Bronze dude

This guy stands in front of the entrance to the Old Bodleian Library in Oxford and a damn fine cut of a man he is, too:

Statue of the Earl of Pembroke.  He was Lord Chamberlain and Steward of the Royal Household during the reigns of James I and Charles I.  I'm guessing he had a tough time towards the end of that particular job, although he relinquished the role in 1625, which in hindsight was a smart move. HP5+ in HC-110, on Ilford MG Classic fibre paper.

I'm thinking of commissioning something similar for myself.  Just haven't decided where I should put it. Perhaps at the entrance to Portstewart Strand.  Or maybe along the Prom, where I'm headed in a minute with an old Hasselblad snapper-upper. We'll see.

William Herbert, the 3rd Earl of Pembroke, was Chancellor of the University from 1617 until his death in 1630 (age 50).  The inscription over the door is unrelated, by the way.  It reads (more or less) "Thomas Bodley placed this library here for you, Oxford Academics, and for the commonwealth of educated men: May it turn out happily".  

The Sacred Heart

The last of the religious Still Life shots for the moment.   According to my wife, a lot of families would have had The Sacred Heart hanging on a wall - there's space at the bottom for the children's names to be added as they came along.  And in Roman Catholic Ireland, they came along not in ones or twos - my wife's neighbours, when she was young, had eleven children.  Mostly boys, too.  I doubt there was much left on the table after mealtimes in that house.  

OM1/50mm Zuiko.  HP5 on Foma 313 paper, toned in home-brew thiourea.  Yes...well spotted, those damn goblets again.  They're really annoying me now.

I'm off now to mount some prints, as I stupidly volunteered to show some at tonight's Club Meeting.  What was I thinking...

Westgate, after dark

I'm not sure when it opened but the new Westgate Shopping Mall is the place to be avoided if like me (a) you don't quite get this obsession with shopping and (b) you don't like crowds.   Fortunately after 6pm in early March the crowds depart and you get the place more or less to yourself:

Westgate Shopping Mall, after dark.  OM4ti/24mm Zuiko, balanced against the railings for support as we were down to something like 1/4s.  HP5+/HC-110 on Ilford MG Classic.

The reason we was there at that time was our stomachs, which were informing us it was time to eat (again).  On the top floor of the Westgate there's a dozen or so eateries - everything from fancy breakfast establishments to fishy sushi type places.  Amazingly, they all seem to be busy 24/7 - even early evening, midweek in March.  I thought we could just swan up and sit down but most places had at least a 30-minute wait.  On a pleasant summer evening this place would be heaving, I reckon - but obviously everyone was inside at this time of year, so maybe that accounted for the congestion:

Top floor eateries. Another risky hand-held shot in low light - not sure I'd want to print this too big but it's sharp enough at 10"x8".

The first place we tried was a bar type place with a separate eating section.  We sat ourselves at the bar area to wait for our table and lasted all of about a minute before we decided to bail and try somewhere else.  The reason being the music, which was being pumped out at what must have been damn close to safety levels.  I looked around and no-one was capable of holding a proper conversation - even when leaned in, shouting was required.  Madness.  I can't imagine what it must be like working there for a few hours.  Not healthy, that's for sure.  Missy went up to the desk to inform them we wouldn't be needing a table after all and to be fair, the duty manager was very good - he apologised, suggested things might be better at lunchtime and if we phoned ahead he would reserve us a table in a quiet spot.   I got the impression that the rationale for the music was being dictated from above and he had very little say in the matter, so full marks for trying.     

What's down there then love?

This was one of those shots which I thought might turn out to be a bit of fun, because of the folk in it.  A couple of seconds later they spotted me and waved an apology for getting in the shot.  But it was too late - I'd got 'em:

The courtyard of Oxford's most famous pub.  OM4ti/24mm Zuiko. On HP5+ via HC-110 on Ilford MG Classic paper.

It's unlikely you'll ever find The Turf Tavern unless you know it's there, as the entrance is down a very narrow passage off New College Lane.  It would be easily missed, even with the sign at the entrance to the passageway which points you towards 'An education in intoxication'.  I wonder how many pints have been served there over the centuries.  I didn't go inside this time but it's really rather special - very low, beamed ceilings remind you (a) that you are in a very old public house and (b) to duck.  Atmosphere by the bucket-load, even if you are the only one in it.

This is the view from the street, looking towards Catte Street with the Sheldonian Theatre in the background.  The entrance to The Turf is not visible, but is on the right of this shot just before the bridge, which links two parts of Herford College.  

Hertford Bridge, on New College Lane - sometimes referred to as The Bridge of Sighs, due to it's resemblance to that other Bridge of Sighs in Venice.

