Glass curtain wall reflections

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It's almost become a reflex action, a tic that I can't stop. I pass a tall office block or other large building with a glass curtain wall and I begin to search its reflections. I'm looking for either an interesting mirroring of the street, people, trees and other buildings; or I'm searching for the airy, almost diaphanous lightness that often arises between the plane of the wall and the sky beyond. There's something that fascinates me about the way the regular grid of slender glazing bars seems to lay across the sky like the rectilinear web of a robotic spider, and how it abruptly ends as it wraps around the corner of the building.

I've photographed glass curtain walls many times over the years and quite a few of  the shots have made it onto the blog. Probably my favourite is one that was, like the shot above, taken in London; though this time in the early evening so featuring incandescent clouds. And though it may look like the example in todays's post features the same building, it doesn't.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 112mm (168mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Is grey the new magnolia?

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I ask the question posed in the title not because I'm some sort of fashion sage or guru, or an arbiter of taste, or an expert on interior or urban design. No, what prompts my question is an article that I read in The Guardian entitled, "From Apple products to DIY and fashion: how grey became the colour of the decade."The author of the piece describes the colour as embodying "the spirit of the post-boom era", hard-wearing and practical. She goes on to note its presence, even ascendance, in clothing fashions, interior walls and on doors, in upholstery, sports wear, nail varnish, office and domestic equipment and much else. It is seen to be smart, elegant, neutral and a good complement to other colours.

I have noticed a slight resurgence in the use of grey but not the all-conquering shift suggested in the article. Perhap I'm not persuaded by her argument, in part, because we used it on some internal wall in the mid-1970s, and I've noticed it being used reasonably regularly since that time. But, I have seen the "tide of green paint" (particularly the sage variety) that I blogged about a while ago watered down by shades of grey that are used in similar circumstances by the same demographic. And I've seen and enjoyed its use in architecture, particularly on facades (see above). But, as for choosing grey because it fits the "spirit of the post-boom era": well, that's a stretch too far for me. It makes as much sense to suggest that it's part of the search for the new magnolia, a need for a change in the backdrop of living rooms, a colour against which other points of colour display well. Black, white, cream and grey serve this purpose especially well. This well-known among the photographic fraternity. Card mounts around photographs often feature one of these colours. Photographers who use Photoshop or one of its equivalents also appreciate the value of a mid to dark grey background against which to display digital images. In fact, why do you think I chose the colours I did for this blog!?

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28.5mm (77mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Inequality

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Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881), a man who was on two occasions the prime minister of Great Britain, once said, "There are three types of lies - lies, damned lies and statistics". One of the implications of his remark is that statistics are not only frequently untrue, but are often deliberately used falsely. And yet, statistics can be very revealing because they can quantify, and therefore clarify, that which may be hidden or obscured. When they do this the revelation that they uncover can be startling.

Yesterday my newspaper reported a statistic that not only brought me up short, but made me feel extremely uncomfortable: in fact, made me feel ashamed to be part of our society. The charity, Oxfam*, has calculated that the total wealth of the five richest British families exceeds that of the poorest 20% of the population. In other words this, handful of rich people have more money and assets than the least well-off 12.6 million Britons. Could the starkness of that contrast, the iniquity of that inequality, the shame that it brings to every politician and law maker, and to every individual voter, be made without the force of that statistic? I would encourage anyone who reads that statistic and is as appalled by it as I am, to at the very least, remember it when elections come along; to cast their vote for the party that pledges to reduce inequality; to vote for those who will ensure the rich pay a greater share of their wealth to achieve that goal; and only endorse those determined that the poor and less well-off will receive a larger share of the national income.

I was recently in Canary Wharf. Along with the City of London (the financial district not the greater metropolitan area) this is one of the two centres of finance in the UK. It exudes wealth. From the up-market eateries to the private security guards, manicured gardens and spotless streets it speaks of money. What better to represent today's post than the gleaming steel and glistening glass of two of the many banks to be found there.

* In January 2014 Oxfam also reported that the 85 richest people in the world had more wealth and assets than the poorest half of the world's population!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Autumn in London

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When I engaged in paid, daily work I always regretted that I didn't have the time to watch the seasons change in the way that I knew they did - slowly and incrementally. The transition from autumn to winter involves not only a peaks and troughs decline in the temperature, but a change in the light from blue-white to yellow tinged as the sun moves closer to the horizon. The autumnal tints of the trees and the drifts of leaves against walls and kerbs were easy to see. Less visible was the subtle colours of individual species - the red-orange of the cherries, the yellow of the limes and field maples, and the lingering green of the willow.

