Norman architecture, Melbourne, Derbyshire

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Too many writers and architectural historians damn Norman (Romanesque) architecture with faint praise. Because they look at it alongside the principal phases of Gothic architecture, styles that are later in date, more architecturally inventive and refined, and the sources that Victorian Gothicists usually used as their source of inspiration, they find Norman architecture wanting. I've never shared that view, being able to recognise in the style qualities that I find admirable and interesting.
Where detractors see crudity I see primitive vigour, where they see overpowering mass I see grounded strength, "savage" ornament and sculpture is, to my eyes, sturdy, dramatic, even dynamic. Norman architecture should not be judged by the absence of Gothic qualities but for its own elementary and evolving features that give it a grandeur of a different kind from that seen in Gothic architecture.

Today's photograph shows a view along the nave of Melbourne church in Derbyshire. It dates from the 1100s is much larger and grander than most Norman parish churches, but illustrates the sturdy nature of the style very well. The large, cylindrical columns, shallowly carved scallop capitals, rounded arches with heavy moulding and zig-zag , and the simple tub font on four squat columns, can all be seen elsewhere in parish churches, but not too frequently all in the same church. The rounded arches, of course, only allow a narrow nave and aisles, narrow windows, and a relatively short distance between the supporting columns: pointed Gothic arches enabled wider spans in churches.  Consequently Norman parish churches churches tend to be darker than their Gothic counterparts. Here the church is well-lit because the day was very bright. The barn-like roof, incidentally, dates from the 1500s.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Font and Nave, Melbourne church, Derbyshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9mm (18mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: 0 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

Worcester Cathedral, tripods and good enough

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I've photographed in churches for forty years or so. I began with an SLR, a rangefinder camera, a variety of films and a tripod. Today I'm shooting with a couple of DSLRs, a compact camera and I rarely use a tripod. What liberation the higher ISOs and image stabilisation of today's cameras have conferred on the photographer! Not only are you less burdened by the weight of a tripod, you get in people's way much less. Moreover, in locations such as the cathedral shown in today's photograph, you don't get someone asking if your photographs are for commercial purposes.

In the minds of many the equation "tripod = professional photography" still exists. And, while it's true that many people who actively and purposely seek to produce saleable pictures do use a tripod to get the sharpest image and the required depth of field, there are many instances where that goal can be achieved with a hand-held shot. However, the interior of a cathedral during the late afternoon of a dark day at the end of November isn't one of them. To get a sharp shot with a decent depth of field a tripod is a great help. But, if, as here, you are looking for a "good enough" image, then a wide aperture, a higher ISO and image stabilisation can produce the goods. What appealed to me about this shot was the contrast between the areas of dark and light, and the different colours that the incandescent, fluorescent, LED and natural lighting added to the scene.

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: 640
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Tewkesbury Abbey stylistic juxtapositions

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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

Out with the LX3, in with the RX100

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Perhaps I was tempting fate posting a piece entitled "In praise of things compact" because shortly after I'd done so my LX3 compact camera began, first to play up and then to enter a process of serious decline. Whether the fault is mechanical or electrical I don't know, but the symptoms involve me pressing the shutter, the camera appearing to go through the appropriate motions, and nothing being recorded. Or the display doesn't work. Or an error message appears asking me to re-insert the memory card. I tried a different card and cleaned the battery terminals and card connectors but to no avail. At the point where the camera was sometimes working but usually failing to do so I decided enough was enough and bought a Sony RX100.

I like to use a compact camera, and despite having an initial aversion to those cameras that didn't have viewfinders I've grown to like composing on a large screen. The Sony's is supposed to be fairly acceptable in bright summer sunshine. We shall see! The RX100 will become my "carry everywhere when I'm not carrying the DSLR" camera. It is eminently suited to that role being slightly smaller and lighter than the LX3. It will also be the camera of choice when I'm photographing in the street because it is much less intrusive and intimidating than a big DSLR.

