Recurring photographic subjects

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As the years go by and the photographs accumulate I have become aware that my opus features a number of photographic themes that make regular appearances. There are broad themes such as contre jour shots, boldly asymmetry, deliberate blur and silhouettes. And there are subject themes, for example chairs, church vaulting, flowers and architectural details. Then there are the street lights.

Even before my post of a few days ago of the gull on one of several slender lights at Skegness I was aware that I had a penchant for street lights new and old. As I've been processing the shots from a visit to Seville this predilection has become obvious, and I've already posted two photographs that feature them. Well, here's a shot that features not only street lights but also silhouettes - two recurring themes in one photograph! It was taken on a misty morning as the sun was beginning to burn its way through to yet another deep blue sky. The sun's disc as it briefly revealed itself attracted my attention and I dialled in a little underexposure to emphasise the silhouettes of the ornate street lights, the bell tower, cypress tree and roof top aerials.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Silhouettes - Street Lights etc - Seville
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 39mm (78mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Gedney church door

click photo to enlarge
In my visits to churches I frequently come across woodwork that dates from the medieval period. Most often this is roof timbers or parts of the seating in the chancel or nave, usually the misericords or the bench ends. Also reasonably common are medieval wooden screens, pulpits, chests, and other smaller pieces. Then there are the doors. One can understand the survival of wood that spends its life in the shelter of the church, but this isn't always the case with doors. Frequently they are open to the weather if  not protected by a porch.

On a recent visit to Gedney church in Lincolnshire I photographed the elaborate medieval south door that is inside a porch. This is a remarkable survivor from the Decorated period of English Gothic i.e. the fourteenth century. The arched structure has solid surrounds and four mullions or buttresses that are decorated with pellets rather in the manner of ballflower. The top of the inserted wicket door has four shields and flowers. Above is a broad band that stretches across the door with a beautifully carved inscription, "Pax Christ sit huic domui et omnibus habitantibus in ea hic requies nostra". My nearly non-existent Latin, augmented by Google translates that as, approximately, "The peace of Christ to all who live here and all who are associated with this house". Some of the metalwork clearly is of the same age, particularly that on the inside.

It may be the contemporaneous porch and the protection it offers that is responsible for the well-preserved state of the door. It has suffered somewhat down the centuries but replaced pieces of wood are few, and even the metal supports added at the bottom of the mullions look very old. Interestingly I often find that woodwork such as this offers a more immediate sense of the past than the much more plentiful stone carving.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: C14 Door, Gedney Church, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Castor's church tower

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Castor is a village that has moved about a bit. Not in the physical sense, but rather in terms of the local authority of which it is a part. It was originally in the Soke (or Liberty) of Peterborough, a historic anomaly associated with the city and diocese. Then it became part of Northamptonshire for a while and finally it was subsumed in Cambridgeshire (along with Peterborough). Older citizens of the village can be forgiven for not remembering where they live.

That is not the only interesting feature of the village however. It also has, buried beneath the ground, the remains of a palatial group of Roman buildings. Its church has a dedication unique in England, to St Kyneburgha, the daughter of Penda, King of Mercia (d.664). She is alleged to have built a monastery at Castor. Then there is the church itself, or more specifically its tower. There are many churches of cathedral rank that can boast a tower of the Norman period that is ornately decorated. However, there can be no parish church with a tower so richly embellished. The chevrons, billet, lozenge and fish-scale diaper, corbel table, windows, bell openings and blank arcading all make for a richness that captivates the eye and makes one think anew about the supposedly crude work of the builders and masons of the 1100s.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title:Church Tower, Castor, Cambridgeshire
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 21.8mm (59mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Dark chancels

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I visit a lot of churches and over the years I've come to appreciate dark chancels. You might wonder why since they are clearly harder to photograph than one that is well lit. What I like is the contrast between the better lit nave, and the air of mystery that the subdued lighting gives to the focal point of the church. Fortunately, through most periods of architectural history the builders and furnishers of churches have agreed with me and have generally inserted fewer, smaller windows and have filled them with stained glass. The tendency to insert more memorials, elaborate seating, reredos, organs etc in this, usually, smaller space has deepened the darkness in many buildings. However, broadly speaking, during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the eighteenth century, and the twentieth century more light was allowed to enter the chancel.

