Peacocks beautiful, proud and noisy

click photo to enlarge
The Indian Peafowl, the male of which is commonly known as the peacock, is one of the avian world's most brightly coloured members. The electric blue of its body and the iridescent blues and greens of the "eyes" of its tail are very striking. The peacock's shape and the details of its tail have been used in art and design down the centuries, in Europe particularly during the period of Art Nouveau. Moreover, though it is native to India, its popularity is such that it can now be found in virtually every country of the world, often in parks and gardens as well as zoos. In Britain it is frequently found strutting around stately homes or clamouring for attention in collections of birds in wildlife parks. People frequently cite it as their favourite bird or name it the most beautiful of birds.

I can see good qualities in the peacock but it wouldn't feature in even my top 50 favourite birds. I don't think I'm alone in not sharing the general liking of the species, though the naysayers and doubters are very much a minority. If you are someone who wonders why anyone could find fault with this magnificent bird consider this: the word "peacock" can be used as a term of disapprobation, often applied to over-dressed men indulging in what the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) calls "vainglorious display". Such a development surely suggests that some see these qualities in the bird and feel it is useful to purloin the word for that purpose. Whether it's fair to anthropomorphise in this way I leave to you to decide, but clearly not everyone is persuaded by the peacock's magnificent tail and the eye-catching colour.

However, people often acquire likes and dislikes through circumstances peculiar to themselves; that is to say, for reasons that are unlikely to be shared by someone else. So it is with me. Many years ago my wife and I were cycling along a quiet country lane past a farm. Suddenly our ears were unexpectedly assaulted by the piercing cry of a bird only a few feet away that was standing on a wall, at the same height as our heads. It was, of course, a peacock, one we hadn't noticed because of the low hanging branches of the trees. We nearly jumped out of our saddles, such was the explosive force of the unexpected call. Ever since that day I have associated peacocks and their distinctive call with that heart-stopping moment. It is responsible for my enduring negative opinion of the bird.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 300mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/300 sec
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Earrings and bokeh

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My first SLR, bought around 1972 was a 35mm Zenith E with a 58mm f2 lens, a Russian-made camera, all an impecunious student could afford. But, compared with the pocket camera that I had been using up to that point, it offered me so much more. The low-light abilities were streets ahead of cheaper cameras, and the shallow depth of field that the lens allowed opened up greater creative possibilities.When I bought a 135mm lens I felt that most of the subjects I wanted to photograph were within my grasp.

In those days I favoured black and white, and in time did quite a bit of my own printing. When it came to portraits I really made use to the out-of-focus capabilities of the camera and its lenses. At that time the word "bokeh" to describe this blur wasn't used in English-speaking photographic circles. In fact, I didn't hear it until about ten years ago, though I read that it was first used outside Japan several years earlier. This ability to blur the background is one of the things that anyone transferring from a digital compact camera with a small sensor to a DSLR with a larger sensor notices and appreciates. Some people make the transition simply to achieve this quality that they have seen and want to emulate. But the fact is many small sensor cameras are capable of producing out-of-focus blur (or bokeh). Models with wide or normal focal length lenses can often do it when set to macro, and so-called "bridge" cameras with their very long telephotos can do it at longer focal lengths  as well as in macro mode.

Today's photograph is a case in point. It was taken using my LX3 in macro mode with the lens at its widest (24mm/35mm equiv.) very close to the subject. The f2 lens and the 43 sq.mm sensor produce an extremely shallow depth of field in these circumstances, which for some subjects produces interesting and pleasing effects. My image shows a pair of my wife's earrings. They are made from the "eyes" of a couple of moulted peacock tail  feathers with beads fixed to the barbs. I placed them on a sheet of black vinyl for the photograph, and was pleased by the detail the lens revealed and the pleasant bokeh, particularly in the curves of beads of the more distant of the two earrings.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

John Ruskin and the peacock

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"Remember that the most beautiful things in the world are the most useless; peacocks and lilies for instance."
John Ruskin (1819-1900) English art critic, social critic, artist, etc,
from "The Stones of Venice" (1851)

Many years ago I read "The Stones of Venice" and "The Seven Lamps of Architecture" one after the other and ended up with "Ruskindigestion"! Both books are fascinating and important documents in the history of art and architecture, but as you read them you feel that you are being so stuffed full of the author's "moral truths" that you'll burst.

John Ruskin was a man of decided opinions about painting (direct observation was vital), architecture (Classical bad, Gothic - especially the Venetian variety - good), society (he extolled the virtues of the medieval period and decried the values of the industrial revolution), and much else too. I took away from the books much interesting information about art and architecture, but also amazement that a man could be so utterly convinced of his own rightness. Not a single doubt seemed to exist in Ruskin's head. Every opinion was held with absolute conviction.

I suppose that comes through in the quotation at the head of this piece. It's an absurd statement, ridiculously dogmatic, and easily disproved. Yet, I was delighted to read it! Because what made Ruskin great, for me, were his powerful insights that he couldn't have had without being so strongly convinced of his own point of view. For every statement that we can disagree with - "I do not believe that ever any building was truly great, unless it had mighty masses, vigorous and deep, of shadow mingled with its surface" is another such - there is also an abundance that are felicitously expressed and contain deep truths. So, when I read, "Fine art is that in which the hand, the head and the heart of man go together" I can only agree. As an educator I was impressed by his statement about education: "The entire object of true education is to make people not merely do the right things, but enjoy them; not merely be industrious, but love industry; not merely learn, but love knowledge; not merely be pure, but love purity; not merely be just, but hunger and thirst after justice". And when I came across, "Quality is never an accident, it is always the result of intelligent effort", I could only say "Amen!" Ruskin is still worth reading today. If you haven't the time or inclination for a book (or two) look up some of his quotations: they are frequently perceptive, often opinionated, and sometimes plain wrong! But they're always interesting.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm macro (70mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/2
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off