Lichfield Cathedral choir

click photo to enlarge
To the layman the word "choir" has one meaning, namely a group of people who sing collectively. To anyone interested in architecture, particularly that of churches and cathedrals, it has a further meaning - the part of the church in which the divine service is sung by the choir. Thus it refers to a space rather than people. Usually this is in the chancel near the high altar. Quite often the terms chancel and choir are used interchangeably.

Today's photograph shows the gate that leads from the eastern end of the crossing tower into the choir of Lichfield Cathedral in Staffordshire. Anyone who has visited a number of English cathedrals will know that the richest decoration of such buildings is usually to be found in the chancel and around the high altar. This is the case at Lichfield. However, when I saw the choir and the ornate gates they struck me as exceptionally rich for the British context. This partly due to the efforts of the Victorians who favoured concentrations of colour, shiny metal and paint far more than did most post-medieval churchmen.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Choir, Lichfield Cathedral, Staffordshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV

Gedney church door

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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

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

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

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

Boston under leaden skies

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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

Winter churchyard, Long Sutton

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Lincolnshire has many notable medieval churches, and those of the Fens are particularly remarkable. They were built with the money from wool, and as you travel from one to the other you have the feeling that the parishes of the time each sought to outdo the other in terms of size, ornament, or inventiveness. Many of the churches have a feature that distinguishes it from its neighbours, be it the tower, the window tracery, the woodwork of nave and chancel, the carving of capitals, etc

In the case of St Mary in the large village of Long Sutton the size of the church impresses, as does the thirteenth century tower that was originally completely detached from the nave, and the Norman columns and arcades are unexpected after seeing the later exterior. However, the stand out feature of this church today is the tall lead-covered timber spire (in herringbone pattern) with its four lead-covered pinnacles, all of which are said to be the oldest in the country, dating from the early 1200s.

I took my photograph on a damp January afternoon with the remains of autumn's leaves decaying by the gravesides and the skeletal trees allowing a better view from the west than is possible when they are in leaf.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Mary, Long Sutton, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Messy and tidy churches

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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

Lichfield Cathedral is number 2...

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... in terms of popularity on this blog. On a few occasions I have reviewed my hit counter and noted, in particular, the most popular posts and photographs, and the countries that produce the most hits. Ever since I first did this my blog post showing the nave of Lichfield Cathedral in Staffordshire has been second in popularity. By a large margin, I must say, from the third most popular, and considerably behind the number one post. I don't propose to list all these again, but I do still wonder what makes Lichfield's cathedral a relative magnet for visitors.

This particular English cathedral is a bit of an oddity in that its two west towers have tall spires, as does its crossing tower: cathedrals with three big spires are very unusual in England. It's also true to say that Lichfield isn't one of the "big" cathedrals in terms of size, popularity, architectural beauty and significance, or visitor numbers. It lags well behind the likes of Canterbury, Westminster, Lincoln, York, Durham etc. And maybe that accounts for it. Perhaps, on the world wide web, Lichfield has fewer photographs and articles than many other cathedrals and therefore the ones that do exist attract relatively more hits.

This photograph of the nave taken on my recent visit is from a slightly different position compared with my earlier effort. And this time I looked very carefully before I pressed the shutter and checked that there wasn't a box in the foreground! I took my shot with a 16:9 aspect ratio in mind to remove some of the nearest seats and give greater emphasis to the repeated verticals of the columns, piers and arches.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:3200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fourteenth century door, Southwell

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In medieval Gothic architecture an arch that is convex below and convex above and sweeps up to a sharp, tapered point is very characteristic of the fourteenth century. Such a form became fashionable at that time and appeared in window tracery, tomb canopies, blind tracery, door surrounds, wooden doors and much else. It is called the "ogee" arch and such an arch is described as "ogival". Another term used to describe this "S" shaped moulding is "cyma recta".

We visited Southwell Minster in Nottinghamshire recently. It is a relatively small major church, cathedral-like, and is mainly of the twelfth century (Norman period) and thirteenth century (Early English period). As we entered the building through the north porch I stopped to admire the wooden doors through which we were about to pass. They were so clearly fourteenth century, very sculptural, and so well lit that I had to photograph them. The sinuous moulding that decorated the surface had ogee forms at the top and bottom of each cell indicating its date. However, that pattern, very like a net pulled taut, also suggested the fourteenth century. It too has a specific name: architectural historians call it reticulated (meaning net-like) tracery. Within each shape I could make out the worn forms of quatrefoils, four-leafed shapes also much used in Gothic architecture.