In the fifteenth century the fashionable architecture of the time was responsible for light chancels, and frequently there was no dividing arch between and the nave. This example at Skirlaugh in East Yorkshire is a good illustration of what I mean. In the eighteenth century more inclusive worship lightened chancels, and the same trend influenced the twentieth century. But the Gothic Revival in the nineteenth century and the original Gothic of the twelfth to fourteenth centuries usually exhibits dark chancels, as does the earlier Romanesque period where large windows were technically unfeasible.

In my recent visit to St Denys in Sleaford, Lincolnshire, I photographed the chancel to capture the jewel-like appearance that low light usually imparts to the stained glass. Here, even the sunlight streaming in from the south facing windows could not overpower the deep reds and blues of the glass, though I did need some negative EV to better capture what the eye saw.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title:Chancel, St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:3200
Exposure Compensation: -1.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

WW1 floral tribute

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One of the traditions of the Church of England (and some English churches of other denominations) is the church flower festival. This usually takes place in late spring or high summer when flowers are plentiful. The church is filled with flower displays - on window sills, pulpit, font, bench ends, and many other spaces in the nave, chancel and porch. Often a theme is decided and each display is an interpretation of it. Themes I've seen include, hymn titles, saints, London, months and famous people. Much of the pleasure of the viewer comes from seeing the creativity involved in expressing the idea florally. Churches publicise the event, welcome the wider public, and use the event as a pleasurable fund raiser, often putting on refreshments, sales etc to accompany the flowers. Groups of churches frequently co-ordinate their festivals, those in a geographical location choosing the same week so that visitors can make a day of visiting several churches.

On a cycle ride we recently visited Muston church in Leicestershire and came across what I assume was their flower festival based on the theme of the First World War. I say "assume" because in these years in which the centenary of WW1 is remembered some churches are mounting special events, and perhaps it was one of those. Whatever the inspiration, the displays were very good. There were poppies in profusion, of course, but the ideas went wider than that. The example above features barbed wire, crosses and explosions in the form of coloured alliums.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: WW1 Floral Tribute, Muston Church, Leicestershire
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO: 640
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

St Mary, Whaplode, Lincolnshire

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It is customary for English churches to have a bell tower that rises above the top of the nave and chancel roofs. In England it is most commonly found at the west end of the building and connects with the nave, as in this example at Aswarby in Lincolnshire. If it isn't at the west then it is likely to be a crossing tower situated between the chancel and the nave, and often featuring transepts, giving the plan of the church the shape of a Christian cross. A few, often Victorian churches have a bell tower at the east of the building. Where there is no bell tower a low bellcote is usually found on the west end of the nave roof (as at Gosberton Clough, Lincolnshire). This is a short, open tower, only a little bigger than the one or two bells that it shelters under its pitched roof.

However, there is another position for English church towers - detached, or almost detached. Where a tower is completely detached, as at Fleet in Lincolnshire (see small photo) English usage is to refer to it as a campanile. This takes the Italian name for all bell towers and applies it in this particular circumstance. Sometimes the tower is attached by a short corridor, a porch, or some other extension that links it with the main body of the church. That is the case above, in the medieval church at Whaplode in Lincolnshire. Was it once completely detached but subsequently joined to the main building? We don't know, though that is likely to have happened with some "semi-detached" towers.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Mary, Whaplode, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/2500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Old roofs, walls and towers

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One of the charming features of many old Norfolk buildings is a plaintile roof featuring tiles of different colours. Bright orange, brownish orange, grey, black and cream are often placed randomly to give a delightful mottled appearance. The roof in the bottom centre of the photo exemplifies the style perfectly, and the others show it to a greater or lesser extent. Plaintiles are rectangular and flat  and pre-date (though were also contemporaneous with) the equally prevalent "S" curved pantiles. They first became popular in better houses but eventually were a common and sympathetic accompaniment to many vernacular brick walls, such as the kind seen in the lower right of the shot. In the nineteenth century they declined in popularity following widespread adoption of cheaper Welsh slate.

I took today's photograph for the muted colours, the lighting, but most of all for the contrast between the ornate, finely worked stone of the medieval towers of St Margaret's church, with the humble plaintiles and brick of the medieval buildings in the foreground.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Old Roofs, Walls and Towers, King's Lynn, Norfolk
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 67mm (134mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The endangered English church

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The medieval churches of England are an endangered species. Our forebears bequeathed large, beautiful, magnificent and very expensive to maintain buildings upon us, and many parishes are finding the cost to be unaffordable. These churches were built at a time when labour and materials were cheap and the church was exceedingly wealthy. Today skilled labour is expensive, in some crafts it is in short supply, and the church has far less money than formerly. Moreover, the congregation of many of the churches today is tiny (in medieval times an element of compulsion  governed attendance) and their money-raising powers consequently quite limited.