So far I'm very pleased with the RX100. I'm especially enjoying the two axis electronic level - great for architecture and it reduces post processing time. I also like the facility to take a single shot that combines three versions to reduce noise and improve quality: that's very useful inside poorly lit churches. Most of all, I've been impressed by the quality of jpeg and RAW images: that one inch sensor does better than I imagined it would. Not for nothing is it only one of two fixed lens compact cameras that Alamy has on its recommended camera list (the other being the Leica X1). I gave the camera a workout recently, testing its iAuto modes, and as part of it I visited the medieval church of St Mary at Pinchbeck. Here are two of the shots I took that I've converted to black and white.

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
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Crude but effective

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In my very first paid job I worked with a man who often described makeshift engineering work as "crude but effective". It's his phrase that always comes to mind when I gaze upon the nave roof timbers of the church of St Mary at Swineshead, Lincolnshire. The roofs of English medieval churches are well known for their structural timbers. Often these are ingenious, functional, elaborate, inventive and ornate. The angel roofs of St Wendreda at March, Cambridgeshire, and All Hallows, Dean in Bedfordshire, both exemplify the latter quality in particular. Victorian timber roofs are often well made too, and the work that the restorers of the nineteenth century did on older roofs is frequently very sensitive, retaining the essentials of the medieval carpenter's craft whilst replacing wood that has succumbed to death watch beetle and rot, and adding metal bracing as required.

However, sometimes I gaze upon a medieval timber roof that is severely functional and think that it has many of the qualities that might be seen in a great barn of the same age. Ornate has been eschewed in favour of utility giving a rustic feel to the whole enterprise. The roof of Swineshead church has some of those qualities. It perhaps comes from the use of timbers that retain something of the shape of the original tree trunk or limb. These irregularly shaped pieces catch the eye and suggest that either thrift or a "good enough" spirit underpinned the making of the roof. The roof was restored by Wilfred Bond in 1925.

At Swineshead the roof retains its original, steeply pitched, form (see photograph in yesterday's post). So many English church roofs were lowered to a very shallow pitch in the fifteenth century, to be hidden behind parapets, often invisible from ground level. This was done to stop the downward creep of the lead covering that became the favoured roof finish; unsurprising really in the country that was Europe's premier producer of lead. All of which makes me wonder just what is the age of the main timbers in the nave roof? Pevsner notes that the north aisle has a fifteenth century roof: are parts of the main roof earlier still?

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 1600
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Romanesque and Gothic at Tewkesbury

click photo to enlarge

Today's photograph shows the interior of the nave of Tewkesbury Abbey, Gloucestershire. A Saxon abbey founded c.715AD was the first building on this site, but nothing of it remains today. The present church is a Norman foundation of the eleventh century with most of the structure dating from the 1100s, a little from the 1200s, the ambulatory chapels and vaulting the 1300s, and small areas elsewhere of more recent dates.

Looking at the photograph we can see that the drum piers (columns), the rounded arches and the triforium (dark passage with light shining from it) are of the Norman (or Romanesque) period. They were complete by the time of the abbey's consecration in the 1120s and are characteristically heavy compared with the lighter appearance of the later Gothic style. For the student of architectural history there are two particular points of interest in this photograph. Firstly, the piers are relatively tall and plain, a regional characteristic of the Norman style whilst the triforium is quite small, almost insignificant compared with most similar buildings of the period (compare with this example at Peterborough Cathedral). The second thing to note is that the vaulting of both the aisles and the nave dates from 1330-1350, what is stylistically called the Decorated period of Gothic architecture.

