Improbable photographic colours

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Sometimes it's the depth of the blue in the sky, other times its the lurid green of the fresh grass, and frequently it's the improbable reds and oranges of the sunset (or sunrise). The other day, on a visit to the Yorkshire city of Hull (Kingston upon Hull to give it its full title) it was the blackness of the clouds. I'm referring, of course, to the way that reality sometimes looks unreal. In each of the instances cited above the observant viewer or photographer might well think that the saturation slider has been applied with a heavy hand, although there is a school of photography where this kind of embellishment has become pretty much the norm (see 500px.com).

We visited Hull on a day when heavy showers  and brighter spells alternated, and the clouds produced by this weather were striking. We were walking near the pier where the River Hull meets the River Humber, passing the end of Queen Street, when we both noticed the smoke-like clouds drifting past the tower of Holy Trinity church. My wife remarked that they wouldn't look real in a photograph and I know just what she means.We have reached a point in the development of digital photography when the manipulation of the relatively faithful images produced by cameras are routinely "enhanced", either straight away and automatically by software (e.g. Google's "auto awesome"), or later by the user's deliberate choice. I really wish it would stop. Our world is awesome enough without making it look otherworldly.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Queen Street and Holy Trinity, Hull
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 39mm (78mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.3
Shutter Speed: 1/2000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Flags, Upton-upon-Severn

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We popped into Upton-upon Severn in Worcestershire recently and found the small, riverside town had been taken over by flags and flowers. The flags, I suppose, were still flying in honour of Queen Elizabeth's 90th birthday - at least the dominance of the Union flag and a flag with the royal coat of arms suggested that was the case. Anyone who has kept up with this blog will know that I'm not a royalist so it is conceivable that some other day or date of royal significance has occurred but passed me by.

The flowers were mainly - as far as I could see - in the vicinity of the streets by the River Severn, though they were in significant numbers elsewhere too as the photo above shows. Volunteers were setting out large tubs of begonias and other brightly coloured blooms. I noticed a poster proclaiming that the town was a Britain in Bloom 2016 Finalist so I imagine that they were preparing for the arrival of some of the judges.

The combination of flags and flowers certainly made the town much more colourful than the brick and plaster of the old buildings usually achieve alone and for this architecture enthusiast they made it difficult to capture the photographs that I had in mind. However, the flags and people on this street made for a shot that gives a flavour of a small English town displaying both its patriotism and its pride.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Flags, Upton-upon-Severn, Worcestershire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 36mm (72mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A Ledbury view

click photo to enlarge
The market town of Ledbury in Herefordshire is a place I visit fairly frequently, and over the past few years I've collected quite a few photographs of the place, only a few of which please me. This one was taken in early March on a cold, cloudy day. It attempts to encapsulate the town in a single photograph. That's isn't something that is easy to do, and my image doesn't do it to my satisfaction. However, as a streetscape it isn't a complete failure, with visual interest across the frame.

The photograph shows the main street where it widens to accommodate the weekly market. It shows the unwelcome intrusion of cars and the shoppers and tourists attracted to the visually appealing independent shops that flank the route. The black and white, timber-framed structure is the Market House, the town's most prominent building. It was begun after 1617 and completed after 1655. Herefordshire is an area where timber-framed buildings dating from the 1400s through to the 1700s are relatively common, and Ledbury has several such of which this is the most prominent. The first storey rooms are raised on posts of local Spanish chestnut and the space below was designed to give market traders some shelter. It is still used for its original purpose today.

The other prominent building on the left of the photograph is the Barrett Browning Memorial Institute and Clock Tower. It dates from 1892-6 and is the work of the Brightwen Binyon. Pevsner doesn't pull his punches, describing it as "really terrible", observing that though it acknowledges the local timber-framing it does not harmonise with it. He's right that it isn't a great building but it is a tall, visual punctuation at this part of the town.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Market House, Ledbury, Herefordshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.2
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Winter sunshades

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Sunshades are something that we usually associate with summer. When the sun is beating down from on high, hot and bright, we shade ourselves to keep from being burnt and to see better. But, the onset of winter doesn't completely do away with the need to shade ourselves from the sun. Driving east in the morning and west in the afternoon is made difficult and sometimes dangerous by the nearness of the sun to the horizon. The car's in-built windscreen shades are indispensable at these times. I'm not one of those who wear sunglasses on sunny winter days, and I know that for many who do they are year-round fashion accessories worn regardless of the weather, but even I can see a need for them on occasions during the colder months. Or a peaked hat or cap. Or a strategically placed hand.

