Black and white flowers?

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Of all the photographic subjects that might benefit from conversion to black and white flowers appear to be the least suitable. It's true that photographers find them an attractive subject because of the shapes of their blooms and leaves, their growth habits and locations, the way gardeners and arrangers plant and display them, etc. But it's surely the variety, strength and subtlety of their colours that is the main quality that draws us into pointing our cameras at them. Consequently, most of the photographs of flowers that we see are colour images and very few are monochrome.

And yet some of the secondary qualities beyond colour are reason enough to consider converting the right subject to black and white. In the past I've found the subtle gradations of grey that appear when a rose bloom is converted to black and white to be very appealing.

Today's photograph is of a flower that I wouldn't have thought of converting to black and white until I had processed the colour shot and was sitting in front of my computer reflecting on the finished image. I'd chosen my usual black background for the yellow flowers, green leaves and clear glass vase and that gave it a very strong silhouette. It was the overall compositional shape - a variant of Hogarth's serpentine "line of beauty" - that made me have a look at the shot in black and white. The conversion made the silhouette (reverse silhouette I suppose) stronger, and the yellow blooms retained their impact as greys and white. The final image, with a little judicious dodging of the individual flowers stands as a photograph every bit as strongly as the colour version but offers something different to the viewer. Of course, placing colour  and black and white versions of the same shot side by side tends to make the viewer choose which they prefer. However,the question about colour and black and white need not be one of "either" and "or" but can simply be about "also"!

Incidentally, the flower in question is one that I always call Kerria but I looked up the Royal Horticultural Society's "preferred common name" and found it to be Japanese Rose. That doesn't seem to me a particularly descriptive name because, though the plant is biologically part of the Rosaceae family, it has none of the most commonly understood characteristics of the rose. I'd have chosen one of the other charming and traditional English names that have been bestowed on the plant down the years - probably "Bachelor's Buttons"!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 0.6 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

Modern architecture and caustic criticism

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On a recent visit to London I stopped briefly in front of the Cottons Centre on the south bank of the Thames, raised my camera and took this photograph of the zig-zag walls and the the green-tinted windows reflecting the early morning sky. I liked the detailing of this building the first time I saw it and I like it still. The smooth, cream finish appeals to me and contrasts well with the narrow, terracotta-coloured lines that mark vertical edges and the boundary of each storey. There is a folded, stepped, and chamfered, origami-like quality to this part of the elevation that I find attractive. The way the exterior has the feeling of a technical drawing is something that I like too. Though not a star building among those found in London, in fact, not one that gets much mention in the books on the city's modern architecture, the Cottons Centre has many good qualities and is a positive addition to its location. It's the sort of building that makes me wonder why there are still people who lament modern architecture and always compare it unfavourably with older buildings.

I was thinking about this as I walked by the Thames and I also fell to reflecting on some of the quotations that I know about modern architecture. It occurred to me that whilst I strongly disagree with the blanket "new is bad, old is good" school of architectural criticism, the caustic comments of such people are usually much funnier than any dreamed up by those who defend modern buildings. To illustrate that point here, for your entertainment, are a few such words of wisdom.

"What has happened to architecture since the second world war that the only passers-by who can contemplate it without pain are those equipped with a white stick and a dog?"
Bernard Levin (1928-2004), English journalist, author and broadcaster

“In my experience, if you have to keep the lavatory door shut by extending your left leg, it's modern architecture.”
Nancy Banks-Smith (1929- ), British television and radio critic

"The Sydney Opera House looks as if it is something that has crawled out of the sea and is up to no good."
Beverley Nichols (1898-1983) English author, playwright, journalist etc

"Personally I think all modern architects should be pulled down and redeveloped as car parks."
Spike Milligan (1918-2002) Irish/English comedian, writer, actor, musician etc

"I declare this thing open - whatever it is."
Prince Philip (1921- ) consort of Queen Elizabeth II: on opening a new annex at Vancouver City Hall.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Saxon architecture

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There are 238 churches in England with traces or substantial parts that are of Anglo-Saxon, that is to say pre-Conquest, origin. The Saxons were fine sculptors and illustrators who gave primacy to the line above all else. They were a people who built mainly in wood and for this reason none of their houses have survived. Many of their churches were made of wood too, and of these only one example remains, at Greensted, near Ongar, in Essex. However, they did build churches in stone. Some, such as that at Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire, is as it was first built. Most of the others have been enlarged during the Norman or the Gothic periods.

The church at Barton upon Humber, Lincolnshire, was originally a small Saxon building of the late 900s. It consisted of three parts: a western porticus/baptistery, a 22 feet by 22feet (exterior measurements) tower that served as a nave, and a chancel 15 feet long. This was extended in the mid-eleventh century and the twelfth century, but this later work was taken down when a larger extension was built in the thirteenth, mid-fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. What is surprising, but not unique, is the fact that the original Saxon work was allowed to remain. Perhaps it was because the tower continued to serve its purpose and the cost and difficulty of replacing it couldn't be countenanced.

A visitor to the church today is struck by the bright, airy space of the Gothic nave, aisles and chancel compared with the diminutive, badly lit spaces of the Saxon structure. The quality of workmanship and the contrast between the amount and style of decoration is also marked: the Saxon looks positively crude next to the Gothic. And yet, this crudity has an elemental sturdiness that is quite appealing. Capitals are not elaborately carved and decorated with faces and leaves as in the Gothic nave, rather they are simple, heavy blocks. The arches - above we see the one linking the tower with the porticus/baptistery - are narrow due to the semi-circular head and the understandable caution the Saxon builders exercised when spanning spaces in this way. But decoration of a sort there is. Those outer strips that frame the arch using alternating long and short strips of stone (often called, appropriately enough, "long and short work") are decorative with no structural purpose. It has been conjectured that these strips (they are visible on the outside of the tower too) hark back to the Saxons' wooden constructions.

