A sign of different times

click photo to enlarge
One of the photographic themes that has arisen down the years on this blog is public signs. I have enjoyed quite a few that I've seen as I've travelled the country, some perplexing, some intentionally humorous, some unintentionally humorous and others engagingly redolent of the age in which they were made. Today's example that I photographed in Borough Market, Southwark, London falls into the latter category.

The sign itself dates from 1908 and may be original or a copy of an original. The case that holds it is probably original. What I like about this sign is the interesting use of language and punctuation. How odd, for example, that the words "Borough Market Trust" and "Notice" have a full stop after them. This is something that is being done consciously occasionally today by companies such as EAT., but in the main those full stops would be thought superfluous now. It's interesting too that "Beadles" were employed to maintain security in the market and that the police were not deemed sufficient in this regard. I like too, "Loiterers or other suspicious characters", descriptions that we wouldn't use today. It reminds me of the "lurkers" that populate the alley ways of London in Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories. For more of my photographs of signs follow this link.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Notice, Borough Market, Southwark
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 39mm (78mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV

The Mudlark

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I've done my share of mudlarking as this post of 2010 explains.

The usual definition of a mudlark is someone, often a child, who in Victorian times scavenged the muddy fringes of the River Thames in London in search of anything of value that could be sold for cash. The pub sign in Southwark, London, near the river, that is the subject of today's photograph alludes to these "valuables" in the grubby hand and items shown in the bordering circle.

The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) shows that mudlark has not always carried the meaning that it usually has today. The first entry from 1785 defines the word as slang for a hog, and we can see how that might transfer to Thames-side foragers. The next entry dating from 1796-1800 describes a mudlark as someone who prowls around ships in the mud, receiving plundered goods from them which they sold. Again the connection is apparent. The 1801 definition most closely matches today's understanding of the term. However, there are others. Apparently in the nineteenth century the Royal Engineers were sometimes so called. This must have been due to their often muddy work being equated with the urchins who searched the Thames mud.

I was quite pleased to see this elaborate, original and obviously quite expensive sign advertising the pub. All too often today the traditional pub sign is being replaced by a cheaply printed glossy advert, or the old design is replaced by a "tasteful" often almost monochrome updated version.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Pub Sign, The Mudlark, Southwark
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV

Pleasure, happiness and slanting light

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Many people confuse pleasure and happiness. Such confusion is quite understandable when you appreciate that we are constantly told by advertisers and businesses that happiness can be bought, when in fact what they are offering is (usually) pleasure. What is the difference? Happiness is a deep, long-lasting experience born of meaningful activity and solid relationships: pleasure is transitory, experienced briefly, then it is gone.

Consequently it is refreshing to see the word "pleasure" used accurately, as I did at the Lincolnshire seaside resort of Skegness the other day. The children's rides - roller coasters, big wheel etc - are part of what is known as the Pleasure Beach. This is a place where you pay your money and experience the fun and thrill of a ride. Even though the day was bright and sunny the month of February was not one where the owners felt that punters would be tempted on to the outdoor rides and so they were all still, waiting for the end of march or April to arrive. But the big, bold, painted and illuminated signs were still proclaiming the pleasure on offer even though most of the light bulbs were unlit.

The word shown above, part of the sign "Pleasure Beach" was painted in light blue, purple and yellow with red stars. Not my favourite combination of colours but appropriate for the purpose to which they were being put. What I liked was the way the slanting sunlight was making long shadows of every part of the wall, name and stars, and particularly the light bulbs. I felt the effect would be amplified by conversion to black and white, and so it proved.

photograph and text ® Tony Boughen

Photo Title: "Pleasure", Skegness, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm (140mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

West End

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I remember learning in my school geography lessons that in Britain poorer housing and industry is often located on the east side of a city and better housing on the west. This is apparently due to the prevailing wind being a westerly or south westerly. The well-heeled preferred not to have noxious odours brought to them on the breeze and so, in the main, they chose the western side of the city in which to live. The poor had less choice or no choice at all.

I recall thinking that this seemed to apply to London in so far as I knew it; that the West End was upmarket compared with the downmarket East End. When I moved, several years later, to the city of Kingston upon Hull, the rule applied there too, though it was somewhat spoiled by the fact that the fish dock was in the west of the city.