The rounded arches of the Norman period were poor at spanning spaces as wide as a nave and consequently most Norman naves had flat timber ceilings, rather than stone vaulting. However, the narrower aisles were often covered with tunnel or groin vaulting. Here at Tewkesbury the Norman nave had no clerestory so the present one was inserted in the fourteenth century when the lierne vaulting of the nave and the quadripartite with ridge ribs vaulting of the aisles was built. To anyone who visits large churches regularly the Gothic vaulting on Romanesque piers looks odd. It also accounts for the half-hidden and relatively ineffectiveness of the clerestory which was squeezed in and then partly obscured by the springing of the vaulting. However, in the middle ages, as today, architects were keen to build in a contemporary way, and the idea of building vaulting or a clerestory in 1340 in a style from over one hundred years earlier was thought ridiculous, just as building today in the manner of the late Victorians would be. It would, wouldn't it?

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 2500
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Harrington church and S.S. Teulon

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My interest in church architecture leads me to read a lot about the architects of the Victorian period: the major names of the nineteenth century such as Scott, Pearson, Street, Butterfield etc, but also the second rank of practitioners and the lesser lights too. The other day, following a visit to the church of St Mary at Harrington, Lincolnshire, I was delving into my books to find out more about Samuel Sanders Teulon (1812-1873). I'd always known of him because he was one of Harry Goodhart-Rendel's "rogues" i.e.one of the architects who departed drastically from the mainstream Gothic of the time, and injected their own whim, fancy and personal vision into their country houses and churches. I recall too seeing his estate cottages at Sunk Island, East Yorkshire, and his individualistic churches dotted about in Lincolnshire at places such as New Bolingbroke, Riseholme and Burringham. However, when I read about the extent of his practice and the number of commissions he worked on, I felt as I often do when reviewing the work of these men - exhausted.

It's hard to imagine how the successful Victorian architects juggled their commissions. Yes, they had assistants and trainees, but the sheer weight and range of commissions that came to someone like Teulon is staggering. And that doesn't take into account the amount of church restorations, rebuildings and extensions that many undertook. Harrington church was a rebuild by Teulon of a medieval structure, but such an extensive rebuild that little of the old work remains. So, given his reputation for dazzling polychrome brickwork, weird gables, tall towers, complex silhouettes, a style that some admired and others called "illiterate", what characterises Teulon's work here. The word that comes to my mind is "boring." It is a greenstone church with little to distinguish it from others. Inside the building its painted plasterwork, pulpit, windows and roof are all too typical of a Victorian church. The building disappoints because it displays neither novelty or a respect for the original building. The fact that I'd visited Harrington twice before and could remember nothing of it says it all.

But, from a photographic standpoint, the light on the day of my most recent visit was strong and Teulon's painted walls reflected it around the interior giving it quite a nice glowing quality. So I composed this asymmetrical shot looking down the nave, past the "wine glass" pulpit to the "Geometrical" east window.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 500
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Inside Norwich Cathedral

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In a recent post I was a little less than complimentary about the exterior of Norwich Cathedral. Today's post shows two views of the inside of the building, the part of the building that impressed me greatly.

There are a number of architectural historians and afficionados of medieval architecture who are somewhat dismissive of Norman work. I have a feeling this stems from the nineteenth century revival of Gothic when the consensus seemed to be that the Early English and Decorated periods were the summit of achievement, Perpendicular was (in many respects) a sign of decline, and Norman was the barbarous phase before the invention of the pointed arch. Today many people have got past that point of view and can see virtue in the heavy massing, solidity, and simple, sometimes rather naive looking decoration of the style.

There's no doubt that the small windows, narrow arches and deeply cut moulding of Norman architecture gives shadow and drama that the photographer can exploit. My first image was taken in the apsidal ambulatory that wraps around the east end of the cathedral. Rounded apses with chapels are a French idea that isn't found in too many English cathedrals (there were more, but they have been re-modelled). The English taste was for a square east end that may have suited the liturgy better, or may simply been a matter of aesthetic choice, but with a square design the vistas are definitely not as interesting. The second shot shows the nave looking east from towards the west end. Norman cathedral naves in England invariably have wooden ceilings. This is because rounded masonry arches are unable span such wide distances in the way that pointed arches can. Where there is a vaulted masonry ceiling above a Norman nave (as there is at Norwich) it is invariably a later substitution (in this case after a fire of 1463).

