Volutes

click photo to enlarge
I first encountered the word "volute" when studying architectural history, in particular the Greek Ionic Order that is recognised by the large volutes that make up most of the ornamentation of the capital. The Corinthian and the Composite Orders have them too, on a lesser scale, but it is the Ionic that presents the architectural volute in all its beauty. In fact, the word "volute" comes from the Latin for "scroll", and looking at the spiral shape in the Ionic capital one can see how it might have derived from a parchment scroll seen end on.

Biologists use the word to describe the spiral shell of gastropods, in particular the genus Voluta. Violins and other stringed instruments often have a decorative volute at the top of the fingerboard near the tuning pegs, though this is also called a scroll. Guitar builders use "volute" to describe a thickening of the neck near the nut where one end of the truss rod is found, but this is an odd use of the word that doesn't respect its origins.

Today's photograph shows the wooden handrail of a Georgian staircase that terminates in a volute. It's not unusual to see a handrail of this period with a "turnout" whereby the straight line of the rail ends with a curve of approximately a quarter of a circle. However, if the client has money and pretensions then the architect can indulge himself with a volute, adding if he wants to go a step further, an ornamental finial on the centre. In the example above the expansion of the rail into a large, circular full-stop manages to be both elaborate and simple: perhaps elegant is the best word to describe it. As I processed this photograph, one that I took in the former Stamford Hotel in Stamford, Lincolnshire, it occurred to me that it might be a suitable candidate for a blue/sepia split-toning treatment. For more examples of this photographic treatment, one of that dates back to the days of chemical processing, see this promenade, this customer service centre or this House of Correction. For a view of the rest of this staircase see this post.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.8mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/25
ISO: 1600
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

Another go with split-toning

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Every now and then I like to apply a split toning effect to a photograph. My most recent attempts are with a photograph of an old cinema in Sleaford, Lincolnshire, and the House of Correction at Folkingham (also in Lincolnshire). My best effort to date is a shot of the re-vamped sea-front at Cleveleys, Lancashire. This was taken when I lived in north-west England and I like it sufficiently well to have a framed print of the subject on the wall above my desk in my study.

I imagine some people might wonder what it is about split-toning that attracts me. As I've explained elsewhere in this blog it was one of the photographic treatments that I always wanted to do when I processed my own prints in the darkroom. However, I never got round to buying the coloured toners necessary for the task. The advent of digital, especially the plug-ins to image processing programs that allow this effect to be emulated very well, have allowed me to indulge my fascination. I have to say though, that it's only the sepia/blue mix, where the highlights are sepia and the shadows blue, that I like. It is (and was) common to apply split-toning in other combinations such as magenta/yellow, red/green or magenta/orange, but none of these work as well for me as my chosen pairing. I especially enjoy the 1930s poster-like, graphic quality that results from applying sepia/blue to a black and white photograph.

Today's photograph is probably a candidate to put alongside the image in a post that I gave the title, "The 'Guess the building' game", because looking at this one you could be forgiven for thinking that it was a chemical plant, a high-tech warehouse, perhaps a severely modern hotel or maybe the interior of a maximum security prison. You'd be unlikely to think that it was the atrium/stair-well of a city council's offices. Of course, "council offices" is no longer good enough to describe such places, too socialist sounding I think, so this one is styled a "customer service centre". Looking at the detail and vaguely Art Deco curves of the image I immediately marked it as one to try with split-toning. I'm not disappointed by the outcome.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The House of Correction

click photo to enlarge

The village of Folkingham in Lincolnshire is known for its wide street flanked with broad grass verges and a wonderful collection of Georgian and later houses; for The Greyhound coaching inn (currently being converted into flats); for a church with one of the best towers in this part of the world; also a shop that sells chocolates of its own manufacture, and for the "House of Correction"!

That name conjures up all sorts of dark and fanciful images. One can imagine it being the title of a novel by Edgar Allen Poe, or some writer of more salacious tomes. Or perhaps a 1960s Hammer horror film starring Peter Cushing. But in fact it's just a rather grand early nineteenth century name for a local jail! The site where it can be found began life as an eleventh century Norman motte and bailey castle constructed of earth and timber. In 1312, Henry, Baron de Beaumont converted it into a moated stone structure with crenellations. However, by 1611 much of this had gone, and a jail had been built there. In 1808 this was replaced by a new building, and in 1825 a grand and forbidding entrance in the classical style was added. It housed the turnkey and the governor's horses and carriage. It also proclaimed its purpose to the world by having the words "House of Correction A.D. 1825" carved in bold Roman letters across its facade. During the years up to its closure in 1878 a treadmill, a whipping post, stocks and a hand crank were some of the instruments used on the inmates. When the gates closed for the last time the inner buildings were converted into ten dwellings which survived until demolition in 1955. Only the entrance of 1825 remained, and this is now owned by The Landmark Trust, an organisation that preserves redundant but significant buildings by converting them and renting them for short periods. The House of Correction now provides holiday accommodation for up to four people - something of a departure from its intended use!

I took liberties with the processing of my photograph of the building, and tried, by applying a sepia and blue split-toning effect, to turn it into an image of the place of pain and menace that it must once have been. Dante's gates of Hell had the words "Abandon hope all ye who enter here" inscribed upon them. That was the effect I was after!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off