The lights of Seville

click photo to enlarge
Anyone who has followed this blog for a while will know that one of the reasons I relish my regular visits to London is the opportunity to take photographs in the dark of the evening. In rural Lincolnshire where I live this is not an especially fruitful occupation, certainly compared with the opportunites presented by a city. Consequently, during our time in the city of Seville I made the most of the evenings.

Today's photograph is one of the better results and features a dogwalker, the illuminated tower of Seville cathedral and one of two prominent and ornate lights that illuminate the enclosed square of Plaza del Patio Banderas. In a couple of blog posts I've discussed the value of dog walkers to compositions, particularly in the open spaces of the sea shore. There, usually in distant, diminutive size, they offer a focal point of human (and canine) interest. In this composition I waited for the walker and made her and her dog one of the main points of interest. I returned to this square a couple of times in the hope of getting other good shots, but though some have qualities I like, none matched this photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Dog Walker, Plaza del Patio Banderas, Seville
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15.5mm (42mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Vespa GTS 300

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My interest in scooters began and ended with one that I used to push along with my foot, up and down the hills of my home-town as an eight year old. Even today, if someone says "scooter" I think of the child's plaything rather than the chrome, curves and pop-pop-pop of the sub-motorcycle (or is the step above the bicycle?)

Scooters of the lightweight, folding variety, with skateboard-size wheels, have enjoyed a popularity with children and youths for a number of years. These modern incarnations of the type I knew (in those days by manufacturers such as Triang - today by myriad companies) look like fun. Which is more than I can say about the motorised scooter of today's photograph. I'm sure many would disagree with me on this point, seeing style, convenience and relatively inexpensive transport that can be used wearing work clothes rather than leathers.

So why, you may be wondering, am I photographing something in which I have little interest. The answer lies in the colours, the tactile qualities of the shiny metal, and the way its curves are framed by the yellow, angular lines of the car park. Without its surroundings I wouldn't have photographed this scooter, nor would I have given it a slight vignette to emphasise it in its setting.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Vespa GTS 300
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm (90mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Old slides, newly processed

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It's remarkable how well most old film transfers to digital format. I've recently been using a dedicated negative and transparency (slide) scanner to digitise photographs taken in the 1970s, and I'm very pleased with most of my output. The colour positive slides (Agfacolour in the case of the example shown above) produce a pretty good scanned image that requires a little work on the colour balance, some cleaning of blemishes (usually persistent dust) and a little sharpening. The facility to do multiple passes of the scanner head to neutralise any noise generated in the scanning process doesn't have to be used too often, but when it's needed it works well.

I've chosen this photograph to put on the blog not only because I've been working on family shots, but also because it exemplifies compositional characteristics that have persisted in my photography since my early days - particularly repetition, simplification and spots of colour. It shows the loggia of the Stoa of Attalos, part of the Agora in Athens, Greece. The original building was destroyed in 267AD and what is shown is the reconstruction built in the 1950s that houses a museum. The shot is one of two composed in this way with a figure breaking the repetition: in the second shot that figure is me, and the photograph was taken by my wife.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Repetition - Stoa of Attalos, Athens, Greece
Camera details etc: My memory of which camera I used at this time is a little hazy. Was it the Olympus OM-1n or the more humble Zenit E? It will take a little more scanning and remembering to work that one out.

Blackwall Tunnel, London

click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph was taken on the 26th December, a day known to many in the Christian church as the Feast of St Stephen, and to people in the United Kingdom as Boxing Day. I've often wondered what visitors to our country make of this name for the day after Christmas Day. It has nothing to do with the pugilistic arts, but refers to the giving of a present (or "Christmas Box"), by wealthier people to their servants and tradespeople with whom they had dealings.This custom dates back to the seventeenth century but the name itself only became widely used during the Victorian period.

