The Clink

click photo to enlarge
English has several slang words for prison, terms such as "nick" and "glasshouse". Two of this list of words derive from the names of actual prisons. One such is "Bridewell". This was originally one of Henry VIII's residences that was given to the City of London becoming first, an orphanage, then a women's prison. Later it became a poorhouse and prison. The building was demolished in the 1860s but not before its name had become one of the generic terms for prison.

The other actual prison name that attained this generic status was The Clink in Southwark on London's south bank. Its origins are said to date from as early as 1151 and it continued in use until 1780 when it was burned down in the Gordon Riots. Today a visitor attraction that recreates something of this medieval prison can be found on the site of the original Clink on Clink Street near Cannon Street Railway Bridge.

On a recent visit to London we were walking on the south bank and came upon a workman busy with the lighting under one of the arches of the railway bridge that holds the riverside path. The matrix of multi-coloured LEDs works in the shadows of daylight and the darkness of night and adds colour and distinction to this ancient passage-way.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm (45mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/50 sec
ISO:3600
Exposure Compensation: 0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Mending the wind turbine

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The theoretical output of a wind farm does not equal the actual output. Anyone who lives in the vicinity of a site with multiple turbines will know that frequently, while most of them spin and generate their electricity, one or two stand stationary, unco-operative, almost looking like they are sulking and refusing to join in. It's at these times that you see a van parked at the base of the sullen turbine, the entry door at the tower base open, with a worker inside persuading it to join its comrades in making their joint effort at energy generation.

However, sometimes the fault is of a nature that requires more than tinkering with the innards of the beast: the problem resides high up in a location that can only be accessed from the outside. In these circumstances workers with a climber's skills in abseiling are called upon. One recent morning I was cycling in the sunshine past a wind farm when I noticed a cable like a long, slender thread, hanging from the top of a motionless turbine. There was not one but THREE vans parked at its base. Clearly a three van problem was no ordinary hitch. I stopped and looked up at the hub and as I did so noticed the head of a man appear. He slowly worked his way round to the front of the turbine and began to abseil down the vertical blade. At that moment a second man appeared and followed him down, but on the opposite side.

A photo opportunity such as this was too good to miss so I took out my compact camera and began firing off shots. Whatever problem needed resolving was one that required a long rod with a piece of strong, bent wire on the end because that appeared to be the main implement being used. With movements that varied between balletic grace and the shuffling awkwardness of a spider with a few missing legs, the men moved down the turbine blade to its very tip. Then, their work presumably completed, they lowered themselves the still not inconsiderable distance to the ground. As I reviewed my shots and got back on my bicycle ready to make my way home I noticed that the company name on the side of the men's van included the name "ibex" and a picture of that wild goat of the mountains. Pedalling along the drove road it occurred to me that, on the basis of what I had seen, some type of arachnid might be a more appropriate animal to advertise their undoubted skills.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Living the high-rise life

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On my recent trip to London I walked up the south bank of the Thames, past the MI5 building, to Vauxhall to see St George Wharf and, in particular, a new 50 storey residential tower that is approaching completion. This area has been developed with a complex of expensive and distinctive, river-side towers and blocks. The shiny new skyscraper that has grown up beside them seems to have settled on the generic and rather presumptuous name of The Tower.

Will such a name last? Can it when it is one among many towers? Is this a grab for a name that distinguishes it from all the other particular towers? Who knows? What I do know is that already the building has a certain fame and notoriety. On completion its 594 feet (181 metres) it will be the tallest residential tower in the UK, and this fact has caused some commentators to say it is too high for the area and too high for its relative proximity to the Palace of Westminster. Fame of a different type attached to the tower when, on 16th January 2013, a helicopter struck the construction crane attached to the building, causing the helicopter to crash into the road below, hitting two cars, killing the pilot and another person, and setting two buildings on fire. Such an occurrence is, thankfully, very uncommon, yet the fact that it has happened once must put the thought of it happening again into the minds of some high-rise residents, and will make people consider the down-side as well as the up-side (pun intended) of high-rise living.

The exterior of the new tower is, to my mind, fine without being particularly special. The broadly cylindrical shape is not unpleasant but doesn't offer an overall form or specific details that strongly distinguish it from others or that cause the viewer's gaze to linger. The blue glass looks attractive, as blue glass often does, yet one has to wonder how much longer it can survive as the default tint. The tower is topped by a disguised wind turbine to power some of its lighting and heat-pump technology will take warmth from the water of the London aquifer. These and other design features will mean it needs about one third of the energy that a typical tower of this size consumes, and its carbon dioxide emissions will be half to two thirds that of a similar structure.

I spent a few minutes watching the workmen as they went about the task of putting the finishing touches to the building. Two orange clad men made useful indicators of the scale of the structure. They were dangling on ropes and appeared to be washing the windows (surely not) or applying something to the glass or glazing frame. Incidentally, the smaller photo is a crop of a larger image.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20.4mm (55mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Blogger image backgrounds and those rings

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Many people have increasing concerns about the power, reach and intrusiveness of Google. Blogger is owned by Google and is one of their many free offerings. From the time I started using it in 2005 there has been the facility to add advertisements to a Blogger blog and for the blogger to make money (usually very small amounts) from so doing. The Google word for this is "monetize", a horrible construction. I've never had the desire or need to do so, and this blog is advertisement-free, a situation I don't foresee changing. Of course part of this process involves Google making quite a bit of money from the advertisements, based on key-words, that are placed in the blog. Consequently I suppose that by not using advertisements I'm taking advantage of Google's benevolence. But, they don't seem to mind so neither do I.