Today's photograph shows a resident of Walker Street, Newark, shading his eyes. He's not, as appears to be the case, looking at me, but is watching the departure of a visitor. As I scanned the facade of this interesting if basic terrace of houses, his appearance at his door offered me a point around which I could build a composition. My previous photograph of this street with its colourful doors used a tree for that purpose.

Looking at my photograph on the computer, and at the man in particular, I was reminded of a photograph of someone shading his eyes that always makes me smile. It has appeared on quite a few websites in the past couple of years. The first time I saw the shot it was captioned with the words, "if only you could attach it to a hat". If you haven't seen it before I hope you enjoy it.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm (105mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Yellow, red and blue doors

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I think of the three colours, red, yellow and blue as the long-recognised primary colours associated with, not only painting and design, but also children's toys. Sometimes, however, they can be the perfect threesome to enliven a narrow, shadow-filled road in a big city. I photographed these three colourful doors on an interesting modern terrace, during a walk near the River Thames in Greenwich, London.

© Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (60mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f9
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A London street in Lincolnshire

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Tucked away in an area of woodland in Kew Gardens there is a timber-framed brick cottage with a thatched roof. It was originally single storey but later had an upper floor added. It was built between 1754 and 1771 for Queen Charlotte, a cottage orné to serve as a destination for her rural walks, a place to rest and take tea; to experience what she imagined to be the bucolic lifestyle of a yeoman farmer without getting her hands dirty. The desire to build in old styles was a notable feature of the Georgian period. Alongside the styles that they invented they also built using features of Greek and Roman architecture, invented a style of Gothic architecture sufficiently different, yet like the original that it came to be called "Gothick".

The Victorians continued this trend emulating the Italianate villas of the Mediterranean in their suburban detached and semi-detached housing, and at the most extreme borrowing details from Egyptian, Saracenic and Indian architecture. They too plundered Gothic with abandon. However, like the Georgians they built much that owed little or nothing to past styles. And, unlike the Georgians they built it virtually anywhere, too often heedless of vernacular and local traditions. The twentieth century followed suit with, for example, watered down European "Moderne" influencing suburban houses of the 1930s, Georgian columns and bulls-eye windows favoured in the 1970s and Victorian tile-hanging, plinths, roof cresting and fake half-timbering being popular in the 1990s. The same style of house appeared on estates and streets the length and breadth of the country.

I was reflecting on this the other day when I was looking at Barkham Street in Wainfleet All Saints, Lincolnshire. The centre of this small country town is filled with modest brick buildings of the Georgian and Victorian periods, usually two storey, often with the door opening on to the pavement. Consequently to turn a corner and see a London street plonked down amongst the unassuming Lincolnshire housing is something of a surprise. And it is a London Street too. A plaque on the buildings notes: "Barkham Street. Built in 1847 for Bethlem Hospital according to the design of Sydney Smirke, their architect, and named after their benefactor. A number of similar terraces stood in Southwark near Bethlem hospital." Smirke is best known as the architect of the circular Reading Room of the British Museum. Both sides of his street have the same rather grand elevations with the main living storey slightly elevated by a basement and emphasised by steps to the front door and stone framed windows. The relative importance of the two floors above is signified by differing window treatments. The houses make a fine sight, though a very unusual one for this locality.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.1mm (38mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Just a couple of sunsets

 click photo to enlarge
Just?! There's nothing just about a sunset! It surely counts among the most wonderful sights that the planet earth can offer. Imagine how much poorer we would be if the sky no longer turned to fire, if clouds ceased to be tinged by red, orange, pink and purple. Consider losing the transformative effect that a sunset can bring to the grimmest urban scene, the most unremarkable suburban streetscape or an over-regimented, industrialised, agricultural landscape. Think for a moment about how rivers, lakes, west facing coastlines, even humble puddles, would no longer be able to double the power of the fiery sky with their reflections. Or how we would no longer feel that familiar thrill as we stopped and stared at the sky, watching as the colours start to build to a blazing climax then subside to a glimmer, a mere memory of what has come and gone.