My visit to the capital was brief - only a couple of days - and was entirely devoted to family matters. However, I took a camera and decided to see what shots I could get on our trips under the River Thames and to the nearby play park. This photograph was taken in the Blackwall Tunnel, a pair of tunnels that passes under the river to the east of the centre of the city, between the edge of Canary Wharf and the O2 arena in Greenwich. It is one of a couple of dozen I took and the one that best achieves the convergence lines and colours that characterise driving through these underwater tubes. I should add that I was a front seat passenger when using my camera!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Blackwall Tunnel, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:1600
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Maud Foster windmill - again

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Today's post is my fourth featuring what I have described as my favourite windmill - the Maud Foster Mill at Boston, Lincolnshire. It's the third taken from approximately the same spot - a bridge over the Maud foster Drain. And, given the way it looks in this photograph you may wonder what all the fuss is about. If so, admire its full beauty and interest in this shot.

I took today's photograph during a morning shopping expedition into Boston. The weather was slightly overcast but the forecasters had promised sun and cloud, a combination I like for compositions in flat regions where a big area of sky is often unavoidable in a landscape shot. When I framed this photograph the cloud was starting to break up and some blue sky was peeping through. Its reflection on the surface of the large, canal-like drain was quite striking. So I made that the real subject of my shot with the windmill an eye-catcher point of focus at the top of the frame. Its a photograph that makes use of the windmill without showing it off in any way.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.2mm (38mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Land versus sky

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When I was starting out in photography over four decades ago I remember reading a number of "rules" - the dos and donts of good picture making. As I progressed and matured I came to see them as guides rather than rules and each as something that could be ignored if the circumstances warranted it. One such rule concerned the balance between land and sky. Never, it was said, have the horizon in the middle of your photograph giving equal weight to sky and land because if you do the viewer will not know where you wish to place your interest and emphasis - or words to that effect. It's not a bad piece of advice, and there is some truth in the guidance. However, there have been times when I have done just that because my compositional judgement said it was the best solution.

An extension of this rule was that you should split your composition 1/3 to 2/3. If the land was to be 2/3 then the sky would be 1/3 and vice versa. Again, it isn't a bad rule because it often looks "right". However, there are times when it looks wrong. These days I compose largely intuitively but every now and then I pause and think about the land/sky split and what the proportions should be. In the shot above the enormity and the interest of the Lincolnshire sky was accentuated by making it more than 1/3 of the composition. Moreover, the spire of Walcot church (see previous post), a structure that is big when you are nearby, is reduced to its proper insignificance when seen in the context of a broad landscape.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 38mm (57mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Proximity as a photographic device

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Proximity, juxtaposition, adjacency - open the thesaurus and choose your word. Whatever you call it, the photographic device of arranging two, often very different (but sometimes oddly linked) objects in the frame, is one of long standing. Depending on the objects that are chosen this compositional approach can be arresting, humorous, thought provoking, surreal and much else. It's something that I like to do when the situation arises, and a technique that I will often go out of my way to engineer into an image.

I've touched briefly on the subject before, but anyone who has looked through my offerings on this site will recognise the frequency with which I put the idea into practice. I've used a trompe l'oeil bull and a passerby, old and new architecture, primary colours, a traffic sign and a poster, a futuristic public bench and a roller coaster and many other pairings in an effort to bring something new and different to my compositions.

On my recent stay in London the echo of the unusual colours of the ready-mix concrete lorry and the block of flats called for a photograph that made something of the slightly odd proximity of the two. The adjacent railway bridge gave something of a frame to my shot and the whole was lifted by the low sun and deep shadows of the early morning. Not as obvious a juxtaposition as in some of my photographs, but one that pleased me. Incientally, I've commented to my companions on more than one occasion that I really like the architectural treatment of the exterior of this building. Thus far I've found no one who agrees with me!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.2mm (38mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Semi-abstract, addition and subtraction

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I've mentioned semi-abstract photography, why I use the term, what it is and why I like it, it in posts of 2007 (Blackpool semi-abstract), 2009 (Why semi-abstract photography) and 2010 (A light, stairs and abstraction). Over the years I've also included in the blog many photographs of this genre, some of which I count among my favourite shots.

