Little point in emulating the millions of tourist shots of Florence, so here are a few different angles on an entrancing city.














Words and photographs from North Hertfordshire
Little point in emulating the millions of tourist shots of Florence, so here are a few different angles on an entrancing city.














Two more medieval churches – St George’s at Edworth, and a longstanding favourite, St Mary Magdalene at Caldecote. Both are isolated and long bereft of parishioners, maintained by charitable bodies but open to visitors. Each is a minor jewel. Edworth is particularly fine with its remaining stained windows and carved pews while Caldecote’s charm is rustic.


The figure of St Edmund – Saxon king of East Anglia and original patron saint of England – and another saint at Edworth date from the 14th century. Each is surrounded by motifs of leaves and acorns of English oaks, rooting the subjects to the land.


The faces are astounding, particularly that of the saint on the right, so few lines conveying so much weight of character. Edmund’s crown also looks to be of oak leaves. I would like to think this is the artist tying him to England in an implied contrast to the post-Norman monarchy of the day.

High up in the triforium is a 15th century depiction of St James, again depicted with a face of simplicity and depth but all the more wonderful for being scarcely perceptible to the naked eye, this photograph having been taken with a modest zoom lens and enlarged on editing.


The ghosts of post-reformation glasswork at Edworth


Still at Edworth, finials on the 15th century pews depict a lion and a baboon, animals never seen by the craftsmen who carved them.

Most of Caldecote is from the 14th century although a church may have been on the site several centuries earlier.


The simplicity of the 15th century pews, which retain carpenters’ markings to guide their assembly, echoes the simplicity of the building, inside and out. They are worn and rubbed smooth by the hands of seven centuries.

The pedals of the Doherty organ at Caldecote. No longer functional, the organ may be the most exotic item in the church, Doherty’s being a Canadian organ maker of the 19th and early 20th centuries.

The underside of the organ loft at Caldecote, like that at Lower Gravenhurst (see previous post) is a candidate for a painting by Sean Scully.























I open with a single shot of the architecture of Samarkand. I may post again with more but for now I remain too awed by the ancient mosques and madrassas of that city and of Bukhara and Khiva to represent them. So, what follows is more a flavour of (part) of the country as I saw it.






















The Shredded Wheat factory at Welwyn Garden City was designed by architect Louis de Soissons in 1925. A walk around the site ahead of complete demolition yielded some shots of the the remains of an iconic building that ranks among the best examples of early 20th century industrial architecture. As it peels and crumbles it offers new ways of looking. With a flattened depth of field, the window panels and shattered panes, the distressed paintwork, and the broken screening can be viewed as abstract, accidental constructs. They are dynamic, changing with every blast of wind, act of vandalism, or water leak that precedes the wrecking ball. Stand back and look at the remaining buildings. Flatten the perspective. The design and the materials and construction techniques render the factory as collections of planes and panels, juxtaposed here, overlapping there.














Minsden Chapel 1

Minsden Chapel 2

Minsden Chapel 3

Tree 1

Tree 2

Tree 3

Iron 1

Iron 2

Iron 3

Perspective (Hexton)
The patch was cleared to put up the commercial greenhouses. Decades later, the greenhouses failed and spiralled into disrepair. The vegetation is reasserting its claim. For now, there is stasis with neither the manmade structure nor nature prevailing. At this moment – which may end with Spring growth – the measured angles and straight lines of the collapsing artifice are interwoven with an unruly growth decided by wind, rain and sun, sometimes complementing, sometimes clashing.

















Wimpole Hall is a National Trust property with a vast landscaped park. It has its folly castle and lake, a walled garden, and a stately home complete with a seemingly endless view along an avenue of trees.
In winter the park offers skeletal trees, some fractal, some colossal, and vistas over the surrounding countryside. But skirt around the house on a freezing day and is there something of the Gothic horror lurking?











In fact, it’s not a barn, rather an old waterworks building. It’s frequently photographed, and for good reason. There is little surrounding clutter in a field on high ground. The clapperboard construction gives tones and contrasts and definition heightened by its dereliction. I think these come out best in monochrome although its autumn colours are enchanting.













































It would be a pity not to celebrate this last burst of sun and light for the year with something vivid. So here’s one thing old, three things new, nothing borrowed and a bit of blue.













A new home page has been added. It’s called Works Road. See it here: https://walsworthblog.com/
There’s a new home page on Walsworthblog.com with dancers, ghosts and portraits from the gardens at Wrest Park, the stately home in Bedfordshire. See it here.