A few years ago I read of the possibility of the fine church in today's photograph closing for the very reasons cited above. An unforeseen cost arose at the time too, namely the theft of lead from a large area of the roof. I believe that action and sufficient funds have averted the closure. On our recent visit to the building the roofs had been restored, a car-parking space created and the churchyard was well-maintained with some new fencing on its perimeter. Today the church continues to take its place in the community as it has done for almost a thousand years.

My black and white photograph of the building was taken from the corner of the churchyard near where I took an earlier colour shot. In that blog post I wrote of the significance of the architectural crowning glory of the building - its very early broach spire.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Frampton Church, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Improbable photographic colours

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Sometimes it's the depth of the blue in the sky, other times its the lurid green of the fresh grass, and frequently it's the improbable reds and oranges of the sunset (or sunrise). The other day, on a visit to the Yorkshire city of Hull (Kingston upon Hull to give it its full title) it was the blackness of the clouds. I'm referring, of course, to the way that reality sometimes looks unreal. In each of the instances cited above the observant viewer or photographer might well think that the saturation slider has been applied with a heavy hand, although there is a school of photography where this kind of embellishment has become pretty much the norm (see 500px.com).

We visited Hull on a day when heavy showers  and brighter spells alternated, and the clouds produced by this weather were striking. We were walking near the pier where the River Hull meets the River Humber, passing the end of Queen Street, when we both noticed the smoke-like clouds drifting past the tower of Holy Trinity church. My wife remarked that they wouldn't look real in a photograph and I know just what she means.We have reached a point in the development of digital photography when the manipulation of the relatively faithful images produced by cameras are routinely "enhanced", either straight away and automatically by software (e.g. Google's "auto awesome"), or later by the user's deliberate choice. I really wish it would stop. Our world is awesome enough without making it look otherworldly.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Queen Street and Holy Trinity, Hull
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 39mm (78mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.3
Shutter Speed: 1/2000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Giggleswick, a north country church

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The medieval stone-built churches of the Pennines are often characterised by a long, low shape, rather like the medieval farm houses of the northern uplands. But, whereas the latter came about by the living accommodation and barns being side by side and in one building, in the case of churches it was due to technological and, perhaps, stylistic reasons.

If you look at medieval churches across England, and especially in the north country, you will soon begin to notice a triangular shape on the east wall of the tower above the nave roof. You can see such a shape on St Alkelda in Giggleswick, North Yorkshire (above - below the clock). It is a drip mould designed to stop water flowing the down that face of the tower and penetrating the roof. Instead it is made to flow onto the slates, tiles or thatch of the nave roof and thence to gutters and gargoyle spouts. The moulding is revealed for all to see because, of course, the roof that it was designed to serve is no longer there. The availability, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, of cheaper lead in large sheets prompted a widespread migration from steeply pitched church roofs that didn't always work as well as they should, and which needed frequent maintenance, to lower pitched lead-covered roofs. These were frequently so low as to be invisible behind the parapets of the naves and chancels, and sometimes those of the aisles too.

One has to believe that the builders and church authorities who sanctioned the widespread introduction of low, lead-covered roofs decided that the advantages outweighed the less attractive appearance of the building. Certainly that wasn't the case when the Victorian restorers set to work on these churches. Quite a few lamented the lead roofs and in more than a few instances the pitched roofs were reinstated. This didn't happen at Giggleswick. We were there on an overcast evening after a bright day when the view from the side of the churchyard that is allowed to produce hay and grow a little wild offered an interesting image. It reminded me of how many such places looked in the 1960s and 1970s before powered mowers came into widespread use and memorial-strewn lawns replaced long grasses blowing in the wind.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Alkelda, Giggleswick, North Yorkshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Southrey's charming little church

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The church of St John the Divine at Southrey is unusual among Lincolnshire village churches in a number of interesting ways. Firstly it was built in 1898, a late date not only for one of the county's Victorian churches but also because most villages have a medieval building. Then there is the fact that at this late date no architect was involved in its construction. It was built by Richard Turner, the village carpenter, with the help of villagers, the Rev C. Laing and his curate, Mr Knox. This must account for the fact that the church is made of wood, a further unusual characteristic. This material gives the building something of a colonial appearance. The foundations are probably the oldest feature of the church. It is said that the stone slabs that form the plinth were grave covers from the dissolved Bardney Abbey.