It was clear that the door had survived because of the shelter from the weather that the large, vaulted porch provided. However, the wear of everyday use over a period of seven hundred years was evident in the worn mouldings, splits, knocks and gouges. Sometimes on such doors the metal-work is also original, frequently worn very thin through long use. Many of the large headed nails looked as though they dated from the time of the door's construction. But, the door handle, though rusted and marked, hadn't the wear of centuries and it is probably a Victorian replacement.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/15 sec
ISO:2000
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographic and architectural contrasts

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It would be hard to find a greater architectural and photographic contrast than is exhibited in the last post and that of today. A large, angular, urban, twenty-first century health centre made of concrete and steel is just about as distant as you can get from a late 1300s, timber-framed, rural manor house with a later fifteenth century gatehouse and moat.

The photographic treatment adds to the contrast. Black and white, I think, suits the modern building. However, when I idly looked at a monochrome version of the shot above it simply confirmed my opinion that I had to stick with colour despite the "chocolate box" character that it gives to the subject. I recently commented on how, when you visit a place for the first and perhaps only time, you have to accept the weather and light that prevails. Here it was shortly after 10.00am on a June morning with scarcely any cloud in sight when we came upon Lower Brockhampton manor house in Herefordshire. Consequently the light was bright and sharp and the colours vibrant. This house is a subject I'd like to tackle on a slightly misty autumn morning with some brightness and cloud. Or perhaps a bright, late spring evening when clouds pick up a yellow tint from the low sun. As it was the strong white of the paint over the timber-framed walls had to be controlled by under-exposure, and a bit of post-processing was required to get the whole scene back to the brightness levels that my eye saw.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6 Shutter Speed: 1/1600 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Holy Trinity, Hull

click photo to enlarge
Holy Trinity, Hull, is one of those medieval churches that should be much better known. Its absence from lists of renowned churches is probably due to its location in a city that, for people south of Watford, is imagined to to be a depressed northern backwater. In fact, it sits near the ancient heart of an old settlement, one that had and continues to have national importance, and which still retains many fine historic buildings in a very distinctive and different kind of urban setting. The church of Holy Trinity would grace any city, and were it in the home counties, would be feted and a major visitor attraction.

So, what does the building, erected between 1285 and the mid-1500s, offer. Firstly it is big (length 285ft/87m, width 72ft/22m, height 150ft/46m), often described as the biggest English parish church by area, bigger in fact than some small cathedrals. The size gives grandeur and awe to the interior, and the painted ceilings are spectacular. Then there is the transept walls and the lower stage of the crossing tower. These were built of brick in the 1300s, a very early use of this material in the medieval period, and said to be the first use of brick for a large building in Britain since the time of the Romans. The tower itself is a particularly fine example of the Perpendicular style and still able to hold its own against more recent tall buildings in the city. Finally there is the west front that overlooks the Market Place. It too is an exceptional piece of work, well-proportioned, symmetrical with good window tracery and a lovely entrance doorway. It has to be said that the setting of the church adds to its appeal. Around it are narrow streets, the old Market Place, the newer (1902-4) Market Hall, the old Grammar School (also brick, 1583-5), Trinity House, and a host of Victorian and earlier buildings.

The January day on which I took my photograph was cold and bright. I liked the way Holy Trinity's tower and the upper parts of the nave, transepts and chancel appeared to rise towards the light out of the deep shadows of the surrounding streets.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (27mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Landscapes and aspect ratios

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After thirty odd years of shooting 35mm film with an aspect ratio of 3:2 I shot with Four Thirds cameras for a few years. These had an aspect ratio of 4:3. To my surprise I found I preferred it to 3:2, particularly for portrait format shots. When you turn a 3:2 camera so that the long side is vertical it seems to me that the aspect ratio doesn't work so well as when it is horizontal (landscape format) - it's simply too tall. There are a few subjects that benefit from a taller shape (and a very few where 16:9 is best) but not too many. I definitely preferred 4:3 in those circumstances. For landscapes, streetscapes and general photography 3:2 was, by and large, fine, but not better than 4:3 and sometimes too long.