On a recent shopping expedition to King's Lynn in Norfolk I got another example for my collection. It is, I suppose, one of those photographs that is an acquired taste; the sort of image that appears only in the ouvre of enthusiast photographers. And yet, as I prepared the shot for publication, I reflected that the means of arriving at this particular subject and composition is precisely the same as for any other kind of photograph.

In a way it is easier to appreciate the process of putting together a photograph if we compare it with a similar but different process, so let's for a moment think about the artist with their brushes. The artist starts with a blank canvas and carefully begins to add those elements - real or imagined - that he or she requires in order to arrive at the finished composition: it is essentially an additive process. Photography is approached in a different way and can be thought of as the opposite of this method of working. What photographers do is survey the scene before them, a scene that is potentially 360° in circumference as well as extending above and below, and settles on a small part of it to include in the camera viewfinder. The photographer moves the camera (or zooms the lens) to exclude from the viewfinder anything that isn't needed in the final composition: it is a subtractive process.

As I stood idly in a fairly recently built shopping precinct, waiting for my wife, I did just that. I gazed at the rectangular elements of the upper part of the walls and selected a segment for my photograph that I thought would make a visually interesting composition. I included a rather odd-looking light and some sky. I tried to make the arrangement have balance, contrast, cohesion and harmony. I was looking for a calm, restful and precise photograph where the subject is less important than the colours, shapes, lines etc. I'm not displeased with the outcome.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographic decisions

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Every time we take a photograph we make decisions. If we assume that we've already decided the nature of the subject then the first one concerns what part of our field of view we will use as the composition or whether we will we use it all. Having decided that we have to consider what we want to say through the photograph - what it's about. Is it representational reportage where the subject is all important and we are saying, "look at this", to the viewer? Is the way we show the subject, the viewpoint we adopt, the way we use light, composition, colour etc. important, so that the image us as much about the photographers vision as it is the subject, and we are inviting the viewer to look at the subject in our particular way? Or is there an intention to introduce an element of abstraction, to make the viewer wonder what they are looking at and why the image was conceived in that way? There are other decisions to be made, of course, but these three interest me because I deliberately exploit them all at various times in my photography.

Today's photograph falls into the last of these three categories. I took it one evening in London as I looked up at the darkening sky with its pink-tinged clouds and their reflection on the glass of the office buildings. I wanted to make a photograph with very little in it, that concentrated on just a few elements arranged in a simple composition. Moreover, I was keen to produce an image where the component parts would be appreciated for their intrinsic graphic qualities rather than because they were part of the recognisable, real world. The shot I came up with is divided into two halves by a diagonal line, sky and clouds on one side, glass, glazing bars and cladding on the other. It contrasts softness and irregularity with hardness and regular linearity, the colours o the sky and their reflections uniting the two halves, with an element of abstraction to complete the mix.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.8mm (60mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: 2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Photography, fishing boats and the sea

click photo to enlarge

I've lived near the coast and spent quite a bit of my time photographing it for a fair chunk of my life. That's not unusual, of course, when you live on a relatively small island. However, one of the characteristics of the British Isles, England in particular, is that it is densely populated and and its landscape can change quite markedly over short distances. A consequence of this is that some people don't visit the coast much because it requires a journey on heavily used roads or public transport. Others forsake regular visits because there are competing attractions in the form of mountains, lakes, moors, woodland etc.

I've always enjoyed the coast, not least because of the sense of space that you find there and the quality of the light that positively invites photography. Then there's the distinctive sights that are also manna to the photographer. Whether it is shingle or sand, salt marsh or sea cliffs, harbours, bays, promenades or whatever, the coast is a great place for photography. It's also, I find, a location that encourages you to slow down and contemplate as you gaze out over the flickering water. Small wonder that people often retire to a seaside location.

One of the things I often reflect upon by the coast is the fishermen that I see in small, inshore boats. Their life is, I know, dangerous and not without its travails, both physical and financial. And yet, on a sunny, summer day with the wind a benign zephyr and the water quiescent it appears to have its attractions. Perhaps without such days people wouldn't continue in the occupation: stormy weather and the icy blasts of winter must have their compensations. My photograph shows an Aldeburgh fisherman attending to his catch accompanied by gulls feeding on his scraps. His was the sole craft on the sparkling water that morning, an image of easy tranquillity as the tide reached its maximum height. For my shot I positioned the boat off centre and used the coiled rope on the beach as a visual counterweight. Black and white seemed to suit this fairly minimalist composition better than the original colour.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 47mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Where do photographs come from?