The overall design is quite simple - a rectangular nave and chancel in one, a west porch with a large window above, and a small bell turret surmounted by a large weathercock (with cartoon-like painting). What look like four  supporting buttress/poles on each side appear to be later additions holding up the building, perhaps due to movement of some sort. They are, in fact, part of the original design, perhaps a case of "belt and braces" applied by the builders to ensure the structure's integrity.

The exterior timber has been replace by uPVC with little detriment to the overall appearance of the building which is charming. The congregation and clergy clearly look after the building very well and on our recent visit, as on a previous one a few years ago, the church was beautifully presented both without and within. Until recently here was only one piece of original stained glass - a small roundel at the east end above the altar. However, in 2014 the four-light west window above the porch received a remembrance window. The "Southrey Soldiers Windows" by Derek Commander depicts the church in its setting and the military personnel who came from the village and died on active service, the earliest during WW1, the most recent in 2011.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St John the Divine, Southrey, Lincolnshire
Camera: Sony RX10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.9mm (35mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Ropsley's slate gravestones

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Quite a few types of stone are used in the gravestones of Lincolnshire churchyards. The twentieth century shows the greatest variety. From that period I regularly see limestones, sandstone, granite and other common stones. There is also a myriad of coloured, imported (and native) marble. The nineteenth century has most of these stones too, but in the early years, roughly equating to the late Georgian/Regency period, oolitic limestone is very common. This local stone is also widely found in gravestones of the eighteenth century. However, during the last quarter of the eighteenth century and the first twenty or thirty years of the nineteenth century, slate became very popular.

This slate that is dark grey, or with a purple tinge, or (most attractively in my view) a greenish hue, was often sourced from quarries in nearby Leicestershire, particularly in the vicinity of Swithland. It is a material that takes detailed, engraved carving very well, and monumental masons and sculptors delighted in embellishing the stone with putti, swags, swirls, cartouches and florid script. It is also a material that is strong in thinner slabs, and consequently was cheaper to transport. As I've observed elsewhere in the blog, the carving on many slate gravestones is as sharp today as it was when it was cut over two hundred years ago.

The other day I was photographing Ropsley church. This building, of Romanesque and medieval date, stands on a rise among a small forest of slate gravestones. As I took my images I reflected on the tidiness of the churchyard; the neatly mown grass, the absence of weeds, the fact that unlike many churchyards the grass was cut up to the base of each grave and weedkiller was nowhere in evidence. Was it the case, I wondered, that the precision and neatness of the slate gravestones encouraged the overall neatness of the graveyard itself?

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Ropsley Church, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Boston under leaden skies

click photo to enlarge
A recent walk around Boston, Lincolnshire with my camera coincided with leaden skies and drizzle. But, as someone who believes that there is no such thing as bad weather for photography, we persevered. Today's photograph was taken from the bridge by the Grand Sluice, the point at which the tidal waters of the River Witham are prevented from extending inland. The key feature of the shot is the tall tower of St Botolph piercing the sky and reflecting in the water as it has done for the past several hundred years

This medieval structure - the tallest parish church tower in the country that isn't a spire - looms over the centre of Boston much as it always must have done. No other buildings in the town can compete with its height except for the tall slab that is the Pilgrim Hospital, and that is sufficiently far away that the two can only be seen together from a great distance. It is a a great shame that more of our country's big medieval churches don't enjoy the physical prominence that they once did and that often they are dwarfed by towers of varying quality that have been erected with little thought for their venerable neighbours.

The dark sky and low light levels gave my photograph a quite monochrome appearance, with even the green of the grass, that had been spurred on by recent sun and warmth, not managing to pierce the drabness of the day. It also obscured the details along the river banks that allow the photograph to be dated, and were it not for the "bowstring" bridge in the centre distance, the shot could conceivably been taken any year in the last one hundred and fifty.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Botolph and the River Witham seen from the Grand Sluice Bridge, Boston
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The strainer arch

click photo to enlarge
When I first visited Wells Cathedral in Somerset many, many years ago I knew there were two things that I particularly wanted to see. The first was the worn stairs to the Chapter House, the subject of a famous 1903 photograph entitled "Sea of Steps" by the British photographer, Frederick H. Evans (1853-1943). His platinotype image appealed to me because of its purely photographic qualities but also because the subject was an aspect of church architecture, an interest of mine then that continues to this day.

