Showing posts with label crossing tower. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crossing tower. Show all posts

Thursday, August 06, 2015

Good enough is fine by me

click photo to enlarge
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

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Tewkesbury Abbey stylistic juxtapositions

click photo to enlarge
I've heard it argued that Gothic architecture i.e. the medieval style that features pointed arches, was the first stone-built style of Northern Europe. During the so-called "Battle of the Styles" in the nineteenth century, when the design of large public buildings in Britain was often decided in competition, Gothic was frequently chosen because it was seen as a native style in contrast to the Classical style which was deemed, rightly, to be Mediterranean in origin.

The Romanesque style with its rounded arches, that preceded Gothic, can be viewed as a debased version of classical architecture, though that is not the whole story by any means; the timber building traditions of the Anglo-Saxons and the decorative sculpture of the Norse peoples are two stylistic threads that are also very evident. Something that I always found interesting was that the Romanesque style merged into Gothic rather than becoming a purer version of the styles of Ancient Greece and Rome. That had to to wait until the Renaissance.

Today's photograph shows part of the nave and more distant crossing and chancel at Tewkesbury Abbey in Gloucestershire. What always strikes me when I enter this building is the contrast between the plain, solid columns and rounded arches of Romanesque period, surmounted by the lighter, ornate vaulting of the later Gothic period. It is not uncommon in many English cathedrals, but at Tewkesbury the dissonance the pairing produces seems more pronounced than elsewhere.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (27mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:2000
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Saturday, November 16, 2013

The beauty of church vaulting

click photo to enlarge
The vaulting that graces many a church and cathedral ceiling, especially inside a tower, is a recurring topic on this blog. I am fascinated by the variations on a theme that medieval masons and carpenters wrought in their desire to beautify the space above the worshippers' heads such that an upward glance really did feel like a glimpse of heaven. Architectural historians have created a whole specialised vocabulary to describe the development of vaulting down the centuries from its beginnings in simple barrel vaulting, to groin vaults, rib vaults, quadripartite and sexpartite vaults, vaults with tiercerons and liernes, culminating in the glories of stellar vaults and fan vaults.

The purpose of vaulting is to take some of the weight of a roof or tower above and distribute it laterally on to arches, walls, piers and columns. In the crossing vault shown above the ribs that form fans stretching from the centre to the four corners are instrumental in achieving this weight transference. However, this vaulting also has a central star pattern made by the addition of short decorative ribs called liernes. Clearly it is a design that seeks to impress with its beauty as well as do an architectural job of work. In fact, all is not what it seems with this vaulting. The tower of Holy Trinity was built during the period 1500-1530 on a raft of oak trees for the lack of any firm bedrock below. These were replaced by concrete in 1906. The vaulting, however, was erected as late as the 1840s, and the beautiful, rich paintwork must surely originate from that time - a mixture of medieval ideas and Victorian interpretation and development of those ideas. When I magnify my photograph I can see that the infill is timber planks so I imagine the ribs must be timber too. This vaulting will have replaced an earlier ceiling. That may have been stone, but is more likely to have been timber too. I've often seen fine Victorian work that replaced an insensitive, flat Georgian ceiling (itself inserted in place of the medieval original) though I've no reason to believe that is the case here. In fact, timber roofs were more widespread in England during the medieval period than in any other North European country and exhibit a unique ingenuity and beauty. Here, at Holy Trinity, the wood mimics painted stone and is none the worse for that.

The organ pipes on north and south sides of the crossing belong to the largest parish church organ in Great Britain. The oldest of the more than 4,000 pipes date from 1756 and are by Johannes Snetzler.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Monday, April 18, 2011

Deceiving the eye

click photos to enlarge
The main photograph in today's entry shows the floor in the choir at Beverley Minster, East Yorkshire. In the smaller image you can see the floor in context*. The three-dimensional effect was achieved by the early eighteenth century restorers using four different colours of marble set in such a way that they suggest cubes. It is hard to imagine anything more different from the small, symmetrically patterned floor tiles that medieval builders favoured for such locations, and which came back into favour during the Victorian period. Yet, one of the marks of the styles in our great churches is that each generation tended to employ that which was fashionable at the time, and the eighteenth century loved this kind of thing.

The Arts and Crafts Movement of the second half of the nineteenth century abhorred such illusionism. They felt that flat surfaces should not be made to appear three-dimensional, that such trickery wasn't being true to either the surface or the materials. I was thinking about this as I photographed the floor, and also when I pointed my camera upwards at the underside of the crossing tower. It's something of a paradox, I thought, that from this point of view the vaulting looks very flat, linear, a touch Rococco even, and the perfectly flat floor looks like it is constructed of angular cubes. Of course, when you position yourself to one side of the crossing, as I did for my earlier photograph, the ceilings' curves, ribs and soaring arches reveal the architecture to be very sculptural. Similarly, a walk down the choir soon reveals the "blockiness" to be smooth, shiny and flawless, a tribute to the workmanship and chosen materials of three hundred years ago.

*Note: choir is used in the architectural sense to mean the place where the choir would sit and services were sung.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Main photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 2500
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On