This building is now in the care of English Heritage and it is their lighting that drew me into taking the photograph. Its brightness is necessary to allow visitors to safely negotiate the dimly lit spaces. However, it is sufficiently subdued that it both gives something of the effect there must have been when the Saxon church was lit by candles or tallow lamps, and also offers the photographer an attractive, contrasty, atmospheric composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.5mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fading tulips

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There is a great temptation in photography to shoot beautiful subjects when they are at their most appealing. Landscapes, women, babies, cars, sunsets, you name the subject and you'll find  numerous photographs showing them at their best. The light, the sky, the pose, the backdrop, every detail will be in place to show the subject off off to dazzling effect.

It's even more so with flowers. In fact, though it's reasonably easy to find, say, good landscapes where the weather is grim and conventional beauty has been discarded in favour of the stern beauty of nature in the raw, just try and find a flower photograph with blooms past their best and I guarantee you'll struggle.

Painters have long known the different kind of beauty that can be seen in fading flowers, a muted attractiveness that is hinted at or remembered rather than displayed openly before your eyes. It was this effect that I sought when I photographed the tulips shown in today's photograph. But, it hasn't quite worked out as I wanted. Why? Well, if you are unfamiliar with what tulips look like at the peak of their perfection you might think that the flowers in this blue glass vase are just rather fine blooms that natural spread their petals in this rather attractive way. The fact the flowers are fading, are past their best, are naturally shedding their petals and are soon to be just stems isn't necessarily obvious, and even if it is, there remains a beauty that isn't particularly tinged with a feeling of imminent demise: there is still plenty of deep colour in the petals and little sense of the faded beauty that I sought to capture. So, I've kept the flowers and I'll try again when their petals develop brown edges and their decline looks a bit more terminal!

Addendum:Here are the same tulips two days later (Fading Tulips 2), the petals rather more wrinkled and curled,the colours more muted, a hint of brownness about them, but still not everything I envisaged. Having reflected further on the matter I've concluded that I chose the wrong colour tulips for this exercise. It would have been much better to use dark red or dark purple. In fact, any colour with less brilliance than yellow would have suited my purposes. A lesson learned. Perhaps next time...

Addendum 2:
A final shot (Fading Tulips 3), three days after the first one, and one day after the second. Still not quite there. It's definitely the basic colours of the tulip that's wrong for the photograph I'm seeking.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 1/4 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

Ordinary lives recorded

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I visit a lot of churches and churchyards and see many gravestones and memorials. In Britain the earliest in parish churches (as opposed to cathedrals, abbeys, minsters etc) date from the 1600s. Over the years I've seen examples from every century between that time and the present day. Some catch my eye with their opulence, others their elegance, a few because they depart from the conventions of the day, and then some because they are - how shall I put it - simple and unaffected, in fact, ordinary.

Today's photograph falls into the latter category. It tells, in plain language, using modest lettering - no decorative flourishes - who is remembered and the basic facts about their length of life and date of death. A poignant note is struck by the reference to "5 Children who died in their Infancy" but it is added in a matter-of-fact way. There is no pictorial or decorative carving, no cherubs or leaves, no wreaths or borders.  The only "extra" added to the basic facts is a short verse of four lines. Who were these people? I don't know. They were sufficiently well-off to have a memorial in the church (unless it was brought in at a later date to be used as flooring), but probably not well-to-do, perhaps an example of the "mute inglorious Milton" that Thomas Gray wrote about. Whoever wrote or chose the verse - perhaps James Bygott himself - had clearly seen and been repelled by the sort of memorial I've frequently come across: the ones that gush on in an unrestrained and often ludicrous manner about the wonderful qualities of the deceased and how he was (it's usually a man) held in the highest esteem by all who knew him, regardless of their station in life. The four lines on this memorial are an effective riposte to such bombast.

It occurred to me as I read the memorial again on the screen of my computer that the lives briefly recorded are ordinary ones. The death of multiple children was once commonplace. Death in middle age of a (only surviving?) daughter was not unusual, nor was a lifespan that didn't quite reach the "threescore years and ten" described in the King James version of the Bible. All of which prompted a feeling of gratitude for the longer, healthier lives that we experience and expect today.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 320
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Keisby Wood's dark past

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Keisby Wood near Folkingham, Lincolnshire, is not all it seems. On the face of it this is a typical area of lowland woodland, somewhat neglected but with evidence of recent felling and thinning by the Forestry Commission. However, the visitor who walks the footpaths among the trees cannot help but notice concrete paths, sections of brick wall disappearing beneath the ivy and, every now and then, shattered concrete buildings, slabs resting on each other, broken edges facing skyward and all succumbing to a covering of leaf mould and moss. Today's photograph shows one such structure that is but a few years away from disappearing entirely under vegetation at which point it will have every appearance of a natural outcrop of rock.

What are these old buildings? The utilitarian nature of the shapes and materials together with the large areas of concrete covering the neighbouring fields did rather give the game away, but only after a little research when we got home was all revealed. They are relics of the second world war and later, all that remains of the airfield known as RAF Folkingham. This base became operational in 1940 and was used by the RAF and, later, by the United States Army Air Forces. Paratroops and manned gliders towed by transport aircraft flew from the base during the invasion of Europe and for later supporting actions.