I've said elsewhere that seeing a sunset, any sunset, is like seeing one for the first time. It dazzles the eye and lifts the spirits. I felt that way the other afternoon as we had a late walk round the village and the clouds turned first pink and yellow, then a deeper orange and red. It came upon us as we were on some of the plainer streets, away from the church, the stream and the big trees of the village's picturesque centre. But that didn't matter; the transformation took place regardless. After taking my fill of the spectacular sunset I took a couple of shots to remember it by.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: crop of 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The photographic attractions of rain

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The other evening we were in the Lincolnshire town of Louth. Unusually I wasn't there with photography in mind. However, I was carrying my pocket camera. As we walked up Eastgate, dodging the showers and occasionally pausing in closed shop doorways as the downpours intensified, I admired the reflections of the car headlights on the wet road, the glow from the street lamps and the brightness of the windows that were still lit. Those features, together with the light that remained in the cloudy sky, suggested a photograph and so I took several quick shots. This is the best of the bunch with its balanced composition achieved by the road and buildings leading from the main point of interest, the prominent car on the right, to the secondary point of interest,the church spire on the left.

As we continued to the business that brought us to the town I reflected on how something as unpromising, and often unwelcome and unpleasant, as rain can change a scene so that it becomes a much better subject for a photograph. It's essentially those reflections on the wet surfaces of the roads and pavements that effect the transformation, multiplying the highlights against the dark background. It reminds me of the way the sea or any stretch of water magnifies the power of a sunset.

Over the years I've found rain both a fruitful subject in itself and a great enhancer of a subject. Raindrops on the window pane can make a fascinating subject when paired with good light and an interesting background. So too can raindrops on leaves or flowers. And familiar subjects can be transformed when bright sunlight and fair weather is eschewed in favour of a downpour, even if you are sheltering under an umbrella at the time.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24.1mm (65mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 1600
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Price, value and Oscar Wilde

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"Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." (from "The Picture of Dorian Grey")
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), Irish writer and poet

The quotation above is delivered by Oscar Wilde's character, Lord Henry, in the course of an apology for lateness - "I went to look after a piece of old brocade in Wardour Street and had to bargain for hours for it. Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." However, it seems to me that for many years it has accurately summarised the attitude of British politicians, both national and local. Our coalition government is cutting state spending, particularly that by local government with a barely disguised zeal. Under the pretext of "balancing the books" and "clearing up the mess left by the previous government" they are doing what their political philosophy of "shrinking the state" would have led them to do in any circumstances.

The effect of this in the wider country, particularly where the political complexion is the same as that at national level, is that services are being hacked to pieces. Lincolnshire County Council wants to reduce the spending on its library service by one third, closing many libraries, and hoping that volunteers will step in to fill the void created. In Boston the council is seeking to attract businesses to the town and at the same time is selling off public buildings in order to generate income and reduce outgoings. The glass fronted building in today's photograph used to be an art gallery and community space. For the past few years it has been empty, the only thing on display being a sign advertising its suitability for offices. There have been no takers. What the local council don't seem to realise is that companies looking to locate in an area, and attract workers to their businesses, are influenced by the cultural services available. Many new industries will only establish themselves in a place that offers their workforce theatres, galleries, public parks and facilities that give a buzz to the area. Politicians who close galleries and libraries whilst at the same time working to increase jobs in their area epitomise Wilde's quotation to perfection. It also brings to mind E. M. Forster in "Howard's End" - "Only connect!"