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The answer to today's title question seems fairly obvious - from a camera, or perhaps a printer. And so they do, but the genesis of every photographic image is in someone's mind. Before it is captured by the camera or printed on paper it is conceived by someone looking and thinking.

I do quite a bit of DIY. I find it interesting, often quite relaxing, sometimes fulfilling, and invariably a money saver. When it comes to embarking on a project I know that the most crucial part of the process is the "thinking time" before I buy the materials and pick up the tools. So too with photography: most of my images are preceded by a period of thought and in that thinking time I'm pondering what I see before me, what I will include in the frame, what I'll leave out, what kind of composition I want, what the subject might look like from a different angle, whether there are any dissonant objects or conjunctions that will interfere with the image, etc. But there are occasions too when I take a shot instinctively; when the elements of an image present themselves, seemingly register on my subconscious and I raise the camera and press the shutter in one quick movement without much conscious thought.

Today's image is one of those shots. I was leaving a service building (a dairy I think) at Audley End House in Essex when I noticed the raking light emphasising the raised pattern on the door. I must have subconsciously taken in the bright areas of the sunlit door, ground and sky, the contrasting shadows and the two people passing in front of the dark yew hedge. Moreover, I must have registered the importance of the figures in the whole composition because I quickly grabbed my shot before they walked out of view. It's not my usual way of working but sometimes I find myself doing it and often liking the result. I wish I could do it more often!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 21mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Castle Rising, time and photography

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There are those among my family, friends and acquaintances who think that I spend a lot of time on photography. Compared with a casual snapper I do. And, given that I'm retired, I suppose I spend more time taking pictures than the average enthusiast. But in some respects I still feel that the time I devote to photography is insufficient. Let me explain with respect to a recent example.

A couple of weeks ago I was travelling through Norfolk on my way to spend a few days near Wells next the Sea when I passed Castle Rising. This Norfolk village is a place I've visited once before to see its church. On this occasion, however, we'd decided to break our journey at that point to have a look at the Norman castle remains, some of the best of their kind in the country. The time of day (mid-morning) and the weather (sunny with areas of small clouds) was pretty good for photographing architecture - shadows help to delineate and describe the structure and sky interest is always welcome. I knew I'd take some details but I also decided to try and get a shot of the keep in its bailey. The first one I took is the main photograph at the top of the post. It's a shot showing the structure from the earth bank near the entrance gateway and has a few things to commend it - the asymmetry of the main subject, the path leading from the "empty" side of the shot, the angle of the building to the viewer with the side in shadow giving a strongly three-dimensional character, the balance of the main elements and the colours across the frame. But, the sun was slightly filtered by an area of cloud at the time, and the shot is consequently a bit "flat".

With an eye on that passing area of cloud we went to have a second look at Castle Rising church and a wander through a couple of village streets. The second and third shot were therefore taken a little later when the sun was stronger. I took one shot of the keep from ground level but the angle of the sun relative to my position wasn't the best so the areas of shadow are few. However, the simplicity of the shot - grass, building, sky - has a certain appeal. It was probably the absence of shadow in this photograph that caused me to take the next one from beyond the arch of the entrance gateway tower. Framing of this sort can be overworked, but here I'm fairly happy with it in terms of the dramatic strength of overall image. The downside of this position for photographing the keep is that you are face on to a single wall and consequently the image tells you less about its structure.

