Vertiginous View

This is another frame from the set I took at York Minster, England, in November, 2011, on my fourth UK trip (I mistakenly quoted it as my third in a previous post). This was once the tallest building in Europe, some 800 years ago. Everything I said before applies, but this frame, with the skew-off in framing, creates a more vertiginous aspect. The sun came out—that’s the big thing, because so many of my UK trip photos are dominated by grey skies and racing clouds, which, though spectacular in their own right, can get a bit monotonous. Here is proof that blue skies do occur in the British Isles—just now and then! Fuji S5600. Image by Mike.

The Timeless Gothic

 

Here is an uncomplicated picture by any standards, made special by its subject matter, This soaring Gothic architecture is York Minster, which I photographed in late 2011, during my fourth UK trip. The weather was being kind on that visit, as opposed to another trip to York when it was pouring down. Vanishing point symmetry is always visually appealing, and the built environment aspect is special as it carries a context of Medieval times. No enhancement at all was done, this is just as she came off the camera. Fuji S5600. Image by Mike.

I’ve been particularly busy/distracted in the last few weeks and had not noticed the time going by, so I’ll put up three pics in quick succession.

The Goddess and the Australian Sky

This is the goddess Guan Yin, the 18-metre statue at the Nan Hai Pu Tuo Buddhist Temple at Sellicks Hill, overlooking the Gulf St Vincent. It’s been a landmark for many years (begUn 2011), and construction of the complex is continuing. This frame was taken on April 7^th, 2018, during an expedition down to Victor Harbor and back via Mt Alma, and the weather could not have been more perfect. This shot was not enhanced at all, this is just as it came from the camera. Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike. Mm

Blue and Gold—A Whitby Twilight

 

This is a longer view toward the Gothic church in Skinner Street, Whitby (I posted a close up almost exactly a year ago, “Cold Stone, Warm Light,” on July 20^th, 2023) which I captured around November 6^th, 2010, during an afternoon and early evening stroll through the quaint seaside town on the Yorkshire coast. The sun never rises very high at that time of year, so time of day is often difficult to pick from a photograph. This was probably not much after 4 in the afternoon, but the streets are filled with shadow, very blue against the golden light catching the upper parts of the church. It’s a magical place and a magical time of year, just after Guy Fawkes’ Night, when autumn slides quickly into winter. I remember having a drink at The Granby Freehouse, at right of the picture, still a very traditional pub at that time—I’m not sure if it has succumbed to development and updating in the 14 hears since. I set a scene in my first vampire story right there in that street (appearing soon in an anthology with Hiraeth Books!) Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

950 Years of History

This is Durham Cathedral, one of the oldest in England, whose origins date back to the early years of the Norman conquest. I grabbed this and several other frames through the window of a train on Tuesday, November 16^th, 2010, having departed Sunderland at 10.30 on my way to London for my return flight to Australia. The train passed through Durham’s elevated railway station, thus the views over the city and across to the bluff above the river bend where the Cathedral and castle were built. The morning, though quite clear, was hazy, and the train window adds to the effect. In this frame I managed to not pick up my own reflection, which is always a hazard—I have memories of pressing the camera to the glass to avoid reflections in many instances. I would have loved to spend some time in Durham, exploring this amazing place and its history, but that was set aside for a future trip—which unfortunately hasn’t happened yet. This picture marks the beginning of the second year since I resurrected this blog (April 9^th, 2023).Very minor enhancements were done—there’s not much more to pull out of a frame as soft as this. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

 

Echoes of Long Ago

The ruins of Whitby Abbey are among my earliest memories. I would have first visited in the mid-1960s, and remembered them well when we came to Australia in 1971. I have had the chance to visit again on a couple of my UK trips—now, alas, also many years ago. I took this shot on Saturday November 6^th, 2010, the day after arriving in Whitby from London. This was designated a rest day, so I was not catching a train anywhere else, just wandering around that quaint town by the North Sea. I visited the abbey and did a lengthy photo shoot in the afternoon light. I captured many studies of the stonework, long eroded by the salt wind—the abbey stands on the east headland—and one can lament the destruction of these great Medieval buildings. How amazing it would be to see this place in perfect condition, a relic of most ancient times. This pic was taken in good light, and required only the most minor adjustment—contrast and colour. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

