The photographic appeal of repeated forms

click photo to enlarge
Walking down the south aisle of a church the other day I came upon a stack of I didn't know what. They looked like the bases of tables, the sort of rectangular metal top with legs that would support a flat smooth surface. And yet that didn't sound like a reasonable answer to what they were. Why would they be stacked without tops when its perfectly possible to stack tables in this way with the tops in place?

But, it wasn't the question of their purpose that interested me and caused me to pause by them so much as the way the repeated forms, lit by the subdued light of stained glass windows, made interesting semi-abstract shapes. I took a few shots of the pile and moved on.

However, when I returned home I made  a concerted effort to find out what they were. After some searching I concluded that they must be the bases of movable staging; the sort of thing that can be erected when needed - for a concert or ceremony for example - and then stored until the next time. At least that's what I think they are. If anyone knows different I'd be glad to hear from them.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 27mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/25 sec
ISO:6400
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Rhythm and hues

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Of the three major pairings of complementary colours my favourite by a large margin is blue/orange.  Red/green I can appreciate with flowers, leaves and grass - in fact, we have red geraniums (pelargoniums) every year because of the big return you get from their petal colour next to their leaves. Purple/yellow, leaves me cold though; too garish by far. However, I enjoy that delicious blue/orange mix so much that sometimes I barely realise I'm using it, though usually it's a very deliberate choice. Examples in the blog include these trees and buildings, these flowers and their deliberately chosen background, this Euphorbia, ladybird and background, and these spring maple leaves against a blue sky.

What artists have realised down the centuries and what photographers learnt from artists is that some of the qualities of "pure" complementaries extend to "near" complementaries. If, for example, you put brown (rather than orange) next to blue the pairing offers attractive qualities that derive from the fact that, as a colour, brown is close to orange. I'm sure it's this that explains why my preferred combination for split toning is blue/sepia. I've tried other pairings such as cyan/green, magenta/orange and red/sepia, but have always gravitated towards my favoured colours (see this building interior and this sea-front promenade).

Perhaps similar reasoning can be adduced for my liking of the colour pairings in today's photograph. It shows tongues of rippled sandy Lincolnshire beach at low tide. I liked the repetitive rhythm of these small spits and I isolated sections of them with a long lens. The title of today's blog is a blatant steal and amendment of an off-licence I saw in Barton upon Humber, one of a chain apparently, called Rhythm and Booze, which is itself a play on the name of the style of music of almost that name.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 120mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Revisiting photographic subjects

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Our modern world, it seems, craves novelty. Manufacturers constantly update their cars, phones, televisions, bathrooms, clothing and much else in the hope and expectation that through change they will prompt desire and trigger another purchase to replace whatever it is that they now deem to be old and consequently worthless. Camera makers are past masters at this, offering a few more megapixels, slightly faster burst rates, a touch more dynamic range and further tweaks in their new models that appear for sale with frightening rapidity. And yet as these products change they also, in many ways, remain the same, because the fact is, manufacturers and consumers enjoy familiarity just as much as they do novelty. So, digital SLR cameras look very much like film SLR cameras though they don't have to do so, and today's shiny new car isn't radically different in appearance from that of ten years ago, or from the current competitor manufacturers' offerings (to the extent that I frequently confuse marques). In the realm of fast food outlets you are successful if you can give the customer the same product from the same menu - EXACTLY the same product, EXACTLY the same menu - wherever they happen to be in the country.

This love of both novelty and familiarity affects photographers too. Many enthusiastic amateurs and professionals like to go to new and different places to photograph new and different subjects. But those same photographers also enjoy taking "just one more" shot of a favourite or familiar subject, using the different light, weather, season, lens, etc. to try and improve on their earlier efforts. I'm no different from most photographers in this respect, and will quite happily shoot the same subject over and over again in the quest for a better outcome. I've discussed this previously in this post about Quadring church, and this post about Sleaford church, both in Lincolnshire.

I've posted shots of the subjects in today's post before too. One Humber Quays is a new office building in Hull that I've passed and photographed a few times, and the semi-abstract architectural detail is one that I frequently walk near when I'm in London, and each time try to come away from it with a better image. Familiarity with a subject often allows you take a better photograph of it because you have a fuller understanding of what it offers. Of course there's no guarantee that this will happen, and occasionally the freshness of discovery prompts a shot that trumps one bred of close acquaintance. You can be the judge of which of these forces is at work in the examples I post today.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 320
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Repetition and symmetry

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Repetition and symmetry are key characteristics of classical achitecture. The Greeks and Romans who were responsible for this style created an architecture that emphasised man's intellect, and his dominance and control of nature. It was these two devices that allowed their buildings to stand apart from the "messy" natural world. The idea of taking the same form and repeating it across a facade, as here on the ground floor and first floor of the north front of Grimsthorpe Castle, Lincolnshire, began with the repeated columns of Hellenic temple porticos and spread into the serried arches of Roman architecture, most notably in the Colosseum. Renaissance architects both copied the ideas of the ancients and elaborated upon them.

Gothic architecture, however, especially in its Victorian incarnations, had more time for asymmetry. In the position of entrances and towers, for example, and also in the arrangement of floor plans, they frequently proclaimed the virtue of a more practical and studied irregularity. When they sought "balance" in a building it would sometimes be achieved by the careful disposition of different forms, rather than by multiples of the same form on either side of a line of symmetry. However, Gothic and other "Romantic" styles of architecture continued to value the virtues of repetition and even symmetry, as the Perpendicular Style of the fifteenth century, and nineteenth century industrial architecture in England frequently testifies.

It's interesting to speculate whether the repetition of forms in building came about for aesthetic reasons or for convenience of manufacture and construction. We are, of course, unlikely to know the answer to that question, but the designers and workmen of ancient civilizations must have found it easier to replicate and erect several columns that were identical, or move supporting wooden formwork between arches that were all the same size and circumference. Those advantages were certainly not lost on the Victorians who often made and assembled windows and ornament off-site. This is an aspect of classical architecture that I've never seen discussed anywhere, but which occurred to me as I was photographing this facade. The drawings for the design shown here date from 1722, making it one of the last works by Sir John Vanbrugh who died in 1726. Nicholas Hawksmoor may have completed his structure. It's inconceivable that the main entrance of this elevation would be placed anywhere but the centre, and the fountain could only ever be placed in line with it. Even the gardeners, when positioning their planters of topiarised box obeyed its imposing symmetry and repetition, so I decided that I must do that too, in my photograph.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 86mm (172mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.8
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Glasshouse patterns

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It's great fun to search for repeating patterns that you feel will make successful photographs. Man-made objects, especially buildings, involve a lot of repetition, so if you live in a city or a relatively urban area it's much easier to make photographs in this way. I've used columns and shadows, cafe chairs, rusty corrugated metal, industrial buildings, and other objects to make photographs of this sort that please me.

But, if you live in the countryside, such photographs are harder to find. The other day I posted a picture of a disc harrow that involved repeating elements. I've also photographed soil ridges in a newly planted potato field and new rural housing, but subjects with these qualities have been pretty difficult find. However, the other day, whilst walking near Quadring I came upon a very large glasshouse that seemed to offer patterns to exploit. I think if the repetition had merely been the verticals of the aluminium frame and the zig-zag roofline I'd have passed it by. I find that shots involving repetition generally have to have a degree of complexity, or a detail that breaks the pattern, otherwise they can be boring. The part that really drew my eye here was the shadows that produced diagonals slanting across the verticals. These, combined with the contrasty bright colours that the day and the structure produced, caused me to fire off a few shots. This one is the pick of my glasshouse crop!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 110mm (220mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On