On my first visit to Boston I noticed this sign on top of a cinema. Roof mounted signs are much less common in Britain than they are in other countries so they do catch my eye. Could the same rule apply in this town I wondered? Was this a West End in the London sense though on a smaller scale? The answer in both cases proved to be no. The sign seems to take its inspiration from London and the fact that the West End has many cinemas, but also leans on the fact it is located in a road called West Street. The clear January light was emphasising the sharp shapes when I looked up at it the other day so I photographed it against the cloud flecked sky in a very off-centre composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17.8mm (48mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  - 0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Death, dignity and helium

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The popularity of releasing helium filled balloons and watching them float away into the wild blue yonder shows no signs of abating. It's now reasonably widely known that the earth's supply of helium is finite and dwindling (despite it being the universe's second most common element), and that more pressing uses for the gas exist e.g. in medical MRI scanners, welding and industrial leak detection. And yet, every year races involving hundreds of helium balloons are organised, often to support a charity, and millions of party balloons are inflated with the gas. It may be that mankind, one day, finds a substitute for helium, but until then many scientists advocate a more responsible husbanding of this important resource.

A while ago I came upon a shiny, red helium balloon that had attached itself to the metal fence that surrounds an electricity substation. It had clearly been snagged for some time because it was abraded and beginning to fade, the metallic coating showing grey beneath the paint. On the side facing me (upside down) I could read the word "dignity". Behind the balloon was a yellow warning sign, one of the many placed on the fence at regular intervals, warning of "Danger of Death": not unreasonable considering the high voltage apparatus inside. As I gazed on the fluttering balloon it occurred to me that this happenstance juxtaposition had put "death" with "dignity" in close proximity and that the three primary colours - red, blue and yellow - were also part of the photographic composition that was forming in my mind. So, reflecting that a "death with dignity" is something we all wish for when the end finally comes, I took my shot and continued on my way.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20.9mm (56mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Stilton cheese

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The origins of Stilton cheese are hard to pin down. I remember being told that it got its name from the fact that in the 1700s it was taken from its various makers in Leicestershire to the Bell Inn, Stilton, where it was loaded onto waggons for delivery to London along the Great North Road. If that were true then "Where did Stilton cheese originate?" would be a great pub quiz question because the answer would not be "Stilton".

Today, due to the terms of the Protected Geographical Status (PGS) of Stilton Cheese that was granted in 1996, the cheese cannot be made in Stilton. This is because the village is in Cambridgeshire (formerly in Huntingdonshire) and the PGS applies to only Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire and Bedfordshire. In fact none is currently made in Bedfordshire, with manufacture only at three Leicestershire and two Nottinghamshire locations. The white and the blue Stilton that we buy usually comes from Long Clawson in Leicestershire. Blue Stilton is probably my favourite cheese. It's clearly an acquired taste and something I wouldn't have eaten in my youth, but advancing years have seen me gravitate to it before most other cheeses, even ahead of Wensleydale, a cheese that I also like a lot.

Today's photograph shows the Bell Inn at Stilton. A datestone on one of the gable ends shows that it was built in 1642. Alterations were made c.1700 and later in the eighteenth century. Part of the inn was converted into three houses in the nineteenth century. The building fell into disuse for part of the twentieth century but renovation in 1985 returned it to its original use. The building is made of Ketton limestone with some later brick and roofs made of Collyweston stone and nineteenth century pantiles.The carriage arch remains but, as often happens these days, it has been incorporated into the building with glazing.The inside arch has an inscription, painted black, that read, "London 74 Huntingdon 12 Buckden 14 Stamford 14 Miles". The splendid wrought ironwork on the main elevation has been restored and it proudly projects the inn's sign out from the building to where it can be clearly seen by all who pass by.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Signs and sentience

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Over the years I've posted quite a few photographs of signs. Some of them, such as the recent one of the London Underground roundel show specimens displaying exemplary design, others, as is the case with this old road sign, illustrate how signs in the past emphasised the message much more than presentation. However, it is those signs that say more than the writer intended that I enjoy most of all.