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Adding shadows to the mix

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I've said elsewhere in this blog that I like to use shadows in photographs. It seems to me that they add a dimension that is quite unique. Often their contribution is in the form of a doppelganger - an insubstantial echo of the solid objects or people in or around the subject. They also bring darkness, and with it contrast, that otherwise might be absent. But more than that, shadows inject mood into an image.

I've often wondered to what extent deep, primeval fears and feelings influence how we see shadows. Certainly mankind has woven the night and shadows into many of the myths, legends, stories, songs and other art that has come down the centuries to us. Even today shadows feature in film and TV simply to convey feeling and atmosphere. The success of the Danish TV series, "The Killing", and its sequels would have been much less if it hadn't been set largely at night. And, when I think of some of my favourite films, I notice cinematography that accentuates shadows and darkness figuring large in the list. In a post of January 2011 about black and white photography I said that David Lean's 1946 version of "Great Expectations" was a fine argument for the virtues of the monochrome medium in still photography. It uses shadows well too, of course. However, were I to nominate a film that showcases the value and power of shadows then I can think of no better example than Carol Reed's 1949 film, "The Third Man". Vienna at night, with its bomb damaged buildings, street lights and the shadows of people (and cats) as they scurry about, are magnificently conceived and contribute enormously to the high regard that the film continues to enjoy.

Today's photograph shows part of the facade of a Georgian street in Ledbury, Herefordshire. I liked the way the shadow of the buildings behind and to the side of me threw shapes and darkness across the sunlit composition. The stronger orange and the washed out yellow became more important elements with the shadow's depressing effect, and in my mind's eye I saw the composition as semi-abstract arrangement of shapes and colours.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 38mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation:N/A

The general public and photography

click photo to enlarge

I've never been challenged or queried very much when taking photographs in public places. It has happened, but it has never led to the sort of significant incident that makes headlines. The police, private security guards and others are regularly reported exceeding their authority and interfering with the rights that photographers have to pursue their hobby and profession, and we must all strongly uphold our freedom to photograph in public places in the face of this kind of officiousness. But, what we must not forget is that most people, especially members of the public, are usually very helpful as far as photography goes. For example, people often wait until I've taken my shot before walking in front of me. Others are very generous, telling me about locations where I can get a good photograph. Of course, some people do make a detour to stay out of my shot, not to help me, but because they don't want to be captured on my image, and there's no problem with that. I usually find this happens in smaller places - towns, villages, the countryside - where photography is not an everyday occurrence. In cities and spots frequented by tourists, places where camera-wielding people are common, the locals tend to ignore you much more readily.

The other day I experienced a further example of the goodwill that is often afforded to photographers. I was sizing up a shot down Barn Hill in Stamford, Lincolnshire, when a man stepped out of a building to my left and was about to set off down into the town centre. "Am I going to be in your way?", he said, pausing for a moment. I told him he wouldn't be and he carried on, saying over his shoulder, "I suppose you can always Photoshop me out." I replied, "No, you'll be good foreground interest for me", at which he smiled and strode off, hands behind his back carrying his briefcase.

I've posted two shots of this particular Stamford street before (see here and here), a place with a fine selection of interesting buildings. On our recent visit we managed to dodge the rain and the sun made fleeting appearances. For this photograph, however, it had gone, but the sky had sufficient interest, the light was bright, and I managed to get a shot that I like; one that is all the better for the co-operative figure in the yellow jacket in the foreground.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm
 F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wilson Street, Newark

click photo to enlarge

Today's photographs show the quite "industrial" looking Wilson Street in Newark, Nottinghamshire. It is not the sort of street that you usually find alongside the graveyard of a large medieval church, and its presence there is all the more remarkable when you consider that there was once a matching terrace on the other side of the road where I took my shots. This oddity is explained by the fact that the houses were built (in 1766) by the vicar of the church, Bernard Wilson.