And that's where I come back to time and the amount I spend photographing. Most of my shots are taken on the hoof. By that I mean we are either walking, cycling or driving, and the purpose of our time when I grab my images is only partly photography. Were I to devote more time to photography I'd plan the best angles for a shot of this building, keep an eye on the weather, and return with a specific shot in mind, repeatedly if necessary until I secured it. If photography was my source of income that's what I'd have to do. I'm very glad it isn't.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

River Welland scene

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I sub-title this blog, "Photographs and reflections from Lincolnshire, England", so it's perhaps about time that I featured a photograph from the county where I live. The trouble is, I haven't got too many photographs that were taken locally in the past month. Here's one, however, that I took it on a shopping trip to Stamford. The River Welland runs through the town and this section often has a small boat or two moored under the trees. It's enough to give a point of interest around which to build a composition. I posted a shot a while ago of the same area of river, though with a wider perspective.

As I walked over the bridge I noticed a few mallards and mute swans in front of the pair of rowing boats. After something of a wait as the birds swam here and there, never quite getting into a compositionally "right" location relative to the boats, this solitary bird obliged me by positioning itself in the area of dark water on the right of the frame and I pressed the shutter.

In one of my early posts on this blog I reflected on photographing swans, and in particular the slightly apologetic note with which enthusiast photographers often accompany such an image. There is the feeling that swans are "corny" subjects, photographed to death. I've always been of the view that if we excluded subjects that have been heavily photographed there'd be precious little left to photograph, and that the approach you adopt is more imprtant than the subject itself. Evidence for my belief in that assertion can be found in the number of photographs of swans on this blog and my different treatments of the subject! See here, here, here, here and not least, here.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 140mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Simplification

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Since my translocation from a coastal area with a conurbation to a rural area with fields and villages I've found it harder to simplify my photographs. Perhaps it's because in my present setting I see fewer opportunities for images that emphasise these qualities. Yes there are uniform areas of grass and sky, but there is little open water or sea, no expanses of beach, large buildings with plain walls are few as are expanses of concrete and tarmac. So, simple backdrops are harder to find. And, the range of subjects that I could call upon in the vicinityof  my former home was wider. Consequently, as I go about my photographic business I'm constantly on the look out for any image that exhibits the simple force of just two or three elements. Sometimes I find it by going in close either by physical proximity or using a zoom lens. But opportunities for wider shots that feature this quality are harder to find and see.

However, the other day as we walked across the field of winter wheat around which is the village of Tetford on the Lincolnshire Wolds, one of these simple images presented itself to me. My wife was walking ahead, bum-bag bouncing, map in hand, as we came towards the end of a long morning walk. As she strode along the uniform greenness of the wheat, the long and sinuous path, and her figure suggested a shot. So, I stepped to the side to make the line of the foorpath fill the right of the frame, placed my wife on the left, and took a couple of photographs. This is best one.


For more thoughts on simplifying photographic compositions see here, here, and here. Examples are spread throughout (mainly) the years 2005-2007 of the blog!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 271mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 320
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Summat an' nowt

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When I was growing up in the Yorkshire Dales the phrase "summat an' nowt" could often be heard, frequently as a dismissive term. "Ay lad", a grown up would say, "I saw that programme last night on t' telly. It were a bit o' summat an' nowt." The literal translation of the phrase is "something and nothing", and the meaning leans heavily towards the final word of those three. "Devoid of substance" is too grand a conversion, but that comes pretty close to what most users of the phrase intend.

"Summat an' nowt" is a phrase I associate with photographs such as today's, or shots like this beach scene, this crow, and this number and boat. They are images that have a small amount of a not very interesting subject and a seemingly large amount of very little. "Something and nothing" is the phrase I've heard used a couple of times to describe such photographs, and when I do my Yorkshire-raised mind supplies the vernacular version. And yet this kind of minimalist image frequently provokes longer and deeper thought on the part of the viewer than does a nominally more interesting subject such as a landscape, portrait or architectural shot. There's not only the "why" of it to consider, but the spare composition invites attention too, and the space concentrates our attention on the details of the "subject". Take my chair on the stairs at Kirby Hall, Northamptonshire. Is it about the chair? Is it a record of this part of an old, mainly ruined building? Neither really. What interested me here was the arrangement of lines in the frame's rectangle that are anchored by the chair. This photograph of part of a school building was also taken mainly for the arrangement of lines. Something else I liked in today's photograph was the washed out, muted colours. There's nothing in the photograph that jumps out and grabs you, everything is calm, still, serene. But not entirely devoid of substance I hope.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Southwold Pier

click photo to enlarge

As you point your camera nearer to the sun the dramatic quality of your image increases - and the colour drains away. That thought ocurred to me when I reviewed this photograph on my computer. But then I thought, hang on a moment, Southwold Pier is pretty devoid of colour anyway, so this image doesn't make that point very well.