The other thing I searched out that day was the famous strainer arches under the crossing tower. These were inserted as bracing in the arches to the nave and transepts (the choir arch is braced by a screen) by William Joy in 1338. The existing, orthodox arches had begun to show signs of stress after the tower had been heightened, and the "St Andrew's cross" strainer arches were the solution Joy came up with the alleviate the problem. They worked. However, opinion on the aesthetic merits of Joy's arches was divided and remains so. Some see them as an awkward intrusion while others think them an elegant answer that enlivens the interior. I like them and think they are an interesting and beautiful addition to the cathedral.

When I moved to Lincolnshire I came upon a smaller scale copy of the Wells arches in the church of St Denys in Sleaford. Here a strainer arch clearly derived from the Somerset example was inserted at the west end of the north aisle in 1853. Apparently it solves a problem with the original arch that was exhibiting movement due to the weight of the west tower. Though not on the scale of the Wells examples, and introducing a note of asymmetry to the west end of the church, Sleaford's arch is not without its utilitarian beauty.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Strainer Arch, St Denys, Sleaford, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fan vaulting, Peterborough Cathedral

click photo to enlarge
On a recent visit to Peterborough we made a brief visit to the cathedral. I've said elsewhere in this blog that it is one of the most overlooked and least well-known of our major medieval cathedrals, a building of exceptional architecture that deserves to be much more widely recognised.

One of Peterborough's glories is the fan-vaulting of the retrochoir that is every bit as good as the more celebrated example at Gloucester. I've photographed and written about Peterborough's on more than one occasion on this blog, so I won't repeat myself here. On our recent visit the fall of the light and the visitors reminded me of the etchings and woodcuts of cathedral views popular in publications of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. These frequently show small, relatively insignificant people dwarfed by the enormous columns and arches. This effect is heightened by naves empty of seating, something that is seen only occasionally today. However, the retrochoir is usually seat-free, and though it is a smaller space with a lower roof, the visitors here reminded me of those early illustrations. It took a few shots, a few changes of position and a wait for people to populate the scene before I got the image I wanted.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Fan Vaulting, Peterborough Cathedral
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Norman architecture, Melbourne, Derbyshire

click photo to enlarge
Too many writers and architectural historians damn Norman (Romanesque) architecture with faint praise. Because they look at it alongside the principal phases of Gothic architecture, styles that are later in date, more architecturally inventive and refined, and the sources that Victorian Gothicists usually used as their source of inspiration, they find Norman architecture wanting. I've never shared that view, being able to recognise in the style qualities that I find admirable and interesting.
Where detractors see crudity I see primitive vigour, where they see overpowering mass I see grounded strength, "savage" ornament and sculpture is, to my eyes, sturdy, dramatic, even dynamic. Norman architecture should not be judged by the absence of Gothic qualities but for its own elementary and evolving features that give it a grandeur of a different kind from that seen in Gothic architecture.

Today's photograph shows a view along the nave of Melbourne church in Derbyshire. It dates from the 1100s is much larger and grander than most Norman parish churches, but illustrates the sturdy nature of the style very well. The large, cylindrical columns, shallowly carved scallop capitals, rounded arches with heavy moulding and zig-zag , and the simple tub font on four squat columns, can all be seen elsewhere in parish churches, but not too frequently all in the same church. The rounded arches, of course, only allow a narrow nave and aisles, narrow windows, and a relatively short distance between the supporting columns: pointed Gothic arches enabled wider spans in churches.  Consequently Norman parish churches churches tend to be darker than their Gothic counterparts. Here the church is well-lit because the day was very bright. The barn-like roof, incidentally, dates from the 1500s.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Font and Nave, Melbourne church, Derbyshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Royal arms in churches

click photo to enlarge
When Henry VIII, as crown, replaced the Pope as the head of the church in England one of the steps that he had enacted, to remind people of the transfer of power, was to insist on the royal coat of arms being displayed in all churches.These were usually made of painted wood or in the form of a fabric hanging that was fixed to a wall or sometimes hung under an arch. Many royal coats of arms can still be seen today in churches up and down the country. The particular design of the arms, which has changed down the centuries, tell of the reign in which they were made. Few exist from the time of Henry and Elizabeth 1, and in the period of the Commonwealth during the C17 many were destroyed by zealous Puritans. After the Restoration the element of compulsion regarding display was removed but many churches continued to erect royal arms. Eighteenth and nineteenth century examples are common.