My curiosity about this Georgian cleric was piqued when I read Pevsner's summary about the terrace in "The Buildings of England: Nottinghamshire". He describes him as "an extremely wealthy pluralist of questionable character." A little digging uncovered the following. Wilson acquired his position and fortune by befriending wealthy men. His job he got through his contemporary at Westminster School, Thomas Pelham, who later became the Duke of Newcastle. His wealth came to him from the member of parliament for Newark, Sir George Markham. It seems that Markham promised Wilson a vast sum of money in his will if the young vicar married the MP's niece. Wilson inherited the money but didn't marry the niece. Further upsets and law suits followed Wilson as he tried to use his wealth to advance his own interests and those of the people he favoured. All this gave him a dubious reputation in some sections the town and society beyond, not a word of which is alluded to in his memorial in Newark church. This includes the following: "a man of sense, politeness and learning, without pride, reserve or pedantry. Possessed of an affluent fortune, his hand was ever open to relieve the necessitous. His extensive charities when living, and ample benefactions at his decease, have raised him a living monument in the hearts of the poor." Wilson did, in fact, use some of his money well, and for the alleviation of poverty. However, unsurprisingly, given human nature, those are not the foremost acts that posterity allies to his name.

The street itself is brick built with hipped pantile roofs. Raised bands separate the three floors. Pavilion-like projections close each end of the terrace and the centre projects by a similar (small) amount. This has a modest, central, arched doorway with a blocked fanlight. The houses were restored and converted around 1980. In some respects, though on a grander scale and earlier in date, they remind me of Nelson Street in King's Lynn. They have that same stripped-down, utilitarian feel. I like them for their unfussy spareness, though I'm not sure I'd like to live in them.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Barn Hill, Stamford

click photo to enlarge

Take down the television aerials and burglar alarm boxes, mask the electric door-bells, and you need to do very little else to produce a street where you could film the latest Jane Austen adaptation. Barn Hill in Stamford, Lincolnshire is one of those places that film producers and directors value for the way it has changed so little down the centuries. When I looked at this view my eye saw no building that appeared to be of a later date than the first quarter of the nineteenth century. However, knowing that provincial houses often lagged metropolitan styles by a decade or three, I decided to consult a database of listed buildings to see if my judgement was accurate.

The nearest house on the right with a ground floor and first floor bay is C17 and mid-C18. The house with the green door is similar, though the porch and ground floor bay is thought to be mid-C19 (bah!). The house with the pedimented door and arches over the windows to the left used to be two houses but is now one, and dates from the C17 and late-C18. The next house with the two-storey bow and the open-work Chinoiserie porch is quite a bit earlier than I thought: I'd have said 1810, but apparently it is mid-C18. On the left is a fine, obviously C18 town house, with one of the rainwater heads giving its age away - 1740. The two church spires are, of course medieval. In 1087 Stamford had four churches: by the end of the Middle Ages it had fourteen of which five remain complete, and two in fragments.

I've photographed Barn Hill before. That image was taken from near the building with the Chinoiserie porch. Scouting for film locations is a branch of film production that Google Street View must have made so much easier. With that thought in mind, click here to explore the length of Barn Hill for yourself.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Reflecting the streets

click photo to enlarge
I've said elsewhere in this blog that I think mirror wall buildings can be an architectural "cop out": an easy way of dealing with the exterior elevations of a building. One can see why they became popular. Once modernism had got rid of external decoration applied like icing on a cake, then architects either de-emphassed their elevations or confronted the more difficult task of using the structure's massing and functional elements in a way that offered pleasing qualities to the world.

The architecture of the twentieth century offers countless examples of buildings where architects failed in this regard, as well as many fine and successful works that have stood the test of time. So, it seems to me that some architects eagerly seized the mirror wall as a way of avoiding the harder task. Having said that, I generally find that a plain, unimaginative, mirrored exterior is usually better than a routine exterior using more traditional methods to achieve its effect. Of course, the interest of what is reflected comes into play with mirror walls, and can make or break its success. One of my earlier blog posts shows a medieval church reflected in an early (for the UK) essay with this approach. Moreover, I have to admit that my photography contains more than a few images that use reflections in one way or another, so there is a tendency for me to be drawn to mirror wall buildings for images even if I'm often unenthusiastic about the actual example that is depicted.