St Michael at the North Gate

As you walk around the city of Oxford there are two small Norman towers that are hard to miss - Carfax Tower and this one, known as St Michael at the North Gate, which sits on the corner of Ship Street and Cornmarket.  (Why there is a Ship Street in Oxford is a tad perplexing, as Oxford is about as far from the sea as you can get in England.  According to Wikipedia, the original name was Dewy's Lane and the current name may be a corruption of Sheep, as there was a sheep market in the street in the 18th Century.  I saw no sheep last week, I should perhaps add). This tower is, apparently, Oxford's oldest building, dating to 1040.  I have to admire the town planners over the centuries that have let this little tower be - here in Coleraine the planners seem determined to strip away any sense of history we ever had.  About the only thing they do well, some might say.  

Anyway, here she is as was snapped up on a bright sunny spring day almost a thousand years after construction, using an almost-as-old Olympus OM4ti and 24mm Zuiko lens:

The Tower of St Michael at the North Gate, as it looked last Wednesday. On HP5+, in HC-110 printed on MG Classic gloss paper.

Trinity College

When all is said and done, Oxford is all about the Colleges, really.  There are 39 of them, apparently, so they are hard to miss as you dander about the place.  This is Trinity, or at least the bit you can see from the entrance on Broad Street.  Founded in 1555, so I read. That wasn't yesterday.

Entrance to Trinity College.  Ignore the fact that three British Prime Ministers studied at Trinity - the big story is that it was used in some of the Harry Potter films.  On HP5+, via the OM4ti and 24mm Zuiko lens.  HC-110 on Ilford MG Classic fibre paper. 

Even though the sign said 'Closed to Visitors' I stepped inside the hallowed ground.  I figured no-one was going to mind too much.  I'm not sure if this gentleman was part of the College or not but I figured he was fair game to be included in the shot, as he stood to attention and surveyed the grounds.   The immaculately manicured grounds, I should say - as all the Colleges would appear to have.  And why not, eh?  Anyway, after a couple of minutes I took my leave and headed out to Broad Street, dodged a few cyclists and crossed the road to the Bodleian Library.  It's not real, any of this, is it?  I think if you came up to Oxford from some inner-city comprehensive school there's a risk you'd spend three years with your head in the clouds marvelling at the architecture and trying to ignore the weight of history pressing on you.  How do you spring-board to greater things from here, I wonder, and not end up thinking that everything after your time here was, well, just a bit of a come-down?

The price of stockings

The price of stockings in 1956 was astronomical.  How do I know?  Well, I know because of my Uncle Dan, who at one stage in his life kept meticulous records of his living expenses (as well as diaries, where he detailed his day's activities).  Not that the stockings were for him, I should add - I suspect they were for his wife, Iris.  Anyway, I came across this book of his a while back which lists every expense, no matter how small,.  The pages you see here are from the ledger of January 1956, as is the diary:

1956, in 2022.  On FP4+ via the OM-1, 50mm lens.  On Foma 133 velvet fibre paper, thiourea toned.

So on the 9th January 1956, among other things, 2 shillings and 8 pence was spent on lunch, 15 shillings on theatre tickets and 17 shillings and 10 pence on stockings.  There were 20 shillings in the pound back then and a quick check on one of those inflation websites shows that the equivalent money to 17/10 in those days would be about £20.  I had to use Google but Mr Bezos' e-commerce company has a pair of silky black lace 15 denier stockings for sale at £3.99 (and if my wife is checking my web searches I hope she doesn't get the wrong idea).  It's hard to believe now but post-WWII rationing in the UK had only just ended 18 months earlier in 1954, so probably some things were still expensive and hard to get (I'm hazarding a guess that stockings were one of those things, since we have all heard stories about American GIs hitting on 'our local girls' with gifts of stockings during the war).  Coffee&biscuits, bread, cream and whiskey all feature regularly in my uncle's books, by the way - and grapefruit, for some reason.   Dan was Principal Lecturer at a teacher training college in Belfast and his wife a teacher, so they had good salaries coming in every month.  No children, so they only had themselves to feed and clothe. 

My Uncle's diaries are interesting in a 'nothing much happening' kind of way - more of a 'this is how we lived'.  On Wednesday Jan 1st, 1956 you might be able to read that as well as it being a frosty start and a raw, cold afternoon Dan was in two minds to go to a meeting of his local Probus Club.  His wife persuaded him to go (it was New Year's Day and she probably wanted him out of the house for a few hours) but when his mate Jack and him got to the hotel there were no staff on duty, no coffee and no central heating.  So it was back home for his coffee and to work on the Preceptory Accounts.  That would be the Royal Black Preceptory, a Protestant fraternity aligned with the Orange Order.  Dan liked his Clubs - he was also a big Freemason and more of that to come in a different post.

