Chandeliers, electroliers and names

 click photo to enlarge
On a couple of occasions I've reflected on the way that words pass out of daily use and acquire the status of "archaic" in the dictionary. Today's photograph prompted me to wander down that path again.

I took the shot near the west door of the church of St Wulfram at Grantham, Lincolnshire. The faceted glass or perspex is the top of the new internal porch which, on the dull day of our visit had its light turned on. Above is the Victorian glass of the west window. Appearing to float in the darkness nearby, like a spaceship in Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey", is a ... well, what shall I call it? Like many such examples of branched church lighting this one dates from the early 1800s and started life as a chandelier - a hanging ornamental light fitting that held candles. It would have been lit and replenished by someone standing on steps or by the whole light being lowered using a chain or rope. Both these methods of servicing this kind of light were inconvenient. Consequently it is no surprise that when electricity became widely available churches frequently converted their chandeliers from candles to light bulbs. The flick of a wall switch was much easier than struggling to light 18 or so candles with a flickering taper. But with this change-over came the problem of nomenclature.

The first "chandeliers" that were purposely made for electric light bulbs were named, quite sensibly, "electroliers" (the first instance of use cited in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) is 1882). It was a good marketing tactic and it better described the new take on an old idea. Moreover, the gas versions that preceded them were called "gaseliers". But immediately a problem arose: what do you call an old chandelier that is converted from candles to electric light bulbs? Do you stick with the name that indicates what it was originally or do you use the newfangled "electrolier" to show how progressive you are and to more accurately describe the updated light? There was no great debate on this matter, usage alone determined the course of what happened. The newly made electric chandeliers, for a few decades, often (though not always) were described as electroliers. Conversions generally (though not always) stuck with chandelier. Then, over time, the use of the word electrolier declined and chandelier re-asserted itself to describe the electric versions, which had become the dominant type, as well as those versions continuing to use candles. Today the word "electrolier" is mainly restricted to describing the early "electric chandeliers" that would have had that name applied when they were first made. The OED doesn't yet describe "electrolier" as archaic, but it can only be a matter of time.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 50mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 1250
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Southwark Cathedral chandelier

click photo to enlarge

Lanterns and chandeliers began to appear in churches from around 1600 to augment the candles and small oil lamps that had been used for centuries. The first, quite plain, English chandeliers were soon supplemented by more ornate models imported from Flanders. Drooping arms fixed to rings featured in seventeenth century examples and highly decorated finials were favoured at the top. By the eighteenth century they had become very ornate with scrolls, brass balls and often a flame as a finial, though doves were popular too: opened winged and feathered was the London style, closed winged and smooth if originating in Bristol.

The example shown in today's photograph is suspended under the crossing of Southwark Cathedral in London. It is inscribed, "The gift of Dorothye relict of Jno. Appleby Esqe to ye Parish Church of St Saviour Southwarke 1680" (the parish church of St Saviour was raised to cathedral status in 1905 though before the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1536 it was a priory - hence its large size). The design of this particular chandelier is quite forward looking and from a distance could be mistaken for one of the Georgian examples that are frequently to be seen in English parish churches.

The silhouette of the chandelier presented a fine shape to photograph in front of the illuminated Gothic vaulting of the nave. Anyone who has followed this blog's photography and discussion of vaulting might be forgiven for thinking it to be a fine example of Early English architecture, along with the lancet windows and the nave arcades, triforium and clerestory. However, they are the work of Arthur Blomfield and date from 1890-1897. Though quite a bit of Southwark Cathedral dates from medieval times successive fires have meant much rebuilding down the centuries and a visitor can glean quite a bit of enjoyment from working out what is original and what is later but in the Gothic style.

For a couple more of my photographs of chandeliers see here and here.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 65mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/50
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

In praise of small sensor cameras

click photo to enlarge
Those who use digital SLRs often have no time for small sensor cameras. Not only do they lament the lack of control that compacts offer, they also bemoan their low-light abilities, the image quality and the difficulty in producing out of focus backgrounds - what is today called "bokeh". I use both a DSLR and a compact digital camera, just as for a couple of decades I used a 35mm SLR and a compact rangefinder camera. Why did I then - and why do I now - accept the limitations of a small camera? The answer is simple: convenience, and because usually what it produces is good enough.

Take the LX3 that I use. It has what many see as a woefully short zoom (24mm-60mm in 35mm terms), but that's a range that covers about 80% of my photography. Moreover, the limitation is actually liberating, and interestingly I find myself using 24mm much of the time and ignoring the rest of the zoom. Additionally, with most of my shots I'm aiming to maximise the depth of field, so for me the "disadvantage" of the small sensor becomes an advantage. The maximum aperture of the LX3 is f2. In the days of SLRs that wasn't anything special, with 50mm f1.8 lenses being two a penny, and f1.4 and f1.2 being not too uncommon. Today though, f2 is wider than probably 90% of DSLR lenses. Then there's the image quality, noise, etc. The LX3 output isn't as good as a DSLR: that much is obvious if you view images on screen at 100%. However, that's not the way I look at photographs. At the usual screen size I see no difference, and in prints up to A3+ I struggle to see a difference, so the output, for my purposes, is clearly good enough. Where the LX3 really scores is in its pocketability - it can go everywhere I go with no inconvenience. But there's also the quality of the straight out-of-the-camera JPEGs and the very effective iA (Intelligent Auto) mode. Because it's an enthusiast's compact the user control and the ability to customise the set up are at the level of many DSLRs. All told its a good little camera that is, yes, good enough. Having said that, I couldn't see myself with a wide-angle compact such as this as my only camera: but as camera that is complementary to the DSLR it works well.

Today's shot exemplifies some of its virtues. I set the dial to Intelligent Auto, overrode it only to the extent of dialling in -0.66EV to control the highlights, and, in a church on a dark January day, ended up with this sharp, hand-held image. The background is sufficiently out of focus to emphasise the chandelier above me, but the roof timbers and wooden angels staring down are still discernible, largely because it opened up the lens to the maximum of f2. When I compared this shot to the version I took using Aperture Priority mode it was certainly no worse.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Intelligent Auto
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Self-portrait in chandelier

click photo to enlarge

People don't often feature as the main subject in my photographs. They sometimes creep in for scale, I often include them for visual "weight" in a composition, or I might add someone as a focal point in, say, a landscape. But full-on portraits, human-interest shots, or the many subjects e.g. sport, that feature people strongly, are not for me. It's not that I have anything against people: in fact, some of my best friends are people! But pointing a camera at them just doesn't appeal.

There is one photographic genre where I do make a person the focus of the image, and that is the self-portrait. I like to include one of these in the blog every now and then. However, they're usually not very revealing, are often distorted, and I can seem a bit incidental in some of the compositions. This photograph is a case in point. I was photographing in and around a Lincolnshire church when I noticed an eighteenth century chandelier hanging in the nave. Such objects are reasonably common in English churches. However, this one was hanging a bit lower than usual, and the dedicatory inscription was mainly to the side, so there was a good and clear reflection down the central aisle. Consequently, I pointed my camera at it, smiled (though you wouldn't know it), and took this shot.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On