Today's photograph of a building on one of the streets behind London's South Bank is a case in point. Its all over grid of thin frames, each filled with identical mirror glass, could hardly be more repetitive, and the mirrored entrance, while it breaks the grid, hardly stands out from its surrounds. And yet, and yet... on a spring afternoon, with a clear blue sky, deeply shadowed buildings, trees, passing people, and advertising hoardings reflected in it, the structure offers something I find attractive; a sort of collage of the local environment, writ large and constantly changing. Whether it would look as interesting on a dull, damp day in December is quite another matter of course.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.4mm (35mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Refuse, renovations and clutter

click photo to enlarge
The steps that have been taken in recent years to reduce the amount of rubbish that we throw away, and to recycle much of that which is collected, is both laudable and necessary. We owe it to ourselves, the planet and our descendants to do more in this regard. However, the collection and sorting of refuse has created an unintended problem: the armies of unsightly "wheely bins" that clutter our towns, cities and villages. Many buildings are sufficiently adaptable to manage them discreetly. But, terraced houses that were not built with such things in mind are now often disfigured by green, blue, black, grey and brown bins that are sometimes permanently parked in front of them. And everywhere experiences at least one day a week of disagreeable clutter when they are placed on the pavement or the edge of properties for emptying by the refuse disposal workers. They are not objects that in any way enhance the appearance of the streets of our country.

Last week I was looking at some decorative scaffold sheeting in South Kensington, London. A building that was being renovated had been surrounded by a light grey (nylon?) material on which were outlines of chimneys, roofs, windows etc. among which were details such as cats, vases of flowers, birds and so on. The material had been carefully fixed so that it was tautly drawn around the structure. It did its work of hiding and protecting the work that was taking place behind admirably, but also offered something of interest and fun to the streetscape. So much better, I thought, than projecting scaffolding poles and flapping sheets of shiny plastic. Why, I mused, couldn't that sort of thinking be applied to the unsightly wheely bins? Surely with a concerted effort we could make them less visible.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographing the past

click photo to enlarge
A few days in London, and particularly an evening spent in Greenwich, had me thinking about an issue that I've dwelt on before - how many urban locations are still to be found where you can experience something (if only a little) of what our cities were like a hundred or a hundred and fifty years ago? The specific prompt for this rumination was Turnpin Lane, near the market, at dusk. The hurly-burly of the shoppers and stallholders was filling the air with the sounds and smells of people and food. Nearby the spicy tang of mulled wine being poured for my companions wafted by, and down the lane a shopper strode off into the night, carrier bag in hand, his well-wrapped body a silhouette against the glow from a street light and shop windows. Perhaps it was the narrowness of the lane, the hanging signs, the bow and sash windows and Victorian buildings, or maybe the shiny cobbles and drain, but the the scene looked quite Dickensian. So, I quickly pointed my pocket camera (the LX3) before the figure had departed and captured this image.

Many years ago I lived in Kingston upon Hull. At that time - the 1970s and early 1980s - the old High Street hadn't received its big "makeover". It still had wooden "setts" paving the roadway, empty warehouses, small pubs, merchants' houses and an air of time having passed it by. Vistas such as the one above were plentiful, and the sinuous curves of the street as it paralleled the nearby River Hull gave many opportunities for interesting compositions. The Lincolnshire town of Stamford has small corners and sections of streets that, if you airbrush away the cars and TV aerials, look much as they did one hundred or two hundred years ago. Fortunately many towns and cities have civic societies and enlightened planning authorities that give what protection legislation and public opinion can to such places. But, not everywhere is so lucky. Then it is up to concerned individuals to do what they can to preserve and protect these streetscapes that give us a glimpse into our past.

My shot was taken at 800 ISO, a level that pushes the boundaries of what a small sensor camera can reasonably achieve. Nonetheless, I was quite pleased with with its handling of this difficult scene, and can readily accept the noise that appears in a few places.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 7.9mm (37mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.4
Shutter Speed: 1/13
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Stony Lane, Thaxted, Essex

click photo to enlarge

During my recent travels I went to Thaxted in Essex. Before my visit I knew little about the place apart from what I'd read about the church and its windmill. I also had a vague memory that there was a connection with the composer Gustav Holst (1874-1934).