Since I've returned to 3:2 with Canon, Nikon and Sony, the three makes I use now, I've generally shot 3:2 and where I've particularly felt it looked wrong (in horizontal or portrait format), I've cropped to 4:3. Today's photograph is a case in point. When I composed the shot I knew I wanted the verticals of the two medieval churches in the shot. However, I also wanted the full width of the street. On a wet day with an overcast sky 3:2 left too much boring grey cloud in the top half of the photograph. Consequently, I shot at 3:2 knowing I would crop to 4:3. Those of you who know the Sony RX100 might wonder why I didn't dive into the menu and set the camera to 4:3. The fact is I find it easier to stick with the same aspect ratio (3:2 is native and the highest resolution) across all the cameras to benefit from a consistent view and maximum pixel dimensions. To do otherwise would be for me, just too confusing, too tedious, and would deny me the best image where 3:2 is the ratio I want.

On the other hand, if Sony had done what Panasonic did with the LX3 (and other LX models), a camera that I owned until it died, and had put the aspect ratios round the lens barrel selected by a click stop switch, then I just might have set 4:3 before shooting.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (54mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  - EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Churches and bowling greens

click photo to enlarge
Speaking of English scenes and John Constable (see yesterday's post), I've often felt that the view in today's photograph represents a certain kind of England. The manicured lawn (itself an English obsession), is actually a bowling green. Now bowls is another English obsession; just about every village has a green, and certainly every town and city has multiple greens. Beyond the example in the photograph are large deciduous trees and hedges that mrk the border between the recreational space of the green and the sacred space of both the churchyard and the medieval church of St Mary and St Nicolas. What makes it even more representative is the fact that the bowling green is part of Ayscoughfee Gardens that surround Ayscoughfee Hall. These are now a museum and park having formerly been the residence of one of the richest and most influential men of the town.

The conversion of the houses of the rich gentry into either public or semi-public spaces is a theme that is commonly found in England, and frequently such buildings and grounds are next to the Anglican church. The twin powers of the local clergy and the state's local representative in the form of the lord of the manor often sat shoulder to shoulder in this way, each buttressing the position and influence of the other and hence the dominance of both. None of this, of course, influenced my decision to take this photograph. Here I was motivated by the lovely late afternoon light, the contrast of the church's stonework against the dark sky, and the long shadows falling across the perfection of the grass.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15.1mm (41mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Tewkesbury Abbey choir vault

click photo to enlarge
I visit a lot of churches, both great and small. And, if the truth be known, I prefer the modest buildings to the great abbeys, minsters and cathedrals. However, if it's awe and wonder you are in search of then one of the best man-made spectacles is to be found in the large churches of the medieval and later periods. More specifically, in the elaborate, often beautiful vaulting that supports their great ceilings.

In England there are many examples that take your breath away, and some that offer a variety of examples of the mason's art. Peterborough Cathedral has fine work from the twelfth century and beautiful fan vaults of the 1400s and early 1500s while Gloucester Cathedral cloister can claim the earliest example of this peculiarly English style. Beverley Minster has vaulting to compete with any church, and Ely Cathedral's vaults in and surrounding the famous octagonal lantern are unparalleled anywhere else. Even lesser known buildings, such as Pershore Abbey, can thrill when we stop, look up and reflect on the stonework above our heads.

Today's photograph shows the lierne vaulting of the 1330s above the choir of Tewkesbury Abbey. It is pretty much as built, though in the fifteenth century the Yorkist badges of the "Sun in Splendour" were added. And, of course, the paintwork has been renewed down the centuries. The two features that make this vaulting so different from any other, and so spectacular, are the extent and colours of the paint, as well as the unusual complexity of the ribs and bosses. When I visit this abbey I never fail to stop and look up at this beautiful spider's web that keeps the roof from falling on my head.

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:1100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Clink

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English has several slang words for prison, terms such as "nick" and "glasshouse". Two of this list of words derive from the names of actual prisons. One such is "Bridewell". This was originally one of Henry VIII's residences that was given to the City of London becoming first, an orphanage, then a women's prison. Later it became a poorhouse and prison. The building was demolished in the 1860s but not before its name had become one of the generic terms for prison.

The other actual prison name that attained this generic status was The Clink in Southwark on London's south bank. Its origins are said to date from as early as 1151 and it continued in use until 1780 when it was burned down in the Gordon Riots. Today a visitor attraction that recreates something of this medieval prison can be found on the site of the original Clink on Clink Street near Cannon Street Railway Bridge.