When I lived in a city such changes were masked by the prevalence of concrete, brick, tarmac and grass. Yes, there were trees, parks and gardens, but the daily grind meant that often you could pay little attention to seasonal metamorphosis. Before you knew it the end of August had turned to November and you had only a vague notion of how the transformation had been achieved. The pace of modern life means that we rarely have the time to stop, stand, stare and fully appreciate the beauty of the changing seasons.

The other day I took a couple of "autumn" shots in London. The first was of the tower and spire of St Mary's church at Rotherhithe. The current building, completed in 1716, replaced a church of the twelfth century. As I walked along the cobbles of the adjacent road I looked up through the yellows, browns and greens of the trees and took a photograph that, when I viewed it on the camera screen, looked like it could have been taken in a small town, a village or the open countryside almost anywhere in England. The presence of a churchyard with its old trees was enough to turn autumn in the city into a more universal view of the season. That couldn't be said of the second photograph of what looks like a red oak near the glass curtain wall of some offices near the centre of the city. Here a grid of man-made, regular, modernity contrasts strongly with the irregularity of the branches and leaves of the specimen trees tat are dotted among the gleaming towers. The contrast of of the two photographs taken only a couple of miles apart in the capital city couldn't be greater, and yet I think both say something about autumn in the city.

photographs and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.3mm (52mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Price, value and Oscar Wilde

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"Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." (from "The Picture of Dorian Grey")
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), Irish writer and poet

The quotation above is delivered by Oscar Wilde's character, Lord Henry, in the course of an apology for lateness - "I went to look after a piece of old brocade in Wardour Street and had to bargain for hours for it. Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." However, it seems to me that for many years it has accurately summarised the attitude of British politicians, both national and local. Our coalition government is cutting state spending, particularly that by local government with a barely disguised zeal. Under the pretext of "balancing the books" and "clearing up the mess left by the previous government" they are doing what their political philosophy of "shrinking the state" would have led them to do in any circumstances.

The effect of this in the wider country, particularly where the political complexion is the same as that at national level, is that services are being hacked to pieces. Lincolnshire County Council wants to reduce the spending on its library service by one third, closing many libraries, and hoping that volunteers will step in to fill the void created. In Boston the council is seeking to attract businesses to the town and at the same time is selling off public buildings in order to generate income and reduce outgoings. The glass fronted building in today's photograph used to be an art gallery and community space. For the past few years it has been empty, the only thing on display being a sign advertising its suitability for offices. There have been no takers. What the local council don't seem to realise is that companies looking to locate in an area, and attract workers to their businesses, are influenced by the cultural services available. Many new industries will only establish themselves in a place that offers their workforce theatres, galleries, public parks and facilities that give a buzz to the area. Politicians who close galleries and libraries whilst at the same time working to increase jobs in their area epitomise Wilde's quotation to perfection. It also brings to mind E. M. Forster in "Howard's End" - "Only connect!"

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Double the value

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In one of my early posts - in March 2006 as it happens - I extolled the advantages of a west-facing coast. I happened to live near the west-facing Fylde coast at the time and during my years in Lancashire I frequently photographed during the evening by the sea. Such a coast has a singular advantage at this time of day because, if the sun goes down and produces a blazing sunset, one with fiery skies of red, orange and yellow, the reflection on the sea below doubles the magical effect. I now live in Lincolnshire, a county with a coast that faces east and my nearest west facing coast is round on the other side of The Wash in Norfolk, in the area of Hunstanton. In fact, that is the only piece of coast in the east of east of England that faces west (a good quiz question there I think).

Fortunately the sea is not the only reflective surface that doubles the value of a sunset: ponds, lakes and rivers do as well. So too do the glass curtain walls of modern high-rise buildings. This particular sunset shows the same glass wall that features in today's photograph. It is in Southwark, London. On the day in question it wasn't evening as I passed but early morning and looking up I saw that the sky was being reflected in a rather fine manner. Such reflections regularly attract my eye and feature fairly strongly in this blog. I wonder if the extra value that they add to the subject they reflect appeals to my Yorkshire upbringing?

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Into the city canyons

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The other day I ventured into the canyons of the city of Peterborough. All large cities have these places, precincts where tall towers, flats and blocks of high offices crowd the streets on every side, blocking out the light, casting almost perpetual shadow, giving a feeling of enclosure and oppression. In Peterborough the canyons are not so great and grand as in, say, London, but they are there nonetheless.

