Nelson, a national hero

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There are heroes and then there are national heroes. In saying that I am using the term in its traditional sense of people who demonstrate bravery by putting themselves in harms way in the service of their country. Foot soldiers, sailors and airmen who are at the sharp end of conflicts are often recognised for acts above and beyond the call of duty - they are heroes. National heroes are usually figures of higher rank, leaders rather than one of the "ranks", and sometimes, though not always expose themselves to the same dangers as their subordinates.

One of Britain's national heroes who most certainly put himself in harms way was Horatio Nelson. The fact is, everyone who served on a man of war in the Napoleonic period was subject to the same dangers from rifle shot, cannon ball, grapeshot, fire and the multitude of flying wooden splinters. Nelson, from his time as a junior sailor until his demise on HMS Victory at the Battle of Trafalgar suffered injuries of a lesser or greater extent. His elevation to national hero recognised his personal bravery as well as his tactical skill in defeating the navies of his government's enemies.

Consequently, Nelson is one of our country's most celebrated national heroes with many statues across the land, streets named after him, public houses too, and even a town. On a recent walk in Greenwich I came across a sculpture of the admiral to add to the many that already adorn our capital. It is in the square of the newly opened Greenwich Centre and is made of, or so it appears, Core-Ten steel. I must confess that initially I couldn't work out that it represented a person, but once I'd identified the face the rest fell into place.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Admiral Nelson, The Greenwich Centre, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 90mm (180mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.5
Shutter Speed: 1/20 sec
ISO:250
Exposure Compensation: -0.3EV

Orangery, Belton House

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We tend to think of the conservatory as an adjunct to Victorian and Edwardian houses, and they were certainly popular in during those periods. However, the glasshouse and orangery pre-date the nineteenth century and rose to popularity in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

English country houses built orangeries in their kitchen gardens or elsewhere near the residence for the cultivation of not just oranges, but peaches, grapes and other fruits. They were primarily hot-houses, heated by fuel in winter, for the production of fruits that could not be grown easily or at all outdoors in our country, and were secondarily ornamental additions to the grounds.

The orangery at Belton House in Lincolnshire is less ornate than many - a large rectangular building, glass fronted with stone piers and Coade stone balustrade. Inside are statuary niches and water features. It is currently home to a variety of climbing plants, palms and shrubs. It was designed in 1811 by Geoffrey Wyattville but not built until 1820, and then with a slightly revised plan. As with many orangeries the light, plants and warmth give quite sub-tropical feel to the interior and the favourable growing conditions encourage luxuriant foliage of the type seen in my photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Statues, Orangery, Belton House, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (40mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f4.3
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Notoriety, fame, Newton and Thatcher

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"Fame, we may understand, is no sure test of merit, but only a probability of such: it is an accident, not a property of a man." Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish philosopher, essayist and historian

My first introduction to the architecturally preposterous tower of Grantham town hall was in the 1970s, from the train, as we passed through on our way to London. We were living in the city of Kingston upon Hull at the time and the east coast mainline goes through the town. Not until thirty or so years later did I visit Grantham, have a walk around, and take in the full splendour of William Watkins' hodgepodge building. By that time the town had gained some notoriety as the place where Margaret Thatcher was born. Admirers of our first woman prime minister see her birthplace, her father's grocery shop, as something of a shrine. I have no such illusions, regarding her as a stain on our country's life and history, a divisive politician who abandoned the post-war consensus and returned Britain to a society of haves and have-nots.

On that first visit I also became aware of Grantham's connection with the great scientist, Isaac Newton. The town isn't his birthplace; he was born in nearby Woolsthorpe Manor. However, it was the place where, between 1655 and 1661, he was educated. The Free Grammar School dates back to 1327 though the oldest currently standing buildings, ones that Newton would have sat in, were erected in about 1497. Education still takes place there today, but it is now known as The King's School. Grantham is sufficiently proud of the connection with Newton to have erected his statue in the main civic space in front of the town hall. There can be no denying Newton's achievements and it is right that he is recognised in this way. As I took my photograph the other day I wondered whether, in the fullness of time, Margaret Thatcher would take her place alongside him. In Britain we are, quite rightly, wary of commissioning statues to the living. There seems to be a recognition that time can change the esteem with which the famous are regarded. The death of Margaret Thatcher last year has prompted calls for public statues as a tribute to her achievements. I feel that generally, and especially in the north of England, Scotland and Wales, the public mood would not welcome such a step. However, the one place where that feeling might not prevail is the place of her birth. I will, with interest, watch the space next to Newton in front of Grantham's hideous town hall.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.1mm (51mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Commemorating George Vancouver

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The last decades of the twentieth century saw a revival of public sculpture in Britain. Local government and private developers sought to enhance public spaces by commissioning abstract and figurative pieces that gave a focus and interest to their immediate surroundings. It's not an exaggeration to say that it became something of an obsession, and moved from straightforward sculpture as the Victorians would have understood it to include the sculptural embellishment of ordinary street furniture.

Allegorical figures, birds, "environmental" pieces, seating, garden sculpture, panorama information boards, and more were erected in the years around the turn of the millennium. So too were some sculptures of people. However, unlike the Victorians we fought shy of commemorating the living (or even recently deceased), and seemed to concentrate on "filling in the gaps" i.e. erecting statues of some of those who were overlooked in past centuries. This, combined with a desire to celebrate and emphasise the individuality of smaller towns, led to explorers finding some favour in Lincolnshire, with Sir John Franklin (1786-1847) in Spilsby and Matthew Flinders (1774-1814) in Donington. Norfolk ("Nelson's County" as its boundary boards style it) also chose to commemorate an explorer. The King's Lynn resident, George Vancouver (1757-1798) was a Royal Navy captain responsible for exploring and mapping much of the coast of British Columbia, Alaska, Washington and Oregon, and after whom a number of North American locations are named.

Today's photograph shows his statue near the Customs House (built 1683) in King's Lynn. I suppose this image could be described as my attempt at a "tourist brochure" shot, embracing as it does the statue, building, anchors, chains, and cobbles of the dock surround. However, there's probably not enough blue in the sky, and those intruding cars certainly need physically or digitally removing before it could be considered fit for that purpose!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f13.
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Vicarious revenge!

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Just as big fish eat little fish and muscle-bound bullies kick sand in the face of the ten stone weakling, it's always the little guy that seems to come off worse. You're about to drive your tiny Fiat 500 on to a roundabout when a 4X4 the size of a truck, all shiny chrome bull-bars, bristling with external lights and plastered with decals announcing its name - Rampage, Pillager, Half-Wits 'R' Us, or somesuch - barges in front of you, its boorish action the very epitome of the "might is right" doctrine. It's the same at the seaside. You throw the crusts from your sandwiches to the black-headed gulls and they delicately flutter down to hesitatingly snatch a morsel. But before the first one alights in come the herring gulls, slicing heedlessly through the smaller birds like fighter bombers, not landing at all, but sweeping up the food, swallowing it in one gulp, and wheeling round for a second pass. What is a little gull to do? Well, there's no point taking on the big bullies because they'll just flatten you. But if, as is the case at Southport, Lancashire, there's a big bronze statue on the promenade of a proud and haughty herring gull, you can go and crap on its head and get safe, vicarious revenge!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E500
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: N/A