The lighting in the cathedral on a dull day challenged the capacities of a hand-held LX3, but, apart from a slightly HDR look to the shot of the nave (partly due to the lighting) I think it acquitted itself quite well.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1 (Photo 2)
Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/25 (1/30)
ISO: 800 (400)
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Pinchbeck

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Pinchbeck near Spalding in Lincolnshire doesn't take its name from the alloy of zinc and copper used as imitation gold, nor does it derive from the inventor of that metal, Christopher Pinchbeck (c. 1670-1732), the famous London clockmaker. His invention caused "pinchbeck", in the nineteenth century, to become a synonym for cheap and tawdry. However, his unusual surname makes it quite likely that some of his ancestors came from the Lincolnshire village. In the Domesday Book (1086) Pinchbeck is called Pincebec. Later spellings include Pyncebeck and Pincebek, suggesting that the name is a compound of the Old English pinc (minnow) and the Old Norse bekkr (beck or stream). Whether or not the stream that flows through Pinchbeck is still noted for its minnows I don't know!

The church of St Mary is the oldest building in the village. It has some re-used zigzag and billet moulding suggesting that a Norman (C11 and C12) church stood here. What we see today is a big church with a sturdy, finely proportioned tower (though it now leans somewhat) of the C14 and C15. This has a beautiful west doorway with an ogee arch with fleurons and much cusping. The exterior of the building is mainly fourteenth and fifteenth century, but inside is older. The nave arcades (see above) were probably heightened when the church was enlarged, but they mainly date from the C13. At the west end the exceedingly tall tower arch is C14. Much of the eye-catching roof is original, probably C15, with tie-beams and hammerbeams alternating, the latter having large angel figures (for another angel roof see here). The whole structure was restored by the eminent Victorian architect , George Butterfield, in 1855-64. He did a good job, making sensitive repairs and additions to the structure.

My photograph is a view of the nave from in the chancel. Behind me at the east end is the high altar. However, as is common today with the smaller congregations of churches, another altar has been set up at the east end of the nave near the pulpit. I usually make a shot into the nave, from beyond the chancel arch, a strictly symmetrical composition. However, here I went for asymmetry and stood to one side. Despite it being early February the light inside the church was excellent for three reasons: the south aisle and clerestory windows are clear glass, the sun was shining, and the churchyard still had a reasonable covering of snow that was acting as my photographic reflector, illuminating the building and, particularly, the roof and its old timbers.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/19
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -1.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Lichfield Cathedral

click photo to enlarge
I've been doing some decorating of the house recently, although to be more accurate I should say that I've been helping my wife to do it, she being the one who takes the lead in such things. It's only when you do something like this that you realise how fond builders are of approximation. Hang wallpaper and you notice that walls are sometimes very slightly off vertical. Laying floor tiles can lead to the discovery that what you thought was a rectangular room is actually a touch rhomboidal. Tiny imprecisions of this sort don't matter a geat deal in a house, where the rooms are relatively small, vistas are limited, and ones eyes don't often line up one surface or edge against another.

However, in a big building, such as a medieval church, and particularly a cathedral, if you don't get the floor plan right, if lines are not laid correctly, if right angles are a degree or two wrong, then once the building is completed these imperfections are magnified. And, at that point it's a couple of hundred years later, and taking it all down and rebuilding it straight isn't really an option. Such is the case at Lichfield Cathedral in Staffordshire. The earliest building on the site dated from about 700A.D. Nothing of that remains, and little of its Norman succesor of the C12 is to be seen either. However, the Gothic structure that was built from the 1200s onwards is still very much in evidence, though repaired down the centuries after damage from neglect, falling towers, and the fighting of the Civil War. It was the Gothic masons, it seems, who got the nave and chancel out of line (though they may have been building on the foundations of the Normans). Stand in the nave, as I did for the photograph above, and the leftward lurch of the chancel is evident. So too are the leaning nave piers. Further collapse was averted by the architect, James Wyatt, in the late eighteenth century, by the expedient of replacing the 500 tons of stone nave vaulting with lighter lath and plasterwork in the style of vaulting.

