click photo to enlarge
The Christmas tree of today comes in many forms. However, to be described as traditional it must have, as its basis, a coniferous evergreen tree such as a spruce. Furthermore the decorations should be bright, colourful and frequently reflective. If these attributes are present it can fairly be called traditional. If, however, there is a colour "theme": baubles of only one or two colours, it is more of a late C20/C21 "modern" design. In the home traditional trees frequently reflect the addition of successive items down the years, often including examples made by children. These, quite randomly decorated trees are the antitheses of the modern design and much to be preferred.
I've come across quite a few Christmas trees in the past couple of weeks. The "traditional" example above was photographed in the church at Wisbech, Cambridgeshire. By way of contrast I also include quite the most depressing "tree" to be seen by me this year (and for many a year) that I saw in King's Cross railway station in London. It is made entirely of soft Disney character toys.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:1250
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Showing posts with label tradition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tradition. Show all posts
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Monday, August 24, 2015
Spinning wool
click photo to enlarge
There are children today who, if you tell them that milk comes from cows, will look at you incredulously, thinking that you are playing some kind of practical joke on them. The same children find it hard to believe that the bread they are eating is made from the seeds of a cultivated grass. As for the notion that the jumper they are wearing was once, in rather more basic form, worn by a sheep - well, suggest that and your sanity will be questioned. If you find this hard to believe, let me assure you I have met such children. They are not widespread, but they do exist, and for two reasons. Firstly, their parents haven't told them about such things either through traditional stories or in the normal course of their early lives. And secondly, because modern life increasingly distances us from the source of our food and drink, the clothes we wear and much else.
Before I took today's photograph I was explaining the process of weaving - insofar as I understand it - to my grand-daughter as we watched the sheep fleece pass through the spinner's hands onto the spinning wheel and thence to the bobbin. What fascinated her most was the way the steady up and down foot movement of the spinner on the treadle was, via rods, cranks and wheels converted into very fast rotary movement, and how the mass of wool was drawn into a single strand. It intrigued me too and I was glad that here was someone carrying on this tradition and demonstrating it for all to see.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (160mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.5
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:250
Exposure Compensation: 0
Image Stabilisation: On
There are children today who, if you tell them that milk comes from cows, will look at you incredulously, thinking that you are playing some kind of practical joke on them. The same children find it hard to believe that the bread they are eating is made from the seeds of a cultivated grass. As for the notion that the jumper they are wearing was once, in rather more basic form, worn by a sheep - well, suggest that and your sanity will be questioned. If you find this hard to believe, let me assure you I have met such children. They are not widespread, but they do exist, and for two reasons. Firstly, their parents haven't told them about such things either through traditional stories or in the normal course of their early lives. And secondly, because modern life increasingly distances us from the source of our food and drink, the clothes we wear and much else.
Before I took today's photograph I was explaining the process of weaving - insofar as I understand it - to my grand-daughter as we watched the sheep fleece pass through the spinner's hands onto the spinning wheel and thence to the bobbin. What fascinated her most was the way the steady up and down foot movement of the spinner on the treadle was, via rods, cranks and wheels converted into very fast rotary movement, and how the mass of wool was drawn into a single strand. It intrigued me too and I was glad that here was someone carrying on this tradition and demonstrating it for all to see.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (160mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.5
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:250
Exposure Compensation: 0
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
Cambridgeshire,
spinning wheel,
tradition,
Wimpole Hall,
wool
Friday, June 07, 2013
Syrup, treacle and memories
click photo to enlarge
Recently, when rummaging about in my garage, I came across two empty tins that for several years served as pen and pencil pots on the desk in my study. They had moved house with us and eventually fallen out of use after I divided up a drawer to make a more convenient way of keep my writing implements organised. They are, of course, no ordinary pen and pencil pots but the empty tins in which we had bought black treacle and golden syrup for baking. The sugar refining company of Abram Lyle who manufactured them have stuck with, essentially, the same design for the tins since they first produced them in 1885, even surviving the merger with Tate in 1921 when Tate & Lyle came into being. The wonderful, ornate designs using green, gold, black and white for the syrup and red, gold, black and white for the treacle, are thought to be Britain's oldest unchanged brands. Metric weights have replaced the imperial pounds and ounces and a bar code label now features on the back, but in most respects the tins are the same as they always were and exactly as I remember them from my childhood.
In fact, the design of these tins was first drawn to my attention by a primary school teacher who was telling us the story of Samson from the Old Testament of the Bible. To enliven the story and give it greater relevance to our lives she asked us to look at one of tins and find out what it had to do with the biblical tale. We discovered that the illustration of the dead lion with a swarm of bees around it and the quotation, "out of the strong came forth sweetness", were derived from a riddle that Samson told and which can be read in the Book of Judges, Chapter 14.
Seeing the tins glowing in the dim light of my garage I thought that they might photograph well so I set them up with a black background and strongly directional natural light amd took this shot.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/4 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off
Recently, when rummaging about in my garage, I came across two empty tins that for several years served as pen and pencil pots on the desk in my study. They had moved house with us and eventually fallen out of use after I divided up a drawer to make a more convenient way of keep my writing implements organised. They are, of course, no ordinary pen and pencil pots but the empty tins in which we had bought black treacle and golden syrup for baking. The sugar refining company of Abram Lyle who manufactured them have stuck with, essentially, the same design for the tins since they first produced them in 1885, even surviving the merger with Tate in 1921 when Tate & Lyle came into being. The wonderful, ornate designs using green, gold, black and white for the syrup and red, gold, black and white for the treacle, are thought to be Britain's oldest unchanged brands. Metric weights have replaced the imperial pounds and ounces and a bar code label now features on the back, but in most respects the tins are the same as they always were and exactly as I remember them from my childhood.
In fact, the design of these tins was first drawn to my attention by a primary school teacher who was telling us the story of Samson from the Old Testament of the Bible. To enliven the story and give it greater relevance to our lives she asked us to look at one of tins and find out what it had to do with the biblical tale. We discovered that the illustration of the dead lion with a swarm of bees around it and the quotation, "out of the strong came forth sweetness", were derived from a riddle that Samson told and which can be read in the Book of Judges, Chapter 14.
Seeing the tins glowing in the dim light of my garage I thought that they might photograph well so I set them up with a black background and strongly directional natural light amd took this shot.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/4 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off
Labels:
Bible,
black treacle,
design,
golden syrup,
Lyle's,
Old Testament,
Samson,
tin,
tradition
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Christmas and tradition
click photo to enlarge
When I was young Christmas card pictures could, by and large, be grouped into three categories: the robin, religious themes and "traditional" scenes. The robin (Erithacus rubecula) was (and still is) popular because it's a bird that is seen more frequently in winter: it visits gardens more often at that time of year because food is scarcer in its usual haunts. Consequently, in many English minds it is thought of as a bird of winter and Christmas, though it is in fact a resident species. The religious themes were drawn mainly from the biblical story of the nativity. Since Christmas is at heart a religious festival it isn't surprising that such cards were, and remain, popular. Then there were the "traditional" scene cards. These showed a snowy Victorian setting, often at early evening. It would be populated with people in frock coats, top hats, bonnets, long dresses, mufflers and the like doing "Christmasy" things - carol singing, wassailing, going to or from a church that had glowing stained glass windows, welcoming Christmas visitors from a stagecoach, carrying lanterns as they visited neighbours etc. Such cards are still available, though not as popular as they once were.It seemed odd to me at the time that a Victorian Christmas should be the one that we fondly gazed back upon. However, the rise of the modern Christmas owes much to that era. Christmas trees, cards, wrapping paper, multiple presents, and more were invented or popularised in the nineteenth century. Some details, such as mistletoe and the yule log were ancient customs, pre-Christian, but they too were brought centre stage at that time. It's often said that the great English novelist, Charles Dickens, invented Christmas as we know it. I think that is to overstate his influence. Through novels such as "A Christmas Carol" he tapped into a current that was already flowing quite strongly, and, though he certainly made a strong impact on how we see the festival (and is probably partly responsible for the "traditional" scene cards), his role was as a contributor, not an inventor .
Looking at my photograph of the centre of the small Lincolnshire village of Bicker set this train of thought in motion. The orange glow of the street lights, the light dusting of snow, the fast-fading light in the sky and the smoke from a chimney all brought to mind traditional scene cards. But it does need those cars to be replaced by a carriage and four!
photograph and text (c) T. Boughen
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/15
ISO: 3200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
Bicker,
Charles Dickens,
Christmas,
evening,
Lincolnshire,
tradition,
village,
winter
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Morris dancing
click photo to enlarge
"When he is dancing the true morris-man is serious of countenance, yet gay of heart; vigorous, yet restrained; a strong man rejoicing in his strength; yet graceful, controlled, and perfectly dignified withal."Cecil Sharp (1859-1924), English folklore and folksong revivalist
Cecil Sharp had very clear and serious views on the revival of traditional English folk dance and song: the quotation above underlines this. What then would he have made of the morris dancing that I experienced at the Old Brewery, Greenwich recently. There were some serious countenances among the assembled morris men and women - mainly from the bandsmen - but in the main there was delight and enjoyment on the faces of the dancers in doing what they did.
Last year I watched some morris dancing in Pershore, Worcestershire, and reflected in the blog post that accompanied my photographs on Thomas Hardy's views about such performances. He distinguished between survivalists and revivalists, noting that the former who carry on the tradition through obligation do not show the same enthusiasm and enjoyment as those who take it up voluntarily in order to to re-kindle an ancient tradition. If Hardy is to be believed - and I think he probably over-stated his case - the Rose and Castle Morris depicted in today's images must count as revivalists because the delight they took in their performance was palpable.
One thing that I found interesting about this particular morris is the fact that, though they come from Stoke Bruerne, Northamptonshire, in the English Midlands, they dance in clogs following the tradition of Lancashire and Cheshire in north-west England.
photographs and text (c) T. Boughen
Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
band,
Morris dancing,
Rose and Castle Morris,
tradition
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Hanging out the washing

Many things have changed over the past fifty odd years of my life but one that hasn't is the best way to dry washing. I can't begin to imagine for how many centuries people have fixed clothes to a washing line and let the sun and wind do their work. However, I do know that my mother did it when I was young, and my wife and I do it still.
It's true that we have both a spin dryer and a tumble dryer. It's also true that in the past we had the high-tec version of the washing line - the rotary dryer with many feet of line folded into a web with a seven foot radius. But our method of choice is the tried and tested lines stretched between vertical posts. Not only is it the cheapest way to dry washing, and the most environmentally friendly method, but it also does the job quickly and efficiently. There is a washing line elaboration that we don't use, however: the clothes prop. This is a long piece of wood, about six or seven feet long, with a notch cut in the end that is used to elevate the line when the washing has been fixed to it. My mother used one but we don't. Perhaps her diminutive stature made it a necessity that our height means we can forgo. Our clothes pegs, made of wood with springs are also quite traditional. Plastic versions are available, as are newer (and older) designs, but we prefer this variety.
After I'd been cutting the grass the other day I noticed the sharp outlines of the washing on its line perfectly reproduced on the lawn, so I asked my wife to stand in a position that would make the picture complete. It took a few attempts over several minutes as the clouds kept drifting across the sun, but I eventually got the shot that I post today.
photograph & text (c) T. Boughen
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (11mm/22mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
clothes line,
pegs,
shadows,
tradition,
washing
Monday, December 01, 2008
Housing, tradition and innovation

The current economic recession has put a damper on the UK housing market, and not before time. Prices were grossly inflated, and people had begun to see houses firstly as investments and only secondly as somewhere to live. But it's not that aspect of housing that concerns me here. Rather, it's the nature of the homes to which many aspire.
It seems to me that the British are infatuated with old houses. Original thatched cottages, stone-built eighteenth century terraces, half-timbered dwellings, Victorian villas, converted barns - all are seen as so desirable that in recent years new versions of these traditional forms have been erected across the country to meet the demand. Sad, but true! And where more obviously modern houses have been erected, too often these have been tricked out with tile-hanging, roof cresting, faux timber, artisan-mannerist brickwork, or other decorative additions to give a hint of the past to the structure. Modern mass-market housing that lacks these embellishments and that unashamedly proclaims its date as the early twenty-first century is regrettably difficult to find, and generally only exists in cities and at the top of the price scale in architect-designed individual buildings.
However, now and again, an enterprising developer tries something different. These houses at Bicker, Lincolnshire, were designed in the UK and manufactured in Sweden. They are a system-built, modular, low-energy design. As far as the UK goes they are quite innovative in terms of their wooden frame and the energy requirements (though these elements are becoming more common). However, they are very innovative in terms of colour, especially in a rural location! Most UK housing is brick coloured. White or cream render is found, and the occasional maverick individual uses a brighter colour. Sometimes very old buildings display a range of tints. It's not common, however, to find a group of new buildings displaying colours such as these. Some don't like it, but I'd like to see more bright, bold new designs being erected - buildings for today that are of today!
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: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
Bicker,
colour,
housing,
Lincolnshire,
low energy housing,
modern housing,
tradition
Friday, June 20, 2008
Roofs, walls and windows
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.
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
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
Labels:
architecture,
housing,
Lincolnshire,
Stamford,
stone buildings,
street,
tradition
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