Organ pipes and case

click photo to enlarge
In September 2009 I took a photograph of an organist at the console of the instrument in the church of St Wulfram in Grantham, Lincolnshire. She sat in the warm glow of a light before no less than four keyboards, dozens of stops, a mirror and her music. Above her head, in wood, hinting at the splendours even higher, is Gothic-style fretwork, two gilded shields and a line of text in Latin - Laudate eum in chordis et organo - "Praise him with strings and pipes", a quotation from Psalm 150 in the Bible.

On my recent visit I concentrated my attention above the console, on the pipes and the magnificent case that Sir Walter Tapper RA designed for the instrument in 1902. This woodwork, combined with the re-gilding of 1972 makes a most impressive sight. The lighting and the painted wood ceiling give this area of the church a rich and opulent feel. We had a cup of tea and some cake in the church's cafe, but unfortunately on this occasion there was no organ recital taking place, something that we have enjoyed on a previous visit.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/8 sec
ISO:1600
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Pipes and traction engines

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I couldn't have been more pleased when the legislation forbidding smoking in public buildings came into effect in the UK. My only regret was that it didn't extend to outdoor public spaces, so in common with other non-smokers, I have to endure second-hand smoke when I walk down the street, sit in a pub garden or run the gauntlet at the door of a building where smokers who work inside are gathered, getting their regular fix of nicotine.

At the time the laws came into force some argued that smoking was in decline and consequently we should let it take its natural course without any legal proscription. That always seemed a weak argument to me, with one exception: pipe smokers. A few eccentric youths excepted, pipe smoking is an old man's habit, and is the pleasure of visibly fewer with each passing year. When I was younger the pungent smell of a pipe was common, and smoking one seemed to involve rites and mysteries. People argued over the type of wood that was best, whether upstart plastic had a place, how to pack the bowl and ignite it and much else too. There even seemed to be penknives equipped with tools suitable for maintaining the wretched things. Today pipe smokers are a mercifully rare sight.

I came across the man in today's photograph sitting atop a steam engine that was powering an old fashioned threshing machine at a Lincolnshire country fair. The pipe didn't seem out of place in this context, nor did the deer-stalker hat and overalls. And as far as the pong from the pipe goes, it was inconsequential to the point of invisibility when measured against the smell from the funnel of his steam engine!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 135mm
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Curve stitching, string art and organ pipes

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When I was in primary school, aged about ten years old, a teacher introduced us to curve stitching - the art/mathematics of arranging straight lines in such a way that they produced optical curves and circles. First of all we were shown how to do it with a ruler and pencil on paper, then we progressed to making pictures using this principle: that involved card and coloured threads. I seem to recall that my piece of work involved a yacht under sail on a rolling sea with the sun overhead. It was engrossing fun. Pictures made in this way are often called "string art", though there is very little art involved in the process.

Those lessons from decades ago came to mind when I was processing this photograph of some church organ pipes. The builder of this particular instrument - G. M. Holdich of 4 Judd Place East, New Road, King's Cross, London, according to an affixed plate - had arranged the mouths of the pipes in a curve that was higher in the centre. This gave me the opportunity to select an ogee section of these in the viewfinder and compose a shot that incorporated a "line of beauty." However, when I came to process the image on the computer what should have been obvious, had I given it any thought, then struck me quite forcibly: the "curve" was actually made of a series of horizontal lines each stepped slightly in relation to the other. Not curve stitching proper, perhaps, but a curve made of straight lines, nonetheless, hence my memory of the fun in school.

These organ pipes are not as decorative as those I posted a while ago. However, a bright day was causing them to reflect shafts of sunlight on stone columns and walls that were coloured by light through stained glass in such a way that I thought them worthy of a photograph

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/50
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Beautifying the church organ

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What can you do to integrate a thumping great organ into its place in the church. There are two main approaches to this problem. The first is hide it (in an arch, alcove, etc), and the second is beautify it, either by making it complementary to the existing fittings and furnishings, or by making it an eye-catching thing of beauty in its own right.

Many of the first church organs were subject to beautification. The keyboard was encased in an elaborate, decorative, wooden surround, and the pipes were also wrapped around - to a greater or lesser extent - with pierced and carved wood. I've seen wooden organ cases of the most elaborate design, all veneers, inlay and sculpture, carved by the likes of Grinling Gibbons, that display all the decorative details at the disposal of the eighteenth century, from swan-neck pediments to cornucopias and swags. Much the same is true of the nineteenth century attempts to beautify the organ, though using the heavier decoration of those years. However, Victorian designers often deliberately displayed the pipes themselves, in ranks, graduated by size, with painted, stencilled details applied to the metal-work, much as in the example shown from Little Eversden. These designs are often very delicate, and reflect the fashion of the time. Some of the Arts & Crafts stencilling is particularly good.

This style of decoration continued into the twentieth century. However, those years were often times when renovation was the order of the day, and the installation of new pipe organs was something of a rarity. On the whole the restorers maintained and repaired that which was there. But, a few brave vicars employed architects to fashion new cases for their organs. I came across one such, dating from 1972, in Spalding church the other day. The painted wooden screen featuring parallel slats and inverted square pyramids is by G.G.Pace, an architect and designer of church furnishings whose work I have admired in Yorkshire and Lancashire churches. My photograph doesn't display the interest of Pace's design very well - I was looking to create a semi-abstract image - but I may return and take another photograph to show this fine piece of work which is a welcome change from the usual polished wood cases.

photographs & 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: 1/24 (1/8)
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 (-1.0) EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Pan

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Statuary has a long tradition in English gardening, but it reached its high-point in the eighteenth century. The Renaissance had begun to impinge on this island's artistic sensibilities from the sixteenth century, and took a stronger hold in the seventeenth. But it wasn't until the Georgian period that it ruled supreme. Then Classical architecture, art and mythology were the reference points for everyone who wanted to create a country house with landscaped grounds.

Anglesey Abbey in Cambridgeshire has 98 acres of gardens and grounds that feature sculpture at every turn. The landscaping was designed in the twentieth century on eighteenth century principles (though the house dates from the twelfth century with additions from many later centuries). The skilfully placed statues include a lead group by Cheere, a marble Apollo of 1765, mid-eighteenth century busts of Roman emperors, urns by Scheemakers and Delvaux, and much more. They also include the statue of Pan shown above. This Greek god of shepherds, flocks, mountains, hunting and rustic music is generally known for two things - his sexuality and his pipes. At Anglesey this piece is one of a pair that face each other across a narrow path through a yew hedge. The yew has been deliberately and skilfully grown around the statues making them look like they are emerging from the foliage. They seemed to me to be less well-used than they might be in this tight location, so I took this shot of one of the pair to show him off to better effect against his green background.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 13mm (26mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/25
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On