On a recent visit to London we were walking on the south bank and came upon a workman busy with the lighting under one of the arches of the railway bridge that holds the riverside path. The matrix of multi-coloured LEDs works in the shadows of daylight and the darkness of night and adds colour and distinction to this ancient passage-way.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm (45mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO:3600
Exposure Compensation: 0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Walcot church revisited

click photo to enlarge
The church of St Nicholas at Walcot, Lincolnshire, is a favourite of mine. Its exterior leaves something to be desired aesthetically - the tower and spire are too tall for the nave and chancel, the entasis on the former looks a little odd and its broaches are unusually long. But, despite these shortcomings it is interesting and it makes for a prominent landmark in the locality.

However, when it comes to the interior it is a different story. Here the restorers did what was necessary and little more with the result that the medieval work hasn't been altered too much and the Victorian additions don't overpower it. Some would say it looks a little neglected but I welcome the absence of well-meaning tidying, polishing, renovating and prettifying. I like the oddities inside too, particularly the way old capitals were reused as column bases. I don't mind the absence of elaborate memorials and paintwork. And I welcome the "knocked about a bit" look of the pews. It's a rural church serving a small collection of farms and houses, and its sparse interior reflects the small population that services it.

On a recent walk I photographed a distant view of the church among the red tiled houses and agricultural buildings. When we went in to the church I took a view of the nave and chancel. As I took both of these photographs I had in mind two previous shots I've posted of the same subjects and it was with a view to comparison that I took the second set. Different seasons, different weather and different light have produced different shots. I prefer the earlier pair I think, so next time we are passing my aim will be to take photographs that better them.

photographs and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (27mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:1600
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The colours of stone

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One of the pleasures of visiting medieval churches is not only admiring what the medieval masons and sculptors did with the stone, but appreciating their choice of stone. "Country" stone, that is to say the local stone, is the choice of many churches for obvious reasons. However, churches in areas lacking building stone as well as larger buildings such as abbeys and cathedrals frequently sourced specialist stone from more distant locations - perhaps Caen in France, the isle of Portland, or the quarries at Barnack, or at Ancaster in Lincolnshire..

Time always shows whether builders chose well. I've seen churches with stone that has been crumbling for centuries and others where the mark of axe, saw and chisel are almost as clear as the day the block was first shaped. But, good building stone was not always available and the masons had to make do with what was supplied. Sometimes the local discolourations of a stone mean that the building takes on a patchwork hue, especially when a restorer has sourced original stone with which to make repairs. This example at Horncastle in Lincolnshire exemplifies that.

At Great Malvern Priory in Worcestershire multiple hues are evident in the stonework of the fine tower. The reds, browns, greys and creams reflect the geology of the area. The number of colours is multiplied by fresh-looking replacements sitting next to worn and weathered pieces and is complemented on the north side by the green of lichen. The colours greatly add to the charm of the building. I noted them the first time I visited the building fifteen or so years ago, and I determined to photograph them on a visit we made the other day.

© Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 122mm (183mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:250 Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographing St Botolph

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A shopping expedition to Boston, Lincolnshire, when the day's appearance said spring, but the air temperature and wind said the end of winter, found me, not for the first time, pointing my compact camera at the tower of the medieval parish church of St Botolph. And what a tower it is. Many towns and cities are defined and remembered by a noteworthy building and as far as Boston goes this is the one. As I've mentioned elsewhere it is also known by the nickname, "The Stump". Its tower is an oddity of Gothic architecture. The medieval masons started building upwards and just kept on going. When you look at the layers that are piled one on the other it appears that a spire may have been contemplated at one point but then they rejected that conventional topping to the tower. Up and up it went until finally they decided to top it with a pierced, octagonal lantern.

Since that time "The Stump"
has been synonymous with the town, a beacon for ships approaching the port and a marker for weary travellers crossing the flat Fenland hinterland. When you walk around the town the tower rises above the roof tops allowing you to orientate yourself. Only when you go into the market place or nearby across the River Witham do the nave and chancel, themselves almost of cathedral scale but small relative to the tower, make an appearance. The classic photograph of St Botolph is from the town bridge. The appearance of a new "bow-string" design footbridge has changed that view somewhat and on my recent visit to the town I took a shot of the bridge and the tower, though not from the town bridge. Another photograph that suggested itself to me was the tower rising from the blossom of a cherry tree that grows in the lawned precinct immediately adjoining the church. However, the shot I took on Church Street, a location where I've photographed before, is the one I like best. It has the name of a pub - The Britannia - and a couple of promotional union flags, in the foreground, with the tower beyond. I liked the contrast of the bright red with the distant stonework.

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