Imperfections aside, I think you'll agree that the view inside Lichfield, with its forest of verticals (and almost verticals) reaching their climax in the pointed arches and vaulting ribs, is magnificent.

photograph & text (c) T.Boughen

Camera: Olympus E500
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 27mm (54mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/5
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A

The oldest parts of a church

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Over the years, knowing my interest in ecclesiastical architecture, many people have asked me which part of a church is usually the oldest. It's a question with several answers. In most instances it's the chancel, the nave arcades, the font, the tower or fragments of sculpture that provide the most ancient material. But there are always (and many) exceptions.

The chancel is often the oldest part because that is where the builders of a church often started - with the place that holds the high altar. However, most of England's churches were enlarged as the country's population grew. So, chancels were sometimes renewed, aisles added, and the height of the nave increased. When this happened the nave arcades of the earlier building were often kept and the extensions were built around them. In some parts of England, particularly the north-west, where a lack of wealth had meant medieval parish churches were often small and poorly constructed, the tower is often the oldest remaining part. This is because when the Industrial Revolution that flourished there in the nineteenth century produced its enormous riches, wealthy individuals and congregations frequently replaced all except the tower with new work. Very often the church font carried on being used through all these upheavals, and in many buildings it is the oldest part. Sometimes, however, it was replaced and the original became a receptacle for flowers in someone's garden! In the village where I live fragments of Saxon carving, presumably from the building that pre-dates the present Norman structure are the oldest evidence to be seen. So, the answer the question has a number of answers.

Today's photograph shows the interior of the church of St John the Baptist at Barnack, Cambridgeshire. Beyond the pierced wooden screen is the chancel that was built around 1300, replacing the original Saxon structure. The columns of the nave arcade on the left have capitals with crockets and volutes of the late 1100s, whilst those on the right are in the fully-fledged stiff-leaf style of twenty or thirty years later. The fine font also looks thirteenth century, though some have suggested the deep bowl may be earlier. However these are not the oldest parts in this building: the strong Saxon tower dates from about 1020, and a sculpture and pieces of carved stone may be of a similar age. So, Barnack church fits the pattern I outlined above, with the oldest elements being those that are usually the oldest in most churches. The one idiosyncracy here is the unique south porch with its steeply pitched stone roof that dates from about 1200. Frequently these porches are later medieval, Georgian or even Victorian additions.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/5
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -1.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off (Tripod used)

New tops on old bottoms

click photo to enlarge
My desk is the same size as many internal doors - 6 feet 6 inches (1.98m) long and 2 feet 6 inches (0.76m) wide. I know this because it is an internal door resting on some small, old, vertical, chests of drawers.

A few years ago I decided I needed a bigger work surface to accommodate my computer and printer that would still leave space to write. Looking around I found plenty of cheap and cheerful small desks, quite a few small and expensive desks, and some large and extremely expensive desks. So, I went back to first principles, decided that I neeed a big flat surface with storage below, and cast around for the materials to supply that need. When I decided I already had the storage a door immediately came to mind. Sapele-faced internal doors were relatively inexpensive, well made, perfectly flat, and ready-varnished. So now I have a big desk that perfectly meets my needs with the added advantage that it can be easily taken apart when required!