I used to take more contre jour shots than I do now. I think it is my change of location to rural Lincolnshire: the subjects that work with this approach are now harder to find. However, on a recent visit to Suffolk I did take a few against the light, of which this is one. I kept the sun's brightness out of the shot - you can just see the edge of it at the top right of the frame.

I chose this shot for today because it happens to illustrate a few of the compositional devices I listed yesterday. Framing, using the posts and pier name; contrast by shooting contre jour; leading lines (the railings and pier itself); repetition of forms; balanced asymmetry (the sweep of the near pier to the left, the thrust of the main pier and pier name to the right); and a single subject. But, as I say above, it doesn't make my point about colours dying away as you point the lens closer to a strong light source.

Southwold Pier opened for business in 1900. That being the case you'd expect it to have large, ornate pavilions, substantial benches, decorative railings, and lashings of bright paint to emphasise that a pier is all about FUN. However there are a couple of reasons why the pier is a sober and studied essay in white, black and grey (the primrose yellow landward building excepted). The first is because, as with most piers, it has been knocked about a bit and very little remains from the early days. In 1934 a storm swept away the T-shaped landing stage at the end of its 810 feet (245m) length. Then, during the Second World War, like many east and south coast piers it was cut to prevent it being used by invasion ships. A further indignity was visited on it when it was struck by a drifting mine that exploded taking down another section. Repairs in 1948 proved to be insufficiently robust to prevent a 1955 storm cutting it in half, and in a storm of 1979 it was reduced to a stump a mere 150 feet (45.4m) long. However, in 1999 a fund raising campaign secured enough money to rebuild it, and in 2001 it was re-opened in the form we see today. That brings me to the second reason for its sober colours and undemonstrative architecture. Southwold is one of the English seaside towns without an "amusement" area. The place has a reputation as a middle-class playground, and I imagine that this is not unconnected with the pier's appearance and its difference from most other English piers.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16mm (32mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/1600
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Foggy day photography

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I like to convert colour photographs to black and white. I'm not one who does it all the time, nor can I say that I do it with the majority of my images. But, when I have a subject that I think suits the treatment, I have no hesitation about going monochrome. People, buildings, some landscapes, shots with shadows or large areas of darkness and occasional highlights, are the subjects I favour. The Black and White gallery in my "Best of PhotoReflect 5" features many such images.

However, there is one subject that, I think, particularly lends itself to a black and white treatment and that is fog. Many photographs that are taken in fog (as opposed to above it from a hill) have very muted colour. Consequently the step to monochrome is smaller than it would otherwise be. Furthermore, the gentle gradations that foggy images feature are emphasised when they are in shades of a single colour rather than broken up by the complication of several. In addition, black and white often has the effect of giving a foggy image a more sombre or mysterious mood; something that can be very appropriate for the right subject.

Today's photograph is, to my mind, the best of the three foggy photographs that I'm posting following my recent morning expedition. The simplicity in terms of composition and subject make it for me. The road, hedge, two areas of grass, sky and the pair of pine trees would be complicated by a backdrop of more trees and a distant farm in clearer weather, and the image would be much busier. When I composed it I also liked the way the trees were near, but not at the intersection of the converging lines. It's probably not a shot that will have particularly wide appeal, but I do think it's one of my better recent photographs.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Feeding the blog

click photo to enlarge
When you have a blog to feed you're always on the look out for photographs. The drive to find enough shots to fill the week's quota sharpen's one's eye tremendously and images can rear up before you in the most unlikely places. Today's offering is an example of this that I came upon when I was dusting in the living-room.