After the war flying ceased and in 1947 the base was closed. BRM motors used the extensive runways for racing car testing. However, the Cold War saw a further military use for the site. In 1959 three Thor mobile Intermediate Range Ballistic Missiles (IRBMs) were located there with an RAF unit. These nuclear missiles, each capable of destroying a large city and all its inhabitants, were ready for firing with 15 minutes notice and remained in position until 1963. The base closed when the IRBMs were replaced by the deployment of  Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs) on the United States mainland and, in the UK, the RAF's V-Bomber force of Valiant, Victor and Vulcan aircraft equipped with the Blue Steel stand-off nuclear missile. Today the airfield is used for the storage of old agricultural vehicles, lorries etc.

As we walked through the woodland great tits and chaffinches flew on ahead of us. All was calm, quiet and peaceful. We were oblivious of the aircraft that flew from here seventy years ago and the missiles that sat on their launch vehicles, thankfully never needing to be fired. On our next visit we'll look a little more closely and view the sylvan scene in a rather different light.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm
F No: f8
 Shutter Speed: 1/40 sec
ISO: 500
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Democratic responsibilities

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Living under the benefits of a democracy confers rights as well as responsibilities. One of the duties, it seems to me, is to remain informed about politics and take part in it from a position of knowledge and principle. Sadly, our most recent county council elections demonstrate that quite a few electors show scant sign of such engagement. Moreover, these and other elections have shown that we are unable to expect it even from some of those who seek public office. As those from these islands might realise, I am thinking about the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP) who garnered a significant number of councillors at the expense of all of the other parties, but from the Conservatives in particular.

One only has to read what pass for the policies (main UKIP website unavailable at time of writing!) of this party to realise that its position is broadly right-wing and populist, that its underlying principles are not developed in the way that we have a right to expect from serious politicians and that its national profile rests almost exclusively on the shoulders of its leader. According to a news report some senior UKIP figures recognise that the absence of policies is a failing and have considered buying them from right-leaning think tanks!

Those who voted for UKIP seem to have done so for a variety of reasons, few of which I find defensible. Some are attracted by all or individual policies - fair enough - but many are so undeveloped as to be no more than items on a wish-list. Many say they are fed up with the indistinguishable metropolitan elite who head the other parties, an argument I have some sympathy with but one that fatally and naively concentrates on personalities rather than policies. Others say it was to send the main parties a message that they are not giving enough attention to the matters that concern them. Perhaps such people should have been assiduously lobbying their MPs and government rather than relying on a single trip to the ballot box to express their concerns. Then there are those who voted for the UKIP leader because he is "different" from the other party leaders, more "human", more forthright, not part of the establishment. Anyone holding this view simply hasn't been paying attention. I find it hard to see much difference between the backgrounds of the present prime minister and the leader of UKIP. The latter is, apparently, the son of a stockbroker, someone who attended Dulwich College, a private, fee-paying school, and who worked as a commodity broker in the City before entering politics. That is a background, it seems to me, with more than a hint of the establishment and the metropolitan elite about it. As one observer humorously and perceptively noted, the UKIP leader's appeal and approach share a lot in common with that of the current mayor of London. To my mind that is not an endorsement but an indictment.

All this has little to do with today's photograph of a part of London on the south bank, in Southwark, called English Grounds. If I were to try and establish some sort of connection I would do it by saying that this view, like the political party discussed above, isn't entirely what it seems.

photo and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18.9mm (51mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Trees and louvres, More London

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When photographers use the word "contrast" they usually mean a marked difference between dark and light areas in a photograph. In black and white photography this can be achieved by seeking out compositions that naturally feature areas that are white or almost so as well as very dark or black areas. Another means of increasing contrast in this type of photography is to use a red, orange or yellow filter. In wet photography, of course, it can also be introduced during enlarging and developing too by techniques such as "burning" and "dodging". Contrast in the light/dark sense of is clearly possible in colour photography too, not least by shooting against the light.

However, the word contrast can be used in a different way, to mean a clear and visible difference of character (rather than tone) between one part of the image and another. This photograph of two adjacent shrubs shows that sort of contrast, as do aspects of this shot of Southwold Pier, particularly where the name sits against the clear sky and the dark shadows of the railings overlay the concrete and wooden decking. Architects often make use of contrast (or counterpoint) particularly when they use the soft, irregular lines and textures of natural vegetation against the hard, sharp surfaces of their buildings. This photograph of the City of London Information Centre (near St Paul's cathedral) exemplifies what I mean. So too does today's photograph.

The shot shown above has little contrast in the light/dark sense, but plenty as a result of the ragged lines of the tree branches against the hard, straight lines of the  external louvre screening. The latter is used to moderate the solar gain affecting these buildings on the edge of More London. I've photographed details of these particular buildings before, but on a recent visit I stepped further back to capture the contrast that the architects had introduced into the composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

White roses

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I was raised in the white rose county of Yorkshire but, because I was born in Westmorland, I've never considered myself a true Yorkshireman. Our boys are Yorkshire-born, as my wife, but I still see myself as a son of Westmorland, an ancient county that in 1974 was carelessly and unthinkingly parcelled up with Cumberland and part of Lancashire into the newly formed county of Cumbria. However, when I was growing up I seem to have absorbed some of the characteristics of Yorkshire being both stubborn and argumentative, proud of the area in which I lived and showing a certain disdain for the neighbouring red rose county of Lancashire.

The Wars of the Roses on which the Yorkshire/Lancashire rivalry is based was something that was impressed on us children, and I was fascinated by the way that, after much bloodshed, the two roses symbolic of the two counties were combined to form the Tudor rose. That union did not, however, end the rivalry between the counties. For example, during every childhood summer I took note of the outcome of the regular cricket matches between Yorkshire and Lancashire, always rooting for my adoptive county. But then, after thirty odd years living in Yorkshire I lived for twenty years in Lancashire. That put an end to any vestigial disdain for Lancastrians because in living among them I found them to be friendly people with an equally fine and interesting county of which they are justifiably proud.