I particularly relished the sign I came across in Williamson Park, Lancaster, that proclaimed, "Danger - Shallow Water" and I had to drive carefully and look behind every tree and bush when I came upon the sign at Bleasdale, Lancashire, that said, "Slow - Children & Dogs Everywhere". Then there was the sign on a Blackpool pier exhorting visitors not to attach bicycles to the railings because to do so was a fire hazard. I felt I had little choice but to give that blog post the title, "Incendiary bicycles?"

When I decided that my garden shed needed its security improving I took a few basic measures to make it more difficult for a burglar to enter. I also cast around for a sign that would increase the deterrent effect. When I saw this one I simply had to buy it. I loved the idea that my shed is sentient and has feelings just like you and me, though every time I see it I do wonder what I could have done to cause it such consternation.

Incidentally, this image shows a photographic optical illusion of a kind that I've noticed before. The writing on the sign is engraved, yet sometimes it appears to be embossed depending on how you visually interpret the shadows in the indentations. Another example of the phenomenon can be seen in this old graffiti on the medieval stonework of the tower of St Botolph in Boston, Lincolnshire

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 100 sec
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Blogging and popularity

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Ever since I started blogging I've used a hit counter to give me some idea of the level and sources of the traffic that comes my way. For years I've used a free version of Sitemeter, and found it supplied all my needs. However, for a while the policies of Sitemeter with regard to cookies has been questionable. So, when Blogger introduced Stats* several weeks ago, I thought I'd dispense with my old hit counter and use the "in house" offering. But, the information I am now provided with is slightly different and in some ways less useful: it has more aggregation of results and less information about individual hits. Consequently I've added Google Analytics as well. I've been familiar with this evolving tool for a few years, using it on another website that I have. What both these counters do that Sitemeter doesn't is rank the most popular pages on my blog by All Time, Month, Week, Day and Now. When I looked at the All Time (in this case only several weeks) information it surprised me: the list doesn't include any of what I consider my best photographs or supporting texts, and I've been pondering why these specific pages are popular. Here is then, the current All Time top ten with my thoughts on why they prove more attractive than the rest of my PhotoReflect offerings.

1 Tree shadows and architectural drawings
Surely it can only be architecture students looking for CAD symbols.
2 Lichfield Cathedral
All those vertical lines and arches say "cathedral" to a lot of people, plus, Lichfield is probably less photographed than many other English cathedrals.
3 Promenade silhouettes
It's an eye catching shot - but not much else.
4 The megapixels war and dynamic range
This piece got picked up and referred to by a few online sites and blogs so that accounts for its popularity.
5 The corrugated chair
Making chairs out of found materials seems to be on the curriculum of some educational institutions, and the corrugated chair in question is not particularly widely illustrated.
6 Dog daisies
I have no idea! Perhaps my name for the flowers draws others who also use it rather than the more widely used ox-eye daisy and marguerite.
7 St Leonard, Kirkstead, Lincolnshire
I can only think that this small building in Lincolnshire's rural fastness is not widely covered on the web.
8 Plates of meat
Maybe I'm attracting gourmands rather than people who know that the term is Cockney rhyming slang for feet!
9 The fan vault
Probably another subject with relatively little illustration or text on the web.
10 River Welland landscape
Not one of my best landscapes, though one that is in the English tradition. Perhaps the River Welland doesn't have many such images on the web.

What has all this to do with my photograph of a section of the neon sign that proclaims Skegness Pier? Nothing. The fact is I had little to say about the photograph other than that I liked the colour combinations chosen for the neon tubes and their backgrounds. Oh and the fact that despite my shutter speed being rather slow for the focal length the shot is pretty sharp.

* only currently available (I think) for those using Blogger in Draft

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The sign of The Black Swan

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The traditional English pub sign is a joy. It usually comprises an oil painting that illustrates the name of the pub. This hangs from a projecting bracket on the side of the building or on a purpose-built stand. Thus, The Red Lion may have an heraldic lion - rampant, passant, reguardant, rarely couchant - or a shield with the lion as the charge on it. One of the many pubs called The Plough will, in all probability, have a ploughman holding the said implement as he follows his horse. The King's Head will have just that, the particular monarch being chosen either with regard to the date of the building of the pub, or on the whim of the brewery, the landlord or the sign painter. And, because there are so many different pub names, the variety of images on the signs is enormous.