I do wonder, however, if Google has its ear closer to the ground than even the conspiracy theorists imagine. In the Comments of a very recent post there was an exchange of views concerning the effect of the white background that accompanied the enlarged view of a photograph. On some subjects it doesn't work very well, is overpowering, and is at odds with the black background of the blog pages. Well, quite soon after that date the background to enlarged photos was changed to black. Were Google listening in, or was it one of the planned incremental changes that are regularly rolled out? Whatever the reason - and it hasn't been trumpeted anywhere by Google that I've noticed - I like it. And, at the risk of pushing my luck I'd like to suggest that it be retrospectively applied to older posts too.

All of which has nothing to do with today's photograph of abseiling workmen on Tower Bridge in London. I spotted them as we walked past the other day. They appeared to be doing something electrical, perhaps installing the enhanced lighting that will illuminate it during the Olympics. I read that, in addition, a set of large, illuminated Olympic rings will hang from the bridge during the Games. When I first heard of this proposal I tried to imagine a worse combination of the insensitive and the tawdry. But I couldn't.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 300mm (plus crop)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO: 1000
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Shots I've missed No. 172

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About a week ago as I was driving along the main road through Gosberton, Lincolnshire, I glanced across at the 160 feet tall spire of the medieval church of St Peter & St Paul. Fortunately the road was quite clear because I took my eyes off it for longer than I anticipated as I did a "double take". I'd spotted, half-way up the spire, the outline of a man climbing a ladder that had been fixed to it. Across his back, at right angles to his body, was another ladder. The man was a steeplejack, and I immediately knew what he was doing. A few weeks previously I'd been to the flower festival at the church, and a parishioner had told me that a new weather vane was soon to be fixed to the top of the spire. This man was clearly starting the preparatory work of assembling sections of aluminium ladder that stretch from the top of the square tower, up the tapering spire to its very tip. Once that was completed a scaffold platform would be erected around the top of the spire, allowing the work to begin.

My heart sank. Why? Because I didn't have my camera with me! One of the reasons I use Olympus cameras is the relatively small size of their bodies and lenses. That makes them easier to carry, and therefore much more likely that I'll have it with me. But, here I was with a wonderful photo opportunity and no camera. I could have wept! However, my mission was the weekly shopping, so I gritted my teeth and drove on, cursing my ineptitude. Yesterday, as I drove along on this week's shopping expedition, I looked at the spire expecting to see the weather vane in place. But, work had proceeded slower than I anticipated, and the men were in the process of assembling their work platform. Determined to seize the moment this time I took a small detour and grabbed a few shots of them about their business. Compared with the workers who construct the gleaming towers of Shanghai or Dubai, these men weren't very high above the ground. But unlike their high-tech counterparts they had the major disadvantage of working on an inclined stone surface that was built 500 to 600 years ago, and which has been subject to a damp climate for all of that time. Furthermore, a fall from the top of this spire would leave you every bit as dead as a fall from the latest Middle Eastern mega-tower. It certainly isn't a job that I'd relish.

My photographs aren't much to write home about, and, at the risk of sounding like a fisherman, can in no way compare with the one I missed. However, the subject of the images will be unfamiliar to many, and you might find them of interest. The moral of this tale is, of course, always have your camera with you because you can guarantee that the best shots will present themselves the moment you leave it at home. And the title of this entry? I thought it would make a good companion piece for Photographic Tip Number 127.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Image 1 (2)
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (142mm) (80 (284mm)mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1 (7.1)
Shutter Speed: 1/800 (1/1250) seconds
ISO: 200 (200)
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 (-0.7) EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Enjoying confusion

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For much of my life, as an educator, my task was to make clarity out of the complexity and confusion in the minds of students. When I ascended the hierarchy of management I was expected to do the same with the staff that I deployed. It's a laudable aim in that line of work, and elsewhere in the world. Minds greater than mine are attempting to do just that with the banking system, and I hope, for all our sakes, that they succeed.

And yet, perhaps because it seems mankind's unending task to explain the world to itself, there is sometimes great pleasure to be had in contemplating confusion rather than interpreting it. Nowhere is this more evident than in the arts. Film, novels, fine art and photography revel in presenting confusion, or apparent confusion, to the viewer and reader. That confusion can be interpreted, the "meaning" extracted, and an attempt made to understand it; or it can enjoyed at a visceral, literal level, as elemental, unsettling perplexity.

Today's photograph presents confusion in visual form. I could explain what is going on in the image, how the architecture works, what is being reflected, what is inside the glass and what is outside. But I won't. When I saw this scene I enjoyed it for what it was, a puzzling, disorienting arrangement of forms, and that is how I present it.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On