I was thinking about my childhood affection for the white rose the other day when, with a visiting friend, we went to a few of the local church flower festivals. One particular display featured a variety of white flowers against a black background and I selected part of it for this shot of a group of white roses. The lighting in the church was such that it only needed a bit of underexposure and some "burning" during the post processing for me to make the blooms "float" against the black card the arrangers had used to show off the flowers.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 640
Exposure Compensation:  -0.7 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

Reflections on the Millennium Footbridge, London

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The brouhaha that accompanied the opening of London's Millennium Footbridge - it was immediately closed for over a year to correct a wobble induced by large numbers of pedestrians - overshadowed the ambitious nature of the design. Now that it has been in daily use for over a decade the daring of its designer, Norman Foster (assisted by Arup Associates and the sculptor Sir Anthony Caro) is somewhat taken for granted. Consequently I'd like to review just what makes it such an ambitious conception.

The Millennium Footbridge was the first new Thames crossing since the construction of Tower Bridge, and the first ever designed solely for pedestrians. Its novel shape arises from the designers' intention that the views from the bridge of the river and the city should be as clear and as uninterrupted as possible. River traffic and the desire to thrill produced a central span of 320 metres. Only two supports are placed in the water, quite close to the banks. These are elegant "Y" shapes. Looking at the structure it's not immediately apparent that it is, essentially, a suspension bridge. The cables are not slung in the usual manner and closely follow the contour of the deck, never rising more than 7 feet 6 inches (2.3 metres) above it.

The bridge looks slight but strong. It is highly popular with people and makes the journey from St Paul's Cathedral to Tate Modern and the South Bank (and vice versa) a dramatic and exciting walk. My main photograph is taken from the point where a slope up from the south bank riverside walk splits and then rejoins and the footbridge arcs up and over the Thames. I've photographed the bridge before, including from that same viewpoint - see here and here.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen


Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18.5mm (50mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Etonians, education and power

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I saw in my newspaper the other day that Jesse Norman MP thinks Etonians (products of Eton public, i.e. private, school) are dominant in the government because other schools do not have the same "commitment to public service". When I read it I was dumbfounded that someone who had received that gilded education didn't understand the purpose of places such as Eton and the main reason why parents send their children to them.

He might think it's to receive a good education. So might you. But you'd be wrong. The main reason is to maintain or to improve the social position of the individual. This is done by the schools not only charging high, riff-raff excluding fees, but ensuring they are very effective exam factories at which pupils get high grades (not the same as a good education), passes that will allow them to apply to Oxford or Cambridge, or at the very least, to one of the Russell Group of universities. Importantly, they also give pupils the opportunity to mix with others of the same advantaged background, to network with people who have similar aims, and with them to move into jobs of power and influence where they will earn a lot of money. In such advantaged circles it often means that who you know trumps what you know, that jobs can be offered by grace and favour, and that interviews may be formalities rather than the sifting process they are for the most people. Far too many of our current crop of politicians have benefited from this process and seek to confer its advantages on their own children.

The idea that Etonians have any more "commitment to public service" than the products of state schools or even other private schools is risible. I never came across any of Eton's finest when, during the course of my job, I met social workers or other mainstream public sector workers. Politics used to be seen by many aspiring MPs as a way of serving the public but today voter disenchantment is, in part, because the main motive now appears to be self-serving aggrandisement. I think that the Etonians who go into politics are no different from politicians of different backgrounds in this respect. A while ago I spoke as a member of a panel at a meeting about the forthcoming general election. At one point the discussion turned to education. I said that what I didn't want was another crop of politicians to be elected that came from the same so-called elite schools and universities because they had no understanding of wider society and lacked the skills necessary to move our country forwards. I remember a fellow panellist (echoing the man who is currently prime minister) saying that a politician's background isn't important. Nothing I've seen from this incompetent Coalition government has made me change my views that it does matter enormously.

Jesse Norman's words came to mind as I was processing this photograph of London's City Hall, a shot I took on my recent visit to the capital. I remembered that another old Etonian, Boris Johnson, is currently mayor. I'd say bad luck London, but the voters have seen fit to vote him in twice. To me that says much about the level of political understanding and engagement in the UK. What people have forgotten is that Old Etonians and their kind flourish and the rest of us languish when the voting public pays little attention to politics and is more interested in celebrity, status and the status quo.

For a couple more of my photographs of Norman Foster's building see here and here.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20.4mm (55mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On  

Advertising puzzles me

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Ever since the invention of the TV remote control our household has muted the adverts. Consequently I am unable to take part in conversations about such things since, while I may have seen the advert in question I won't have heard it. Choosing to avoid advertisements seems to me a perfectly reasonable thing to do, though I know not everyone will agree. The fact is I can't understand why we should willingly co-operate with companies trying to sell us things we neither want or need.

The particular pitches that advertisers choose puzzles me too. Take celebrity endorsement. We all know that such people are paid to either wear, use or promote the product in question. That being the case, why would we be influenced by the blandishments of David Beckham, George Clooney, Sienna Miller (whoever she is) or anyone else? Or what about the way so-called "up-market", that is to say expensive, products are sold. Muted, often monochrome colours, plenty of white space in print advertisements, few words but in classic fonts, "under-stated" design, models that don't smile and other "less is more" tricks are used to suggest that a product sits at the top of its market. But if all this is obvious - and surely it is - why do advertisers persist with it and why are buyers influenced by it? Perhaps the pitches are not as unsubtle as I think, or maybe people want to believe it all and suspend their critical faculties in such situations.