What has my tale of a new top on old foundations got to do with today's photograph? Well, my main subject, the font at the west end of the nave of Peterborough Cathedral, is similarly arranged. When the Victorians came to restore the font they wanted to keep the thirteenth century bowl with its sensuous undulations and stiff-leaf carving, but felt it needed better support. So they designed new columns that drew their inspiration from the period of the upper part, and put the whole together. It looks marvellous. A couple of years ago the font was moved into its present position and the flower-like paving was designed to give it emphasis. That was an excellent decision: not only does it draw attention to this delightful object, but it provides wonderful foreground interest for a shot down the length of the nave with its Norman arcades and nave ceiling of c.1220!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Interiors without a tripod

click photo to enlarge
click HERE for full-size image - 3648 X 2736 pixels (2 Mb file)
Many people make the assumption that because I take a lot of photographs I'm interested in cameras. The fact is I'm not. I'm interested in photographs, and cameras only to the extent that they make securing a good image easier. For my needs four things are important - a reasonable price, the ability to finely control the exposure, a reasonably small size for body and lenses, and low light performance.

Price matters because DSLR development hasn't levelled off yet, so replacement and improvement happens more often than it did with film SLRs (and I've got other things I want to spend my money on)! Control of exposure is important because it is the critical factor in securing the image: DSLRs make this easier than most other types of camera. Small size is really critical for me because I walk and cycle a lot with my camera, and the small camera you have with you always secures better images than the (maybe better) bigger camera you leave at home because of its size! Then there's low light performance. Image stabilization is the most significant development for me in recent years. It has allowed me to capture images, particularly of church interiors, that previously I could get only with a tripod. Now, if Olympus could increase its high ISO performance to somewhere near that of the big two manufacturers, I'd be a very happy man because the tripod would become almost redundant.

Today's image is of the interior of the church of St Nicholas, Walcot, Lincolnshire, bathed in the yellow light of the low November sun. The architecture dates from the the 1200s and 1300s, and is notable for the beautiful fourteenth century east window with its flowing tracery, and the carved fifteenth century bench ends. It's an interior that wasn't "scraped" (see yesterday's post). The shot was hand-held at 1/20 second at f6.3, ISO 200. Is it as sharp as it would have been with the camera on a tripod? No, but it's sharp enough to produce a perfectly acceptable A3 print. I've included a slightly compressed (75%) version of the full-size shot for your perusal. It has a little post processing, some noise suppression, but no sharpening. With my old OM1 I never shot at a speed lower than 1/30, and then it was with 400ISO HP5 with the 50mm fully open at f1.8. These days I risk shots at 1/6 second, and am usually quite happy with those taken at 1/15.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/20
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Three questions

click photo to enlarge

The quiz in Saturday's "Guardian" newspaper asked: "Which Gauguin painting poses three questions?" The answer, is of course, "Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?" Or, if you prefer the original: "D'où venons nous? Que sommes-nous? Où allons-nous?" This great work, painted in 1897 in French Polynesia, asks what are, probably, the three most important questions of life.

Some people have seen religion alone as the source of the answers to Gauguin's questions. Others have suggested that history, philosophy and science are the disciplines that can best deal with each one. And there are those who think that history and science together can give us the answers. Ironically, each individual's existing view of life will determine which, if any, of these approaches is deemed the best.

I think history can be a great help in answering the first question. However, history is not an unchanging collection of facts. It is interpretation of the past, and consequently it changes over time, sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically, according to new research, historiography, and the individual historian's views. What doesn't change is the actual artefacts of the past - the things that our ancestors made and which still remain. I like to visit churches because, besides being places of worship, they are tangible records of the past, offering a marvellous combination of social history, architecture, art, and crafts. And, whilst one can read about the past, it only truly comes alive when you look at, touch and experience it through that which remains. So, a church like St Mary at Weston, Lincolnshire (above), shows us not only the wonderfully ornate stiff-leaf capitals on the columns, a form popular in the early 1200s and categorised as "Early English" by Thomas Rickman (1776-1841) who classified medieval architectural styles, but also the chisel marks of the individuals who carved them eight hundred years ago. And, in so doing our answer to the question, "Where do we come from?" is broadened to include "a past where people toiled at seemingly pointless tasks because they knew the power of beauty, and believed it would help them to achieve eternal life."

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.2
Shutter Speed: 1/13
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On