Today's photograph is a detail of the very large, wooden coat of arms that hangs below an arch at the west end of the parish church in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire. It dates from the seventeenth century, and is much bigger and more showy than many examples.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.5
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:2000
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Messy and tidy churches

click photo to enlarge
I recently went into a medieval church that proudly proclaimed itself to be a "Messy Church". And it was. One afternoon each week it held an informal meeting for families that included art and craft activities. It presumably subscribed to the "Messy Church" credo. I have no problem with that. However, this church was messy in the more widely understood meaning of that word - it was a tip! Surfaces and walls were littered with pieces of paper, furniture was spread about almost randomly, the underlying architectural order of the various parts of the building and its furnishings was undermined by signs, "displays", artwork and much else. It needed someone with an eye and a tidy mind to get a grip of the interior and show people how it was perfectly possible to have a "messy church" that was tidy, clean and looked cared for: one that showed the congregation and visitors the best of the church's past as well as present.

After the disappointment of that experience it was refreshing to step inside Sutterton church. The signs were good even before I entered the porch because I passed someone digging over one of the churchyard flower beds. Inside was an object lesson in how a church can meet the needs of today without obscuring the building's history. It was tidy, obviously well-cared for, had well arranged evidence of regular and wide-ranging activities, and for this visitor, a real pleasure to see. Of course, a dark November afternoon isn't the best for showing off a medieval church interior. But, such a day brings its own charms in the form of pools of light and areas of deep shadow. Both are shown in my photograph that is taken from the chancel looking towards the nave, font and west window. Incidentally, the leaning verticals are a result of time and the foundations, not my tilted camera.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographing spires

click photo to enlarge
Pevsner calls St Mary Magdalen, Newark, in Nottinghamshire, "among the two or three dozen grandest parish churches of England." It is quite big - 222 feet (68 metres) long, with a spire reaching 237 feet (72 metres). The tower and spire of Newark church are a particularly fine pairing and a landmark that can be seen from miles around. The tower itself is unusual in that it is "engaged" i.e. positioned flush with the west facade. This isn't common. The lower part was begun in the thirteenth century (Early English). At the level of the bell openings we have a crocketed gable indicating the fourteenth century (Decorated). The spire above was completed during the same architectural period.

Newark's church is surrounded by a group of narrow streets and a fine, open market place. None of the surrounding buildings are particularly tall and so the view of the tower and spire are uninterrupted. This makes photography difficult in so far as a lot of sky is inevitable if you wish to include the complete spire. One answer to this problem is to tilt the camera and use trees, lamps and buildings to fill the area that would otherwise be clouds or sky.

Today's photograph was taken in just that way from a nearby footpath called Church Walk. The verticals were corrected in post processing. A November sky is, to my mind, one of the best for church tower photography. There is usually some interest in the clouds, which when combined with the shadows of autumn and any glint of sun make for an atmospheric feel.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16mm (32mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A Decorated arcade

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Existing words are often appropriated by special interest groups to describe something new. Today's photograph is a good example of that. When Thomas Rickman devised his stylistic classification of the periods of English Gothic architecture he came up with the terms Early English, Decorated and Perpendicular to describe the three main styles (as he saw them) between the end of the round-arched Norman (Romanesque) period and the beginnings of the English Renaissance; roughly c.1190 to the early to mid-sixteenth century. Decorated, with or without the capital D, was an existing word with a widely understood, non-specific meaning. But Rickman chose it to describe the ogival forms and naturalistic carving that followed the geometrical, stern precision of the  Early English style.

Today's photograph shows blank arcading in the porch of the medieval church at Osbournby, Lincolnshire. The cusped, "S"-shaped pointed arches (usually called ogee or ogival) are characteristic of the Decorated period and date the work to the fourteenth century. It's quite unusual to have the expense of this kind of decorative carving in the porch of a village church: it is more often reserved for the sedilia in the chancel. The word "arcade", as it happens, is also one that has been appropriated for a variety of uses. It originally meant an arch or a succession of arches, so to describe what we see in the photograph in that way is correct. But, later centuries applied it to covered shopping areas with arched, glazed roofs and later still indoor seaside "amusements" with slot and video games used the term.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:4000
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On