Towards the end of an October afternoon I wandered through its streets, had a look at the main buildings, and came upon the well-named Stony Lane. The narrow cobbled surface of the road leading up the hill to the church and the picturesque mixture of ancient buildings attracted my attention. A look at The Buildings of England: Essex revealed that the half-timbered buildings on the left date from the early 1400s, and have many original features.

Further digging enlarged my knowledge of the Holst connection. Apparently the main theme of Jupiter from his suite, The Planets, which he adapted to fit Sir Cecil Spring-Rice's poem for the hymn "I vow to thee my country", is called Thaxted after the place Holst lived from 1914 until the 1920s. An article written for the Foxearth and District Local History Society, I Ring for the General Dance: Gustav Holst and Thaxted, gives an interesting account of Holst's time in the Essex market town. Moreover it includes fanciful alternatives for the source of inspiration for each of the movements of "The Planets". The author suggests that Jupiter, perhaps for its association with the hymn name, represents market day in Thaxted. The market was packing up as I left so I can't vouch for whether or not it exudes a Jovian jollity, but the description that the author gives of the music representing a walk from the market place, up Stony Lane, through the church and around the town, is quite alluring.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

New look & Comments are back

click photo to enlarge
After almost 3 years of the "Minima" template I decided I'd have a change, and have moved to "Tic Tac Blue". I think I like it! :-)

I've also turned Comments back on. Let's hope the spammers have gone elsewhere. If they return I'll give Moderated Comments a try even though it's fairly unsatisfactory for readers (the comment is delayed until I've authorised it), and me (I have to check and authorise).

I'll leave the email address up for a while. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to comment on the pictures or text by this method - your feedback is appreciated. However, from now on Comments is the preferred method. So, if you've got any observations to make about your visit to the blog let's hear them!

Regards, Tony

Here's a shot from my recent travels. This row of houses on Castle Street, Saffron Walden, in Essex, appealed not only for the variety of colours and the individuality of each building in the terrace, but also for the way it shows examples from the sixteenth, seventeenth, and maybe eighteenth, centuries. A walk up this hill is a real visual and architectural pleasure.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (80mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Roofs, walls and windows

click photo to enlarge

A couple of weeks ago I spent a few days cycling around Rutland, Northamptonshire and Lincolnshire. I was looking at church architecture, travelling from village to village on quiet country roads. That corner of England has many stone-built churches and houses, and the wonderful architectural legacy that they represent is the product of local builders and architects, and of the quarrymen of Barnack, Collyweston and Ancaster.

The churches date from the 1100s to the present day, but most of the houses go back no further than 1600. Cycling through a village one notices how the style of these buildings changes over the centuries, moving from "mud and stud", to rubble walls, cut stone, and locally made brick. There is a fair sprinkling of thatched roofs, many of split stone tiles, orange clay pantiles, and from the nineteenth century onwards, Welsh slate. Humble homes have low-ceilinged rooms, rough stone and mortar walls, small windows, and dormers poking up through the roof. Grander buildings use cut stone (ashlar), have columned and pedimented doorways, tall windows, string courses and carved classical ornament. The history of the development of the settlements can be read through their architecture. However, one development that was slightly depressing was the number of "cod-old" (sorry "traditional") buildings that were being erected. These were traditional only in the sense that they borrowed the details of the original houses and stuck them on a twenty first century frame. One large house I saw under construction was made of concrete blocks, steel girders and timber, but a veneer of thin stone slabs, stone mullioned and transomed windows, and a cornice was being carefully applied to the outside by a "builder of traditional homes". No doubt the columned doorway was stored somewhere, ready to complete the transformation. I'd much rather have seen modern, imaginative buildings of today, that respect their context being built, structures that add to the story of the village rather than plunder and mock it as these sham-old properties do.

Today's photograph shows part of a street in Stamford, Lincolnshire. I liked the way that the buildings clearly show the styles and incremental additions of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as well as the variety of materials and the pleasant jumble of the roofs, walls and windows.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 51mm macro (102mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On