Stone of the Ages

Click image to view at 1000 pixels wide

This shot was taken inside Salisbury Cathedral in December, 2006. This is a place of living history and one is very much aware of the passing centuries, of the millions of pairs of feet which have walked these halls before. I had mixed success with this shoot as the lighting levels were essentially low but the building so huge that flash didn't have a hope of reaching. I took my best shots with the camera held immobile against an upright to let the long exposures do their thing. I have some shots with people visibly moving, illumination was that low. This was an attractive composition in which the late afternoon sun could register along with the artificial lights, outline the 12th century stonework to perfection. Sharpened only. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

Storm Over an Old Church

One of my favourite lighting situations is found usually in the later afternoon when a heavy weather front is moving through, and the low sun can strike under the clouds. This often creates a deeply stormy background sky framing a fully sunlit foreground, an ephemeral situation which a photographer can preserve for posterity. This is the old church (pre-1850) at St. Marys, south of Adelaide, photographed in August, 2007, on a rather raw afternoon. Besides the lighting conditions, the composition not only exploits the height of the bell tower, it frames the ancient Saxon architectural style against Australian gumtrees, a delightful juxtaposition. Sharpened, contrast- and colour-balanced. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

Caedmon's Cross

This beautiful Celtic cross with deeply-incised graphical detail on all faces of the shaft, stands in graveyard of St Mary's Church, on the East Cliff of Whitby, Yorkshire, UK. It commemorates Caedmon, the great bard of the Dark Ages, remembered for the beauty of the spoken word as an artform. A trail up the cliffs to the site of the old abbey on the east side of the River Esk is known as "Caedmon's Trod," a 'trod' being a local term for a path (e.g., the 'Sailor's Trod' ran across the moors between port towns on the coast). This simple portrait-format shot was taken in November, 2007, on a cold and breezy afternoon, looking north-west along the Yorkshire coast, and the view awakens thoughts of this place before modern development, when such stone carving was the epitome of its artform. Sharpened, colour-enhanced and contrast-adjusted. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

Ruins on the Roadside

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Old countries have history you can touch... Here is a medieval building, the architecture is very gothic, very ecclesiastical, and this long-ruined wall of a gutted hall rises against the sky of a winter's afternoon in York, December 2006. Part of the city's suite of surviving ancient structures, this building stands beside a busy modern road, next to the Yorkshire Museum and Gardens, and truly reminds one of the centuries that have gone before, as surely as the invisible but no less real presence of Roman antiquities in this same area. The photograph was a simple framing job, including just the right telephoto factor to compose the stonework with the golden opportunity of catching the moon in the picture. It was mildly enhanced, the watery sky of winter was colour-saturated slightly, and it was sharpened 5%. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

The Tower and the Trees

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There was something irresistible about this vision of a man-made structure groping skyward through the primal forest. Not so much that exact dichotomy -- a microwave tower rising over palm trees would have fitted that description well enough -- but it's combination with elements that speak to our social memory... A gothic-architecture tower that looks like some elaborate church steeple (though I never found out what the tower actually is), rising out of a deciduous wood at the beginning of winter: now that harks to legend. I took this shot at maximum optical telephoto across a valley, from a steep street in Sheffield, UK, looking directly over the railway station and up the far side of the valley to this forest, where this tableau echoes the past in contrast to modern Sheffield on the near side. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic; November 2007. Image by Mike.

Scoping the Ruins

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The Fuji FinePix S5600 has a dual zoom function, an optical zoom plus a digital zoom that creates a second range at the penalty of gradually degrading image quality (it pixelises). The zooms are pretty powerful, 12x in each range, so finding a subject far enough away to really do justice to the available power can be a bear. This was a zoom test when the subject matter appeared -- it was late November 2006 and I was standing in the forecourt of Pannet Park Museum, Whitby, North Yorkshire on an overcast, soft evening (my batteries were about to give out in a few more frames, another nuisance!) I scoped in on the ruined Abbey on the East Cliff, right across the harbour and valley of the River Esk, the distance would have to be a straight line of 1000 yards or more. This was maximum optical zoom, retaining full resolution. The image has been cropped to drop out a pesky flagpole and an exra rooftop, and sharpened a little, but otherwise this was very much how it looked through the lens. Exposure was fully automatic. Image by Mike.