I pondered advertising methods recently after coming upon a whisky company publicising its wares outside The Design Museum in London. They'd set up a framework from which models of dark clouds were suspended, a sound system was simulating thunder, flashing lights represented lightning, and heavy rain periodically fell on members of the public who volunteered to stand in the centre of all this wearing brand name-emblazoned waterproofs  and similarly badged umbrellas. Apparently the word "storm" featured in the whisky's name and the "weather" was intended to give the public a taste of what is regularly experienced on the Isle of Skye whence the drink comes. Oh, and the lucky punters who subjected themselves to this ordeal had the chance to win a bottle of the beverage. I suppose my reaction could be best described as bemused, so i took a couple of photographs and walked on.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.9
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Reflecting on cameras and capital cities

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A recent couple of days in London coincided with the two warmest days of the year so far and I returned to a cooler, windier, wetter Lincolnshire with a face turned ruddy by the sun. I'd gone to our capital city for a small family gathering. However, the visit also became an experiment with my recently acquired compact camera and I made it an opportunity to photograph some of the city's most recent buildings as well as those that have been around for a few years.

The best way to get to know a camera such as my Sony RX100 is to use it. So, I made it my sole camera for the trip and turned its one inch sensor and 28-100mm (35mm equiv.) lens to the sort of uses that I would usually apply my Canon 5D Mk2 and its 24-105mm, 17-40mm and Tamron 70-300mm lenses. What do I conclude? The Sony does a remarkable job. The screen coped in all but the brightest conditions and I could usually compose quite satisfactorily. Having 20.2 megapixels allows for  quite a bit of cropping without the file size becoming too small, consequently the effective focal length can be easily doubled. Unfortunately its not as easy to widen beyond 28mm. I like 24mm as my standard wide focal length, but all cameras are compromises of one sort or another and this is one I'll live with. I shot JPG only rather than RAW or RAW + JPG. It's less flexible, but less work too, and I found that satisfactory. The colours are good, quite "film-like". The biggest drawback was that a couple of times I inadvertently pressed the movie record button. It's all well and good making movie recording easy, but it's a touch too easy with this camera.

On our second day I walked ten miles round the city in search of shots. I was particularly keen to see how the 20 Fenchurch Street skyscraper (nicknamed "The Walkie Talkie") is coming on, and whether its appearance is improving as it starts to approach completion. The answer to that last question is a resounding "No". It seems to me that this building is the wrong shape and the wrong size for its location which is too detached from the main group of tall City towers and too close to the river. Moreover it intrudes far too much on the view of Tower Bridge from the south.

The other thought I had as I followed the course of the River Thames through the city is that London continues to hog far too much of the nation's spending on infrastructure. I got a real sense that the effects of the depression that are felt right across the rest of the country are barely impinging on the metropolis and that this can only lead to further regional and social divisions that will have bad consequences.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18.2mm (49mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Pylons, form and function

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It's usually the case that when the form of an object is based closely on its function the result is pleasing to the eye, but when styling, fashion and decoration become the dominant reason for a shape then too often the result is unsatisfactory. Bridges are structures where the functional imperative is invariably uppermost and the result is usually satisfying. So too is the case with most hand tools such as hammers or saws, and there are many other examples that can be used to illustrate the point. However, there is one structure where form follows function quite perfectly but the result is always awful - the electricity pylon.

Whenever I see pylons marching across the countryside like a line of giant people holding up a long skipping rope I do my best to mentally obliterate them. Try as I might I cannot appreciate the form that the designers came up with to carry the wires from power station to homes. I can admire it in an intellectual way, marvelling at the economy of means, the way the multitude of short pieces of angle iron are bolted together to form legs, bodies and arms, how lighter lengths are inserted for bracing and plates are used at important intersections, but I cannot see the pylon as a thing of beauty. Even were it not an alien interloper into fields, fens, estuary, moorland and mountain, but an object assembled and displayed for our delight, an aesthetic experience, I cannot love a pylon. At least not the current crop of them.

I have seen proposals for more "elegant"designs featuring tubes and curves, some with a touch of art nouveau about them, but I've never seen them in use anywhere. Perhaps one day. And perhaps then they will be held up as an example of the fact that styling can occasionally, very occasionally, trump function when it comes to producing a satisfying shape.

Today's pylon is a bit of an oddity. It is the last one in a long line that is configured to take the cables down to a substation. Consequently it is not quite as symmetrical as the usual 400kV pylon, a characteristic I have accentuated by photographing it off-centre.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Water lily leaves and macro lenses

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Over the years I've discovered that a garden becomes much bigger when you own a macro lens. If I were to photograph my garden solely with a 35mm or 50mm lens of the sort I used for many years with a film SLR the number and variety of photographs that my garden provides for me would be significantly reduced.

I enjoy taking macro photographs of plants, but the interesting thing is, even if you aren't using a macro lens at what we might consider to be a macro level of magnification the very fact that you have it mounted on your camera makes you look closely at smaller areas of the garden, at individual plants, single blooms or at one or two leaves. A camera with a wider angle of view and without the ability to focus at close range, though it doesn't always makes such shots impossible, usually makes them difficult, and more importantly doesn't give you the mindset where you go in close, focusing on small details.

Today's photograph is a case in point. I was in the garden with the 100mm macro lens with the camera on the tripod photographing individual blooms. Then, when I took it off the tripod, even though it has technically a telephoto length, I took several hand-held shots from no more than close range. The lily leaves in our small pond hold endless fascination for me. At this time of year the new ones are emerging from below the surface of the water, brown in colour, but soon to be green when they start photosynthesising. I like their shape and size, the way they look against the water and the submerged vegetation, and how the meniscus layer of the water is very evident as they slowly push upwards into the air and light. This isn't the first such shot that I've taken of these leaves and regular visitors will be relieved to find that I'm not going to provide links to those previous shots!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO: 640
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Holographic ribbon

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I recently posted a photograph showing a macro shot of several lengths of the metallic holographic ribbons that I'm currently using as a bird scaring device to protect an area we've sown with grass seed. In the manner of all such material it displays rainbow colours when it catches the light. However, when you look at the ribbon in a casual rather than a concentrated way the word you would use to describe the essential colour of the ribbon would be "silver".

The other day I attempted to take a photograph of the ribbon to show its silver colour and the patterns that cover its surface. But I couldn't! No matter how I placed the ribbon, whether in light or shade, and regardless of the angle I chose when pointing the camera at it, I could not see through the viewfinder that which seems apparent when I watch it blowing in the wind in my garden. Initially I thought there might be something happening due to the combination of lens/viewfinder and the ribbon surface. But that really can't be. The conclusion I've come to is this: when I look at it casually with my naked eye the image my brain "sees" is a combination of all the dominant areas of silver and I ignore the other specks of colour. However, when I look at through my lens, within the confines of the viewfinder frame, my eye is drawn to each of the iridescent areas and these dominate my visual perception rather than the silver areas. I found that interesting, and another example of the adage that I've long held to be true - "the camera always lies".

So, having failed in my attempt to photograph the ribbon as it "really is", I took another shot showing off its beautiful colours and patterns. I like this photograph better than the one I posted the other day. A friend, on seeing the image on my screen, said, "Mmm, Bridget Riley".

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/40 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

Pink and black

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Pink always seems to me to be the right colour for carnations (Dianthus) because their colloquial name is "pinks". These flowers come in a range of colours yet pink, to my eye, is just the right colour to go with the blue-tinged green of the stalks, thin leaves and buds.

I think I've said elsewhere in this blog that pink is a colour that I never especially liked but, as I've aged, it has grown on me. It's a colour that cries out to be paired with another colour. I like to see it with turquoise or grey though I'm not fond of the popular pairing with red or purple. When I came to take this photograph of some pink carnations in a vase in our hall I opted for a black background. Pink and black are often put together quite successfully. In this instance it allows the relatively muted colour to display an intensity that it loses when other colours are paired with it, and makes the most of the outline of the blooms. The trouble is that that pink and black have a particular association in my mind, one that I can't shift. Such things are very powerful and can prevent one seeing something for what it is. For example, I can't see the colour mint green alongside brown without thinking of a dessert (pudding) that we had in primary school - chocolate sponge with mint flavoured (and coloured) sauce.

So what association pops into my head when I see pink and black. Nothing less than Bassett's Liquorice Allsorts, a sweet of my childhood, still available today, though one I haven't tasted for decades!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

Lincolnshire barns

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I recently put variations around the words "Lincolnshire barns" into the Google search box and was disappointed to be swamped with results concerning the hire of converted barns for holidays: it has always seemed to me one of life's mysteries why people want to holiday in a converted barn. In fact, I was looking for information about the different designs that I see as I travel about. Growing up in the Yorkshire Dales I became familiar with that region's variations in barn design and I was keen to increase my knowledge of Lincolnshire's barns.

I didn't find anything of interest - perhaps the subject isn't very widely studied or reported - but I did come across a few companies advertising new barns. These are big portal structures based on steel frames with uninterrupted space below the large, spreading roof. Coated steel, brick, concrete block and timber seem to be the favoured materials for walls. Most of the old barns in Lincolnshire, those dating from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, are constructed of brick. Probably the most interesting are found on the "model" farms of the nineteenth century; buildings with well-made brick arches, steel columns, sometimes the owner's coat of arms, all topped with locally made pantiles. I've seen a few of these badly converted into holiday accommodation, though many have escaped that fate due to being Listed for their historical and architectural interest.

However it was the barns of the twentieth century that I was particularly wanting information about: barns such as the big one in today's photograph. It is characteristic of the middle of that century with its asbestos roof, brick side walls, corrugated steel gable wall and its wooden sliding doors. A feature often seen in this part of the world is also present in the barn, namely the gabled "turret" that projects upwards from the main roof. This appears to have a ventilation function though that's just my guess. Until I find the source of information about Lincolnshire barns that I sought but couldn't find it remains only a working hypothesis.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Scary or distracting?

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Wood pigeons are a problem for farmers in the area where I live. In the absence of natural predators in the numbers that there once were they have multiplied tremendously. Accurate figures are difficult to come by. The RSPB estimates 2,570,000-3,160,000 territories (i.e. breeding pairs). These figures don't count the additional birds that come to Britain from continental Europe during the winter. I sometimes see flocks of a thousand or so birds on fields of sprouts. When these are mature plants they do little damage, eating only the new, leafy tops. However, on newly or recently planted fields they can be extremely destructive. Consequently the farmers fight back with a battery of bird scarers. Spinning metal windmills, scarecrows of varying levels of inventiveness, rotating globes with eyes, flags with one side black and the other white, kites in the shape of birds of prey, inflatable people that rise from the ground accompanied by flashing lights and a siren, and gas-powered "guns" that sound like shotguns are just some of the devices used to keep the wood pigeons off the crops.

A piece of research that I read last year concluded that most of these have an effect for a short period until the birds get used to them, then they might as well not be there. The gas guns are the most effective but the least liked by the people who live nearby. A while ago someone bought us a bird scaring device for our vegetable garden. It is a roll of what is described as "repeller ribbon": 30 metres of 5cm wide silver, metallic, iridescent, holographic ribbon designed to flash and flicker in the breeze when hung from trees, sticks or string. It looks like the sort of thing that might have been manufactured for another purpose - party decoration, for example - that some enterprising person thought could be used in a different way. We've just put some over an area that we have sown with grass seed. Does it work? I suspect not, but it isn't doing any harm.

Looking at it the other day as it thrashed about in the wind, glittering in its rainbow-like way, it occurred to me that there might be a macro photograph in it. So I cut a few short lengths, laid them together irregularly in a patch of sunlight and moved my camera until I found a composition and colours that I liked. As I was taking my shots I reflected that perhaps the way it is designed to work is by distracting the birds, encouraging them to gaze on the beauty of the multi-coloured triangles, flickers and flashes, thus causing them to forget all about eating the seeds and plants. Distraction rather than scaring -  a different way of coming at the problem! Or perhaps not.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

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

Messerschmitt KR200

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When you visit a national museum - say the British Museum, the National Railway Museum or the National Maritime Museum - you know what you're going to see: exhibits of national and often world significance, artefacts and objects that you recognise from books and film, gob-smacking, awe-inspiring, magnificence. Such an experience is often memorable.

When you go to a small, local museum, the sort that has been lovingly assembled by an enthusiast, you expect less. And yet sometimes, as Mies van der Rohe said, "less is more". Sometimes the care, concern, and attention that has gone into presenting the collection shines through and leaves a lasting impression. I recently went to such a museum in Lincolnshire, one not too distant from me, the Bubble Car Museum at Langrick near Boston.

I'm not a car enthusiast, but as regular visitors to this blog may have gathered, I am interested in design. This museum appealed to me because it was illuminating to compare the ways designers approached the task of making and selling inexpensive motorised vehicles. In particular I was fascinated by how some tried to hide the fact that these could be better described as enhanced motor cycles than proper cars, and how others cared little about revealing their lineage. Micro cars, a few mopeds and bicycles and some displays of household goods from the 1950s and 1960s, the era of the bubble car, accompanied the main exhibits. The model that caught my eye was the Messerschmitt KR200, a vehicle manufactured between 1955 and 1964. This silver three-wheeler looked like a combination of a small WW2 fighter aircraft, a kitchen implement and the sort of personal spacecraft that Dan Dare might have flown. The bug-eyed fairings, the glazed "cockpit", the piped, red upholstery and the attention to detail were very appealing. In these days of rising fuel prices, with manufacturers trying to eke every last mile per gallon out of cars, it's surprising that such vehicles, in updated form, haven't made a re-appearance on our roads.

photographs and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: iAuto+
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30
ISO: 250
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Skidby windmill and goggi geeha!

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Ever since I first lived on the eastern side of our island I've had an interest in windmills. These buildings (or are they machines?) are distinctive, picturesque, fascinating in their technology and intricacies, and often quite beautiful. The first windmill that I had any sort of familiarity with was the one at Skidby in East Yorkshire. When I lived in that part of the world I often walked or cycled in the vicinity of the distinctive four-sailer on its hill-top site. Its black tower and white ogee cap and sails were a useful landmark as we made our way round the lanes and field paths of the Yorkshire Wolds near Hull.

I've been back to Skidby windmill since we left that part of the country, and I posted a photograph of it in 2006. We visited it again a while ago and had a look round the small museum-cum-visitor centre that has been established in the surrounding buildings and the lower floor of the mill. Unfortunately, on the day we called in we were unable to climb to the other floors. However, that didn't matter because only a few days earlier we'd been up and down the ladders of Sibsey Trader Mill (also a windmill) near Boston. We'd gone there so that my grand-daughter could see the home of "Baby Jake". When my children were small I knew about most of the TV programmes they watched, the characters, the story lines, etc. But now, at my great age, I am ignorant of such things so I had to be enlightened about this epic of toddlers' TV. I won't bore you with the details - this link summarises the show and this one will tell you much more than you will ever want to know. Suffice to say that a modified version of the windmill at Sibsey serves as the home of the baby, his brothers, sisters and his parents, and so is an obvious place of pilgrimage if you are a fan of "Baby Jake" and almost two years old.

This six-sailer is a fine example of the tower mill. It's a relatively late example too, being built in 1877. It gets its name from the Trader (or west Fen) Drain that it overlooks. It worked by wind until 1953 when it was abandoned. The structure was saved in 1970 and restored in 1981. It is now in the care of English Heritage. I took a few photographs on my recent visit though none so good as this one that I posted in 2011.

Goggi geeha to one and all!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Over-exposure, memory and cyclamen

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I use a computer diary to keep track of what I'm doing and when. I also use Windows' built in "sticky notes" that mimic "post-it" notes for lists and "to do" items. By and large these two aids supplemented by my wife's calendar and diary mean that we have most things covered. That's not to say that events and activities don't, very occasionally, get missed: we are only human!

What I'm not good at - actually, I'm hopeless at - is keeping track of photographic approaches that I mean to use more. Things such as motion blur, my "lines in the landscape" project (see recent post), photographing from very low viewpoints, over-exposing appropriate subjects, and much else. I really need to establish a way to make sure I shoot in these ways at least once a week. What happens at the moment is that, out of nowhere in particular, a little light bulb occasionally comes on in my head and I think - "try this one with some positive EV".