Several years ago my youngest son was a member of the team that won a national competition called "Target 2 Point 5 Challenge." This was organized by the Bank of England, and was for 6th form students studying economics. As well as a couple of prizes, each member of the team was presented with a trophy by the Bank's governor. It was this that I was dusting, a tall, engraved, prismatic piece in very hard plastic/glass, proudly displayed in my house. When I picked it up the sun caught it, throwing a spectrum on to the shelf. Curious, I raised the trophy to my eye and looked through the base. My view of the room was instantly fractured into multiple planes. I made a mental note to do that again, but with a camera, and continued about my domestic duties.

A couple of days later, in the evening, I took the trophy, placed it under a bright light source and examined it from every angle, pointing the LX3 at it with the lens set to macro. I eventually settled on the shot I've reproduced above. It involves reflections and distortions of, mainly, the trophy itself. It was taken by aiming the camera at the base and features quite a bit of text, as well as areas of light and dark, that made quite a good composition. When I came to process it on the computer it occurred to me that the image has something of the look of a Cubist painting. I don't imagine that Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso, the two premier exponents of Cubism, ever looked through prisms to find ideas for their fractured paintings. But, after my experience with my son's trophy, I wouldn't be surprised to find that they did.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Sunset woods

click photo to enlarge
When I lived in the north west of England woodland was not hard to find. Deciduous woodland was common on the slopes of the Pennines, most of it the result of planting, and today managed for timber or shooting to a greater or lesser extent. However, there was some vestigial woodland, a natural continuation of that which grew there thousands of years ago. On the uplands conifer plantations were fairly common on thin, acidic soil, dense green swathes of woodland with brown scars where felling or new planting was taking place. Where I live now, in Lincolnshire, there is significantly less woodland, and what there is is largely the result of deliberate planting. On the Fens trees are most common around villages, and around farms as wind-breaks, with the odd plantation and copse to be found among the vegetable and cereal fields. However, if one goes on to the low hills or the higher Wolds of the county you find that woodland established for timber or sporting reasons is fairly common.

Todays' photograph shows a view at the edge of a small wood near Aswarby, Lincolnshire. On the particular estate where these trees grow there is a sawmill, and timber is cropped for the wood it produces. But, pheasant are a lucrative crop in this area too, and the woods are dotted with the pens and feeders that support the rearing of this "game bird". I took this shot towards sunset, and deliberately chose these three trees to be in the image. It would have been perfectly easy to have included a lot of trees, but I felt the composition and the imapct of the shot would be better served by a small number. Incidentally, this is another photograph taken with the 16:9 aspect ratio of the LX3, a format that I particularly like for landscapes.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.2mm (48mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A light, stairs and abstraction

click photo to enlarge
Abstraction in painting involves either taking things from the real world and depicting them in an unreal but recognisable way, or using two dimensional elements such as colour, shape, line, etc non-representationally. If you go to any gallery that includes a reasonably large and wide-ranging selection of post-1900 paintings you are likely to see examples of both these approaches.

In photography it is easy to create images that follow the first method. One can see why, since most photography involves depicting the world around us in one way or another. However, it is (in the main*) not possible to make photographic images the second way because, for the camera, the elements of two dimensional representation, such as pure colour, do not exist independently of objects. They can be introduced using image editing software, but then we have moved into that grey area where digital painting meets photography. As I've said before in this blog, for me the term semi-abstract best describes what photographers do in this sphere.

Today's photograph is my most recent work in the semi-abstract genre. It shows a wall light that illuminates a stairway in a large building. I composed my shot by tilting the camera until I'd got what I considered to be a dynamic but balanced composition of three basic elements - grey wall, black steel support and stairs, and blue sky through glass. My adjustment placed the orange light towards the bottom in the grey wall, and also included its reflection in the black, giving some necessary interest in that region of the photograph. Why do I call this semi-abstract? Because the arrangement of shapes, lines, colours, tones, etc is the primary motivation for the image, and the light, stairs, metal, glass and sky are necessary incidentals.

* deliberate camera flare, and a few other methods can be seen as image making using elements that are not based in the real world

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.2
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66EV
Image Stabilisation: On