Architects and planners try to ameliorate the gloom and overwhelming domination of these big buildings in a number of ways. Some cities insist on the upper storeys being set back from the main walls, elsewhere plazas and urban spaces are required to let periodic pools of light illuminate the street level. Glass curtain walls, clear or tinted, and mirrored glass seek to bounce the available light around, from building to building, making the most of what is available. And, where the towers are not so tall, trees are planted to soften the imperious rectilinearity of the architecture.

Today's photograph shows a tree in such a setting. Its irregularity and diagonals break up the horizontals and verticals of the residential flats, the offices and a reflected hotel. The mirror wall's reflection makes one tree into two, and shows the sunny face alongside the actual tree's shaded side. In summer its leaves will soften the architecture still further, and, whilst it will add to the ground level shadows, at least it will be at a time of year when the light from above is stronger than it was on my recent visit.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Staring at stairs

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When I looked in my edition of the Oxford English Dictionary I initially couldn't find the word "stairwell". But, after a bit of digging, it turned up towards the end of the "stair" entry. The definition was as I imagined, namely "the shaft containing a flight of stairs." It seems to be one of those words that is slowly falling out of use, being replaced by "stairs" and "staircase", neither of which properly describes the architectural space, but rather the structure for ascent and descent that it holds.

I was pondering this word as I processed my photograph of a glass-walled stairwell in some Hull offices, a shot that I'd taken during the early evening on my last visit to the Yorkshire city. It occurred to me that I had to - wait for it - "stare well" before I took my photograph, but that no one in the building took the slightest bit of notice of me. That was quite a contrast with what happened when I took an early evening photograph of a glass walled building in the private public space that is "More London" a couple of years ago. On that occasion a security guard came out and asked me to stop taking photographs. I thought then, as I thought when I took the photograph in Hull, that anyone who doesn't want to be photographed inside the building in which they work really shouldn't choose one with glass walls. If you inhabit a goldfish bowl you can't complain if people stand and look at you or take photographs, especially if the land outside is public space. Besides, doesn't an architect, in designing in this way, seek to both satisfy the practical and aesthetic needs of the client and offer the locality a building worth looking at? And can we be blamed if we look - or take photographs? Those in this office certainly seemed untroubled by me taking shots from nearby and further away. Would that London offices were as accommodating!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 1000
Exposure Compensation:  -1.00 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting on Holy Trinity, Hull

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The advent of the world wide web opened up so many avenues and repositories of information on such a wide variety of subjects that, for many, it has become completely overwhelming. Some older people find the idea of searching this massive morass daunting and having dipped their toes in once, vow never to return. Younger people have different strrategies for dealing with it, one of which is to limit what they look at. On the face of it this seems fair enough: you simply can't engage with everything when "everything" means just that! However, what looks like rational and reasoned selectivity is frequently just another coping strategy not entirely unlike the rejection adopted by quite a few senior citizens. How so? Well, often it involves looking only at what you like or agree with. Take politics. If you are left-leaning the tendency is to visit only those websites that reflect your views; to avoid the online newspapers of a right-wing persuasion, and to simply reinforce your existing beliefs. And, the internet specialising in nuance as it does, provides a menu of sites to satisfy particular viewpoints. What it does less well is offer intelligent sites that are more broadly based, where opposing or differing viewpoints sit side-by-side. Now you might think that it's quite easy to select and view multiple sites that offer these contrasts and thereby expose yourself to conficting opinions. But, as we all know, few do that. In fact, by its very nature and organisation the internet seems to positively encourage people to limit the range of experiences to which they subject themselves. Quite the opposite of what some of its cheerleaders proclaim.

I drifted into this line of thought when I gazed once again on the reflected image of the medieval church of Holy Trinity in Hull. The 1970s tinted glass curtain wall that was erected at a time when I lived in the city, is losing a little of its sheen. It always reflected back that which was in front of it (rather like some internet users' screens). On a bright day with deep colours and sharp shadows it can look quite a sight. On a dull day with muted tones, featureless stratus above and fading light below it makes much less of an impact. The green paper stuck on the inside of some windows isn't helping either. I searched for an alternative to the obvious main shot, but the complexity of my second attempt, though not without interest, is somewhat intricate; real church, reflected church and trees appear to compete rather too much.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 55mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Getting the best photograph

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One of the joys of digital photography is the ease and lack of extra expense involved in taking multiple shots of the same subject with the intention of securing the best possible image. Today's photograph, like yesterday's, is one of six that I took the other day of clouds reflected in the glass curtain wall of some London offices.

Here are the main advantages that I see in taking more than one shot of your subject. Firstly, if conditions dictate a low shutter speed that is hand-held, multiple exposures increase the chance of you getting a shot that is sharp. Secondly, you can experiment with the composition by either zooming, changing your position, adjusting the elements that you include in the frame, changing the depth of field etc. Thirdly, you can adjust your camera settings to, for example, control highlights or modify colour saturation. Fourthly, through taking more than one exposure of a subject you inevitably think more about it and that often results in a better outcome. There is a downside with multiple exposures (and indeed the general ease of digital) and that is the amount of storage space required for images if you don't ruthlessly cull the "duds". But, that notwithstanding, multiple exposures make a lot of sense.

However, here's the paradox. When I take multiple shots of the same subject I usually find - about nine times out of ten - that my first shot is the best! Is this because I'm an instinctive or intuitive photographer rather than one who thinks long and hard about each shot? Perhaps. And if that's the case why do I still take multiple shots? Well the answer lies in those approximate statistics: every now and again the first shot isn't the one I prefer, or something went wrong with it, and then I'm very grateful for the "duplicates".

From the above you'll gather that I like yesterday's shot over this one. But, I've been taking photographs long enough to know that many people will prefer the one above.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.8mm (60mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Curtain walls and coincidences

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It would be great to believe that the modern world had done with the concept of "good luck", that the superstitious attitude that leads people to waste money on lotteries and other gambling would have gone the way of belief in fairies and the efficacy of a daily dose of castor oil. But no, people queue up to give away money they can often ill afford to lose in the hope - sometimes expectation - of becoming a millionaire.

But the fact is, despite the Enlightenment, despite the rise of modern mathematics and science and despite universal education, many people have only a hazy grasp of concepts such as chance, probablity and coincidence, and frequently fall back on the superstitious beliefs of centuries ago. If only I stick with the same set of numbers, some say, I'm bound to win the lottery one day, while another group are equally convinced of their belief that changing the numbers is a better way to beat the odds. A much smaller group realise that the odds are the same each time you play your numbers, whatever the numbers are. Similarly, many people will accept that the probability of two people sharing the same birthday is 100% when there are 366 people in a room (excluding February 29th birthdays), but will dispute the fact that there is a 99% probablity when there are only 57 people. (For further information on this probability theory paradox see here).

My most recent blog post was about my liking for using glass curtain wall grids in photographs. What a strange coincidence then, that on my next photographic outing (that happened to be in London), I should return with just such an image, a semi-abstract example taken around sunset. Not really. I like the subject, I'd been thinking about it recently, and I was in a city with a multitude of glass boxes, so the fact that I should take such a shot is not at all unlikely: it's simply the sort of coincidence that occurs regularly throughout our lives.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.2mm (48mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.6
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Grids and reflections

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What I consider to be one of my better photographs shows a regular grid of glazing bars holding tinted glass that is reflecting a blue sky and clouds. Glass curtain walls have a certain fascination for me. I appreciate that they are not everyone's cup of tea, but the regularity of the rectangles contrasting with the irregularity of the reflections is someting that I find attractive. This photograph that I took at Canary Wharf, London perfectly exemplifies the appeal to me.

Such reflections, however, are often combined with a glimpse of the interior of the building and when that happens it is the complexity that I like; the difficulty discerning just what it is that I'm looking at definitely has its attraction. I've posted images of this kind of effect before too, as in this example at Imperial College, London. I took a further photograph in this vein on a recent visit to King's Lynn, Norfolk. The side of the town's municipal offices are glazed and as I passed by I saw a modern building, the pretty lead spire of the medieval church of St Nicholas, and a tree reflected in it. But the reflection was not perfect and through the glass I could see the zig-zag of stairs connecting the floors with people going up and down them. Its a shot that I find pleasingly confusing.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Blue glass and anonymity

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There's quite a lot to dislike about the building in today's photograph. It is faceless, it tells us nothing about those who inhabit it, and it allows them to look at us but not us at them. It is the sort of building that might feature in George Orwell's 1984 or Fritz Lang's Metropolis, a place of secret policemen, anonymous bureaucrats or super-rich tycoons. In fact, according to my researches, it is the offices of a company that owns a chunk of the British media including the Daily Express, the Daily Star, and Channel 5 TV - the populist end of the market, and in terms of the newspapers, the conservative end.

But, having said that, buildings are inanimate objects, and though they can influence society and contribute to our quality of life, they are not "political" in the sense that we usually understand the term. I seem to recall that before the building was acquired by its present owners HSBC had offices here. And, whilst I can see things I don't like about the building, there are a couple of things that I do like. The first is the colour. Towers with curtain walls of blue glass are commonplace - More London, near the Assembly building, is a nearby example. This glass, however, is darker than usual, and that gives the building a weight and solidity that lighter coloured glass cannot offer. Moreover, with those qualities comes a greater emphasis on the surface and the blocks that comprise its overall shape. I like the way the architect has put these together, and the way the reflections in the glass repeat the blocky projections adding to the apparent complexity of the structure.

This building stands next to the Thames, and today's photograph was taken from the riverside path that runs past both it and its next door neighbour, Old Billingsgate Market. When you look at it from across the river it stands out from the buildings around it on colour alone. It also offers a fine grid of distorted reflections, and when lit by yellow internal lights at night looks quite stunning. On the day I took this photograph I could see only two lights on in the building. In my photograph they look like the sort under which someone - an overworked editor perhaps! - is getting the "third degree" treatment.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Towers of power

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Some architectural historians would have us believe that the first building with a glass curtain wall was Oriel Chambers in Liverpool, built in 1864 by the architect Peter Ellis. Others point to the large Victorian conservatories and glass buildings such as the Crystal Palace. But, whilst some of them may technically exhibit the features of such a design - a metal frame from which the windows hang, and external walls that are not structural entities supporting the building  - the first archetypal glass curtain walled building was surely Walter Gropius' Bauhaus at Dessau, Germany, built in 1925-6.

One of the things I've always found interesting about the arts and crafts institute that was the Bauhaus, is the fact that it was peopled by staff who were labelled subversives, Communists and anti-Germans. In fact, it was on those grounds that it was closed down. The truth is that the Bauhaus staff didn't support the neo-realism and imperialist style (a sort of stripped down classicism) that was favoured by the German state of the 1930s. Consequently, many dispersed across the world, to Britain, and more especially, to the United States, where they could build in the way they wanted. And it was there that the curtain wall really took off. Not, however, as an architecture for liberal, left-leaning, social democrats, but as the faceless monoliths of "red in tooth and claw" capitalism. The rest, as they say, is history. Today the glass curtain wall is found in the centre of every major city of the world, its reflective surface symbolizing power, wealth, and the discreet anonymity of the people who drive our financial and commercial empires.

The example in today's photograph is in Canary Wharf, London. I came upon it towards the end of the day as the sun was setting behind patchy cloud. As I looked up at it the building revealed nothing about who worked there and what they did. The visual connect between those inside and passers-by was one way only: they could see me but I wasn't allowed to see them. We used to think that the "iced cake" style tower blocks of the old Soviet Union, with their endlessly repeated window bands epitomised anonymous power. However, I think buildings such as the one in today's photograph do it so much more efficiently. And they do it whilst wearing a reflection that makes them  look like they are part of our world.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting the world

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I don't know the first architect who used mirror glass in a curtain wall, but I imagine he felt pretty pleased with himself! The idea of a wall that appears almost intangible, that reflects its surroundings in a grid, that conveys a sense of lightness or even weightlessness, is very appealing. It makes possible buildings that change their appearance according to the time of day, state of the weather and the particular season. Yes, when the first building that made this possible went up the architectural profession must have clapped its collective hands in delight. I've seen buildings with mirrored walls that look elegant and ethereal, that cause you to stop and stare.

However, there is also a sense in which mirror-wall buildings are a major cop out. They are "easy". They let the architect dispense with the usual problem of how to treat the exterior of a structure. There's no agonising over windows and walls because in this type of building they are the same. The problem of whether to use steel, concrete, brick, tiles, or any of the dozens of other finishes is redundant - the answer is always reflective glass. Yes, the design of the glazing bars is an issue, but a small one. Maybe that's why tinted glass became the vogue - architects wanted bring more personal expression to this genre, and the use of colour reintroduces aesthetic judgement. And, as the buildings glazed in these ways have proliferated architects have sought to introduce yet more variety to prevent the same, now boring, look being repeated everywhere. Today's photograph is of one such variation. It shows the wall above the main entrance of some offices in Peterborough. The reflective glass wall angles in and out, and in so doing presents a less usual reflection of its surroundings. Downward facing angles reflect the pavement, and upward facing angles reflect the trees and sky. I noticed this as I passed, and took this photograph of the effect. I'm the person reflected in the upper band of glass!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 21mm (42mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off