That happened recently when I was photographing the cyclamen that we grow in our garden room and in the front porch. I've tried a few approaches to photographing the plants and I've been reasonably happy with my shots. However, I haven't yet produced the "Wow" shot that I think must be possible with these very showy blooms. But, looking through the viewfinder at some pink specimens of the plant the lightbulb glowed once more saying "try an overexposed shot", so I dialled in +1.0 EV. I liked it! When I reviewed the shots on the computer I increased the effect a little more. The combination of over-exposure and the macro lens wide open at f2.8 has produced a "dreamy" look that appeals to me. It's not my usual style, and it isn't the elusive "Wow" shot, but I like the water-colour, wet look of it and it's something I'll try again.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  +1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Values, land and the future

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What price can be put on a piece of farmland? All land has a market value which equates with as much as someone is prepared to pay. But market value is only one measure of value: agricultural land has values that exceed that narrow measure.

Today's photograph shows a field of pasture on the Lincolnshire Fens. When I took my photograph it was looking a bit the worse for wear after a wet winter and a cold spring. But the sheep and their lambs were finding sustenance in the grass. Farther out in the field lapwings were feeding and occasionally flinging themselves through the air in their courtship flight. A buzzard was surveying the scene from one of the hedgerow trees, and through the bushes were flitting a family group of long-tailed tits. Barn owls frequently fly along the drainage ditches that border the field hoping to surprise an unsuspecting mouse or shrew, and the distinctive song of the yellowhammer can often be heard competing with that of its near relative, the reed bunting. Pasture fields are not common in the Fens where vegetable production prevails, so the value to wildlife of this piece of land is locally immense.

As it happens this land (and three nearby sites) have been shortlisted for a 49 acre substation that is to service the giant Triton Knoll wind farm that is being planned for the North Sea off the east coast. If you thought offshore turbines preferable because they didn't spoil the countryside then think again. The company that needs the substation concludes that this site and the three others it has short-listed can be built with the least environmental and socio-economic cost. The land here is categorised as Grade 2. The other sites are either Grade 1 or Grade 2. In 2011the Government published the Natural Environment White Paper "The Natural Choice: securing the value of nature" which, amongst many other things, sought to halt the decline in natural habitats, promote natural diversity and "protect our best and most versatile agricultural land" (a phrase used to describe land classified as Grade 1, Grade 2 or Grade 3a. Clearly concreting over fields such as this is completely contrary to those stated aims.

Our world of markets, money, profit and growth needs to factor into its calculations the idea of "natural capital": the land that as well as providing food, a commodity that is going to be ever more costly and in shorter supply in the future, also provides habitats for the wildlife without which our world is a dull, impoverished and arid place. The value of natural capital is enormous, eclipsing many of the more routine costs and values that are involved in everyday calculations. A proper valuation of the area of land in this photograph would result in a rethink about its suitability as a place build on.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.3mm (52mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On  

Lines in the landscape revisited

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It crossed my mind recently that it's been a while since I added a photograph to my "lines in the landscape" collection. I started this series of images a few years ago on the back of a growing fascination with the tracks that agricultural vehicles leave behind them when they work the Lincolnshire land. One of the minimalist shots I blogged used that particular post title. Each year I've added one or two more shots involving barley, wheat and wires, wobbly lines, Nottinghamshire lines, water-filled lines and many other variations on the theme. Moreover, when I was looking through some of my older photographs I discovered that my interest in these lines pre-dates my move to the very agricultural county where I now live.

It was with all this in mind, as well as the fact that I haven't taken such a shot this year, that I kept an eye out for lines as I drove between Louth and Horncastle the other day. Driving over the undulating road that traverses the Lincolnshire Wolds I went round a sweeping corner and was presented with the fine specimens in today's photograph. The thin soil overlaying the chalk beneath made a pale hillside against which the parallel tracks left by the tractor stood out as bold, dark, slightly serpentine lines. The random details of the blue sky and fragmentary clouds made a good foil for the ordered land below, so I drew over to the side of the road and took a few shots. What I didn't notice with my naked eye, or through the viewfinder at the time, were the slender rods, each with a thin, coloured ribbon that mark the centre of the spaces between the lines. Look carefully and you'll see them with their shadows. I don't know their precise purpose but I intend to find it out.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Google Glass or Guardian Goggles?

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As of yesterday Google Glass has a challenger in the augmented reality, immersive technology, wearable video recording market. The announcement of Guardian Goggles means that the technology giant will face stiff competition from a home-grown alternative. Reading the specifications of the new product I'm especially taken by the "optional built-in anti-bigotry technology" that prevents Guardian newspaper readers being exposed to right-wing columns written by the likes of Melanie Phillips or Richard Littlejohn, "as soon as the user attempts to look at them". Particularly innovatory is the ability to have your blurted out loud, incredulous response to a Guardian article added to the newspaper's "Comment is Free" section within 30 seconds. The observation by Paul McMullan, Professor of Thinkovation, that it's the biggest innovation in news technology "since newspapers opened 'virtual bureaus' in Second Life in 2006, transforming journalism forever" is very perceptive. At least I suppose it is. The trouble is I haven't a clue what he's talking about.

What I want to know is can these Goggles or even the competitor Google Glass expunge cars from the viewer's eyesight and, by a wifi connection, from the viewer's camera? If so, despite the one or two slight difficulties this might introduce into a stroll about town, I'll have a pair. Maybe the same technology could be adapted to transform a Georgian terrace such as this one on London Road in Spalding, Lincolnshire, by removing the bay windows that were added during the Victorian era as well as ridding it of the multiple varieties of window glazing bars, thus allowing us to see it as the architect intended. But somehow I feel such a development will be very near the end of any list of apps that are developed. At the top, undoubtedly, will be one that gives spoken instructions on how to find the nearest hospital that has a proven track record in removing glass from eyeballs.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On