But, in recent years, the insidious growth of corporatism, "branding" and pub designers has led to something of a decline in the number of traditional pub signs. They are still in the great majority, but I notice more and more "modern" signs appearing. These often have a limited palette - usually two colours - and have a simple motif replacing the detail of the traditional sign. Many are conceived in the spirit of a corporate logo rather than a centuries old artefact. And, unlike the older model, the newer ones date very quickly and are usually replaced with something equally inept. A particularly bad example I once saw was on a pub called The Crossed Keys, a common name said to derive from the symbol of St Peter, or perhaps the archbishopric of York. The pub designers had painted black keys - with a trendy ragged outline - on a khaki coloured background. It wasn't eye-catching and the name wasn't spelled out in full: it didn't even warrant a glance, and certainly wasn't of the quality that invites the onlooker to admire the painter's art and reflect on how the establishment's name has been interpreted compared with others you've seen. And, regrettably that's true of most "modern" pub signs.

However, today, whilst on a shopping expedition in Spalding, Lincolnshire, I noticed this modern sign that I quite like. Admittedly it wouldn't work so well on a cloudy day, but the lights on each side of it may well throw interesting shadows at night. I chose a black and white conversion to accentuate its graphic qualities.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 9.3mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

I should coco

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There may be good reasons for calling a Mexican restaurant Coco, but none immediately spring to mind. I came across this one as I was gathering images in Peterborough. It was at the tapered end of a block of buildings with a road at each side. As I looked up at the stainless steel logo and text reflecting the sky, and took in a second reflection on some glass below, the phrase, "I should coco" came to me. And, with that thought echoing around my head I took my photograph and departed.

"I should coco" is one of those sayings that I'd occasionally heard, but didn't really understand. I recalled it being the title of a pop album, but couldn't remember by which band. I had the impression that when used in a piece of prose it meant something like, "Yeah, right!" uttered in an ironic way. So, as you do, I Googled the phrase, and came up with the name of Supergrass as the band. Then I alighted on a fascinating website called World Wide Words, and found a whole entry on the phrase. It seems that it started life in London in the 1930s, gained in popularity in the 1950s, and was originally spelled, "I should cocoa!". Its meaning is something approximating to "Not on your life!" or "No way!", though the author of the piece, Michael Quinion, suggests that it was originally rhyming slang for, "I should say so!" He further speculates that its spelling changed due to the popularity of Coco the Clown. I was glad to have stumbled upon his website and immediately bookmarked it.

Anyway, back to the photograph. I'm not a fan of brown bricks, especially when they are pointed with matching mortar, so the overall presentation of this building didn't appeal to me. However, the gleaming, stainless steel signs and glass reflecting the sky and clouds did. They made, I think, a reasonably interesting shot. Whether they would work quite as well when the blue sky was obliterated by a dense blanket of stratus is quite another matter!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.4mm (35mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

districtnk and all that

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Driving through Lincolnshire a few weeks ago I noticed a new roadside sign. It welcomed me to an area known as "districtnk" - that font, that spacing, those colours! I looked around with some trepidation, thinking that I'd entered a gulag-ridden outpost of the the old USSR at co-ordinates n,k on the map held by the Supreme Soviet in Moscow. However, when I saw the sign again I realised that North Kesteven District Council had "re-branded" itself - whatever that means - and this was their new welcome sign. Furthermore, it proclaimed that the district comprised "100 flourishing communities" (not 98, 99 or 101, but 100 - what are the chances?), and, because they knew that the new title was so opaque that it couldn't stand alone they spelled out the council name in full at the bottom. Gone was the old coat of arms, replaced by a symbol that made it look like they were sponsored by BP. I hope they didn't pay very much to the consultants who came up with all this because if it's supposed to show the council as progressive, modern, go-ahead, etc, for those of a certain age it suggests just the opposite. Perhaps the next step in the re-branding is for districtnk to start re-naming some of those "flourishing communities" after Soviet leaders, after which they'll move on to giving the schools numbers instead of names.

