Chairs and visual connections

click photo to enlarge

As a child I used to see faces in the front of motor vehicles. The headlights were eyes, the radiator grilles were mouths and the often prominent maker's badge represented the nose. Sometimes the wing mirrors managed to suggest ears. I have the feeling that the car designs of the 1950s and 1960s prompted my imaginings in a way that the designs of today wouldn't. Or perhaps, underneath all this, is the primitive ability and necessity of quickly recognising faces because your life may depend on it. Maybe that's something that is stronger in childhood, but declines as you age. What I do know is that these sort of visual connections work at an unconscious level and come upon you when you least expect it.

The other day we passed an old watermill that also houses a cafe. Outside were tables and chairs for the use of customers who fancied their coffee and cake en plein air. Rather optimistic, I thought, given the fact that rain and unseasonally low temperatures have been an almost daily feature of recent weeks. Most of the chairs and tables were the sort of thing one can see anywhere. But the examples shown in today's photograph attracted my attention because they seemed to be the outdoor equivalent of a bar table and stools. The elongated legs of the trio made them look different and slightly odd. They also prompted one of those unconscious visual connections. As soon as I saw them I thought of Salvador Dali's elephants in "The Temptation of St Anthony"! I think it's the fact that if you cut the legs down to size they would be like any other table and chairs, just as Dali's surreal elephants would become much more "normal" with regular legs.

I took the photograph because tables and chairs often provide visual interest in the form of strong, interesting outlines and, if the sun shines, shadows that reveal more about their structure. The backdrop of old bricks, steps and railings seemed to add to the image too.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 65mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Elephants in England

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The first elephant that was brought to England during historic times came in the Roman invasion of AD43, and is noted as being at Colchester. No further records of elephants in these islands exist until 1255 when Louis IX of France gave Henry III one for his menagerie that was housed at the Tower of London. Matthew Paris drew this animal for inclusion in his bestiary, and a contemporary carving of it can be seen on a misericord at Exeter Cathedral.

It is unlikely that too many elephants found their way across the English Channel during the Middle Ages, but the beast certainly became known through bestiaries similar to Matthew Paris's. These volumes collected drawings and writing about real and mythical animals. In particular they described the peculiar features of each animal, and what they symbolised. Church sculptors, painters, carvers and glaziers, as well as illustrators and writers made extensive use of these descriptions. Thus, the pelican represented Christ's sacrifice because it was said to peck its own breast and feed its offspring with its own blood, and can frequently be seen in church fittings doing just this. The Christian triumph over death and Christ's resurrection were associated with the phoenix, the mythical bird that rose from the dead in flames. Elephants often had a long entry in bestiaries, and were illustrated in warlike postures with small castles (howdahs) on their backs. They were described as intelligent, with a prodigious memory, gentle, afraid of mice, and protective of their comrades. However, this particular animal is more often associated with eastern religions than Christianity, though occasionally they can be seen in churches trampling snakes and representing Christ overcoming death and evil.

Today's photograph shows an elephant gargoyle on the church of St Peter & St Paul, Gosberton, Lincolnshire. It is the only gargoyle that I know in this form, and is contemporary with the tower which probably dates from the late 1300s. Did the people who carved this head ever see a real elephant? It's unlikely, but they would have been familiar with its illustration in the bestiaries, the inspiration for many of their grotesque and fantastic gargoyle faces. The lead spout formed into the animal's trunk catches one's eye when you look upwards, and probably dates from the church's Victorian restoration. However, I like to think that it was the medieval sculptors who first fitted one when they placed the head here as the exit for water draining from the top of the tower.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1600
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On