not displeased with the outcome. I could have halved, possibly quartered the ISO and still hand-held the shot to increase the quality, but the outcome with the settings I chose would, I'm sure produce an A4 print that would satisfy me, and a little work may well give a reasonable result at A3. The image above is slightly cropped and rotated because I didn't get everything quite square.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Odeon's classical origins

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Cycling along the promenade at Great Yarmouth, Norfolk, a few years ago, I passed a building called the Hippodrome. I assumed it was a theatre of the early 1900s, but I was wrong. It was built in 1903, but as the permanent home of a circus. Today it is used in a way much more akin to a traditional theatre featuring shows, etc as well as a circus. The theatre was reasonably well-named because the original hippodromes were ancient Greek stadia for horse and chariot racing, a building type adopted by the Romans who extended their use (as circuses) to animal spectaculars, historic re-enactments etc. The British and American hippodrome theatres of the early 1900s also featured animal spectaculars but eventually became theatres for variety artistes, and after their day passed, the buildings often served as cinemas.

Cinemas themselves sometimes adopted classical names too. In London and Dublin there are Adelphi cinemas: Adelphi is Greek for "brothers". However, the most commonly found classically-inspired cinema name is undoubtedly the Odeon. The original buildings of this name were found in Athens, Sparta and other ancient Greek city states. Their purpose was to accommodate musical competitions, poetry readings and the like. In the late eighteenth century the name was resurrected for a famous Parisian theatre where, in 1784, the play, "The Marriage of Figaro" was premiered. When cinema came along Odeon was frequently the name of choice in Europe and the United States. Today it is so closely associated with the movies that its origins in antiquity are all but forgotten.

Today's semi-abstract photograph shows a detail of the foyer ceiling of Lincoln's modern Odeon cinema, a building of the twenty first century. With its swooping curves and blue neon tube detailing the ceiling seeks to combine with shiny stainless steel detailing and glossy escalators to inject glamour into the cinema-going experience.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm (45mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO:500
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting on lampshades

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I've never found pendant lampshades easy. Many of them seem to be good at lighting the room but look awful, while the rest of them look fine but leave the room dimly lit. I particularly dislike those that look like the shade you'd find on a standard lamp that are designed for a pendant; they look terrible from below, all wire supports and bare bulbs. Then there are the translucent glass or plastic variety, all modernistic swirls and curls that try to be "artistic" at the expense of being functional. And as for the many contemporary takes on the chandelier, well, most of those look like they need their own power station to keep them lit, such is the number and brightness of the bulbs required.

You might think, with thoughts like those, that we have naked light bulbs hanging from the ceilings in the rooms of our house. But no, fairly early in our married life we found a design of pendant lampshade that suits us just fine. It combines simple elegance with the ability to cast light effectively and is inexpensive. More than that, however, it can composted at the end of its useful life! I refer to the plain white paper and wood (or string) globes that are sold packed flat and which are opened into a sphere before being placed around the light bulb. They first came to prominence in the 1960s and 1970s and have remained on the market ever since. I know that some people think of them as hopelessly dated, but we see a minimalist beauty where others see echoes of Habitat and the 1970s.

From that you'll gather that the photograph of today's light was not taken in our house. In fact, it featured on the ceiling of somewhere that we stayed recently. It's not to my taste: far too fussy and exotic for me. But I did like the way it made light rays radiate across the ceiling, and for that it seemed worth a photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 500
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Artist and photography

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On a misty, dull day we headed off for Spalding's civic building called the South Holland Centre. It houses, among other things, an auditorium where live performances and a cinema programme take place. The object of our visit was to see "The Artist", the recent film that is notable for being "silent" and shot in black and white. The fact that it has been garlanded with awards, particularly Oscars, would ordinarily be a reason for either avoiding a film or being wary of it: such things (especially Oscars) are too often conferred on routine rubbish, works that after a few years are forgotten or, at best, become noteworthy for the incredulity that they provoke when it is pointed out they were winners of the coveted award.

"The Artist" is, happily, an exception that proves the rule. In fact, it is a wonderful film, and my thought as I left the cinema was, "I'd like to see that again". Excellent acting, a more complex plot than we'd anticipated, great music, humour, and wonderful photography make it a memorable film. A while ago I wrote a blog piece about how one might convince a doubter of the value of black and white photography. In it I said my first argument would not be the recognised still practitioners but rather the 1946 movie of Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations", a work that won two Oscars for best Art Direction and Best Cinematography. To that I now have to add, "The Artist". Any still photographer looking for great black and white work need look no further than some of the many set-piece shots in this film. I'll mention only one that appealed to me that features the main character drinking too much. We see him and his reflection in the table top, slowly rotating due to camera movement. On to the mirror-like surface he pours the contents of his glass. It is a simple but stunning conception, beautifully executed. If you haven't seen the film, or doubt whether you'd like it, go and see it. I think you'll be glad you did.

I took today's semi-abstract photograph in the cafe as we had a bite to eat before the film. It shows the room's painted concrete columns and concrete ceiling with its decorative circles, coffering and lights. Black and white suits the shot better than colour (as I'm sure is the case with "The Artist"). I also softened the image a little. Looking at my photograph on the computer it brought to mind another film that also won an Oscar for Best Cinematography - "Close Encounters of the Third Kind"!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO:80
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Looking up No. 2

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"Looking Up" was the title of a blog post that I made in May 2008 featuring the same subject as today's entry - the underside of the tower, together with the ceilings of the nave, chancel and transepts of Peterborough Cathedral. As part of my workout that aims to make me familiar with my new camera's strengths, weaknesses and peculiarities, I've been photographing a range of subjects, some that I've shot before, using different lenses, apertures, shutter speeds, ISOs and EV settings. This shot is with my unstabilized 17-40mm lens, and the shutter speed of 1/10 second is about the limit of what I can successfully hand-hold. Viewed at 100% this shot is pretty sharp. Of course, the ISO of 3200 is what makes the image possible. You might wonder why I didn't open the lens up, but I find that some corner softness appears at its maximum of f4. This isn't too much of a problem with, say, a landscape, but with the straight, sharp lines of architecture - even the several hundred years old variety - it can be noticeable.

The centre of today's image shows the timber lierne vault on the underside of the central (crossing) tower of the cathedral. The other ceilings are also timber. This is not unusual with the wide spans of a Romanesque building of the twelfth century. The ability to throw stone vaulting over such a distance hadn't been developed at that time, though it was used in the narrow aisles here. The hierarchy of decoration that can be seen in the four main ceilings reflects the relative importance of each  part of the cathedral. Thus, the painted, closely coffered ceiling, with decorative bosses, flanked by vaulted coving over the chancel (on the right), that dates from the fifteenth century, emphasises the liturgical centre of the church, the place where the clergy worked, and the location of the high altar. The painted nave roof with its elongated diamonds each with a central figure - kings, queens, saints, fantastic animals etc - dates from about 1220. Pevsner calls it "a precious survival". This is over the part of the church devoted to the laity. The other two ceilings that roof the transepts are also original, and though the wood is again laid in diamonds, it is not painted, and they are definitely subsidiary to the main two.

I often think that photographs of this subject, taken from directly below with symmetry, have something of the look of a kaleidoscope image, and this one is no exception. For more views of vaulting and the underside of towers see these photographs from Louth and Ludlow, Morton, Brant Broughton, Pershore, Boston, Norwich, and Ely.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: 7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/10
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A