Signs, as a couple of my recent posts have suggested can be puzzling and fun. One notice I remember, that I didn't photograph but wish I had, was in an area of waste ground and said simply, "Danger! Deep Active Sludge" - succinct, memorable, and to me, completely impenetrable. Today's third and final (for now) offering was taken a couple of years ago near Bleasdale Tower in the Forest of Bowland, Lancashire. It was presumably erected by concerned parents who wanted the farm vehicles to drive with consideration. The way they expressed themselves certainly caught the eye, but I wonder if, in the longer term, it had the opposite effect to what was intended. I say that because, though I must have passed it a dozen times as I walked the area over the years, my experience was of children and dogs nowhere! Not a one, just like on the day I took this shot.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E500
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 21mm (42mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A

Incendiary bicycles?

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A few decades ago, in my teenage years, I was cycling down a long, steep and winding hill above Langcliffe in the Yorkshire Dales. As the drystone walls and sheep flashed by the smell of burning impinged on my consciousness. Glancing briefly around I could see neither burning man nor flaming beast, but looking down I saw smoke coming from my brake blocks. I suspect I had bought the cheapest available, and they didn't appear to be up to the job. When I stopped, got off and inspected the source of the heat and smoke, I could see that a burnt residue had been smeared around my wheel rims by the friction of rubber on metal. I think I can honestly say that is the only time I have ever considered a bicycle to be anything remotely resembling a fire hazard.

And I suppose that's why I found this sign fixed to a seaside pier in Blackpool, Lancashire, very puzzling, not to say quite bizarre. I tried to imagine the kind of bicycles that the author of the missive might have in mind. I could see that if the clowns from the Blackpool Tower Circus left their car on the pier it might well explode with a flash of flame and a puff of smoke - clowns' cars often do that. But their bicycles? Never! And anyway, most of them have only one wheel so if that was what the sign-writer had in mind he should have prohibited unicycles too! To this day that sign is probably the oddest that I've been motivated to photograph, and the whole point of it, including the spurious "health and safety" justification, puzzles me still.

I came across this image as I was transferring files to my new hard drive after my recent misfortune. It makes a good companion for the image I posted a couple of weeks ago. If you're not keen on this sort of shot, hard luck, I found a third example that will appear soon!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E500
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 48mm (96mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A

A sign of the times?

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I don't know about you, but I thought it was deep water that was dangerous. At least I've seen plenty of signs around canals, rivers, reservoirs, lakes, etc., that warn me about it, so it seemed a reasonable conclusion. However, when I was walking in Williamson Park, Lancaster, I came across this sign, and the only conclusion I can draw from it is that if shallow water is dangerous too, then surely all water must be dangerous. Perhaps the sign makers could save time and money by simply printing "Danger, Water!"

Of course, if they did that they'd need to put the signs on taps, baths, water coolers and swimming pools. People would need to be employed to place portable signs next to puddles after rain, and to remove them when the water evaporated. And if we conceded this principle then all those "Danger, High Voltage" signs on electrical equipment would need to be complemented by "Danger, Low Voltage" on batteries, or would it just be "Danger, Voltage"? Maybe balloons would have warnings analagous to those on plastic bags, but instead of saying "Danger of suffocation!" they'd say "Danger , Low Voltage if Rubbed on a Jumper!" And, thinking about it, I suppose the plastic bags that have holes punched in them to prevent suffocation would need marking with "Danger, You might get a bit out of breath and damp from condensation if you put this over your head!" Or not.

I came across this photograph when I was transferring backed-up images to my new hard drive. I took it a couple of years ago. Looking at it the other day I thought it perfectly encapsulated our risk averse, litigation conscious, accidents-don't-exist-anymore, it's-always-someone-else's-fault culture. The organisation that had the sign erected was clearly covering its back, fearing that if someone dived into the shallow water (an ornamental pond) and hurt themselves they'd have vulture-lawyers working on a no-win-no-fee basis to recover damages for their "negligence" in not warning about the depth of the water. It's literally and metaphorically a "sign of the times" in which we live.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E500
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm (90mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On