The French artefact is something I picked up years ago during a visit to a flea market in Northern France.  I liked the message and thought it might fit this scene. Unfortunately the glass front has come detached and I failed to notice it had slipped when taking the shot, so it looks a bit untidy.

If you're wondering why I'm a day late and a dollar short with this post it's 'cos yesterday my wife and I were travelling back from seeing our daughter in Oxford for a couple of days.  I completely forgot it was Thursday.  We had a lovely couple of days with her and the weather was very pleasant, with spring-like temperatures.  The same could not be said when we stepped off the plane in Belfast yesterday evening, when an icy blast of air hit reminded us that spring hasn't quite sprung yet here in Northern Ireland.

 

Sick Call Outfit

In my last post I showed the outside of the Sick Call, or Last Rites box that was handed down from my wife's great-grandmother.  Here's the more interesting view:

Late 19th Century Sick Call Box, with added artefacts (goblets, Rosary beads and card).  Originally there would have been a cork stopper in the glass bottle for Holy Water but this has been lost.  FP4+ via OM-1, 50mm lens.  HC-110 on Foma 133 velvet fibre paper, toned in home-brew thiourea from Tim Rudman's recipe (Rayco formula). 

The Sick Call Instructions printed on the card read as follows:

In case of serious illness call a Priest.

See that the hands and feet of the patient are clean for the Holy Oils.

Set a small table covered with a white cloth at the head of the bed. Open your Sick-call Outfit and place it upon the table.  Place with it a cup or glass of fresh water.

The candles should be lighted before the Priest arrives. If he is carrying the Blessed Sacrament, meet him at the door with a lighted candle. Precede him in silence to the sick room.

As he greets the patient, retire from the room that he may administer the Sacrament of Penance. When he calls, re-enter and kneel.

As my parents were Protestants (mother was Church of Ireland and father was Presbyterian) all this was new to me - although obviously I was aware of some of the shenanigans in that other branch of Christianity.  As a child, my mother's neighbour was Roman Catholic and she tells me that one Christmas she took her into the local Chapel to see the Crib.  My mother says the whole place was in darkness, apart from the many candles and she was scared (and perhaps scarred) by the whole experience.   Back then (80-plus years ago) I can imagine there was quite a difference in the two Churches.  Thanks to my wife - and my role as School Governor - I've had lots of opportunities to visit local Roman Catholic Chapels - for confirmations, weddings, funeral services and special School occasions.  Not only have I lived to tell the tale but it seems to me that the differences aren't as great as perhaps they once were.  Mind you, it's 40-plus years since I attended a Protestant Church Service so things might be very different now compared to how I remember them - which was mainly a very formal affair with lots of singing and lots of preaching.  Especially the latter. 

By the way, I toned the last print as well, and updated the page accordingly to show both untoned and toned prints.  You can see them here. 

Moving on (updated)

So, enough of those boring people shots and on to some exciting Still Life.  The last couple of weeks have not been very clement here in the North East Liberties of Coleraine so I set up some stuff indoors.  Previously I've used an old desk in the garage, with natural light coming in from a side window (which worked quite well) but it was too cold for that so I used the landing area upstairs in the house.  The light coming from a skylight window didn't look so good, I thought, so this was more of a few experiments on whether my ideas for arrangement were worthy (or not) of consideration.  I'll probably move out to the garage again when it warms up a bit in a month or two (hopefully!).

FP4+ via the OM-1 and 50mm lens.  HC-110 on Foma 133 velvet paper (phone snap).  The edges and the pages of the bible were burnt in after the main exposure.  

I doubt it will come as much of a shock to learn that Roman Catholics have much more interesting stuff to photograph than Presbyterians :)  The inscription inside the flyleaf of the bible shows that my father gave it as a present to his mother in 1947 but all the other artefacts are from my wife's family.  The box it probably the most interesting thing - it belonged to her mother's grandmother, so is probably late 19th Century.  It's a Sick Call box, or Last Rites box and contains a card with instructions as to how to prepare for the priest's final visit to the person who is moving on.  Along with that are candle holders and other small items including a cruet for Holy Water, a Crucifix and silver trays.  The card on top, the goblets and the rosary beads weren't part of it - I added those in to the scene.

The scene could be better lit and I'm not convinced that the two goblets add much - this may well be a case of 'less is more'.  I think the card on top of the box could do with being stronger, so a little burn-in there too might be appropriate. I like the bible being open but as it sits here it kind of leads the eye out of the scene so I'm not quite sure what to do about that.  Sometimes it helps just to leave the print lying around for a while so I guess I'll do that and see what gives.

Update: I spent Sunday morning toning the prints I made from this series, using home-brew thiourea toner from a recipe in Tim Rudman's Toning book (Rayco formula).  Here is the new version: