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I'm an architectural photographer. I travel around Britain recording and interacting with special places that have a spirit about them. I work from my camper van called Woody and I share my experiences via this digest.
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Flint and brick wall, Thetford, Norfolk.
"Finely knapped or shaped and dressed flints have been used since the Middle Ages principally for church building...Rough flints were thought adequate for farms and cottages...the larger stones were largely halved and quartered. Thus the black hearts of the flints were exposed and it is these which impart that jet sparkle..."
Olive Cook: English Cottages and Farmhouses.
Northern Lights.
I’ve been bound to this patch of earth, in one form or another, for almost a thousand years. Since then, I’ve layered and crustated with materials from these parts. They define me like the rings of a tree.
For most of that time, I’ve had a single purpose. Alongside the rise and fall of the Thames, I’ve convened the ebb and flow of people from west to east.
Before things silted, they tickled my foundations when their barges scraped the wharf. The barges brought the timbers for my tower - a beacon of their faith.
And then they ripped out my fripperies and whitewashed my walls until, in more recent times, they tried to take me down. Somehow, I hung on, and from that point onwards, there was a twist in my DNA. They moved from east-west to north-south; coming through the north door and leaving through the south.
"And then they ripped out my fripperies and whitewashed my walls until, in most recent times, they tried to take me down."
I sense their flow at first-light every morning, when they arrive with their animals. I hear the same words over and over again: Dolly, Bonny and Patch. From monastic chanting to pedigree panting. They pause, amidst the coming storm, and my oaken bones creak with delight in the knowledge that I still give respite.
One thing they all have in common is a need to make their mark.
I am a totem to them. Without me they feel rudderless. They have imprinted me with their hopes and fears, their gains and losses, their happiness and sorrow.
And now, out of respect for my age, they make their mark with pen and paper.
Through their marks they find succour and correspondence with the natural world around them.
Their marks stretch out upon my surface like a ticker-tape through time.
I am a Time Machine.
Without me there’d be no gasp or remark, as my leaning tower rises from the mists on the Thames. Without me there would be no perspective. Without me, no-one would know these parts or know themselves.
I came about for a single purpose, but now, I am many things to many people: all faiths and none.
I still have my secrets, like the Virgo Virginium on the timbers, and the bottled hair in my walls.
But, my biggest secret, I call my Northern Lights.
On the sharpest of dawns, my corsetry of flint - like tiny, time-burnished mirrors - echoes the gentle lapping of the Thames, and my walls shift and shimmer with joy.
Photographing St. Mary, Magdalene's, Boveney.
Members can see a beautiful aerial VR of St. Mary Magdalene, Boveney including extensive views of the River Thames with Windsor silhouetted to the east. (Viewable on any device)
Andy Marshall
and here's a Members' Only VR inside the oaken structure, beneath the tower at St. Mary, Magdalene, Boveney:
Andy Marshall
Boveney and Windsor
I start early at Boveney. Early enough to capture its 'Northern Lights'. I work through the day until the sun is too glaring. I make a plan - to walk along the Thames path to Windsor - as many have done before me.
Pure Scroll (no words) - A walk along the Thames Path and the buildings of Windsor
Getting out around St. Mary Magdalene, Boveney
Walk
Cycling
Boveney Eggs
What a wonderful park-up! Very close to the church and they sell fresh free-range eggs nearby.
Andy Marshall
An Evening with Steve Tomlin at Broadwell, Oxfordshire - 11th Nov 2023
Come and meet Woody and listen to historian Steve Tomlin talk about the magnificent church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Broadwell. The church was the first Member Powered Photography shoot.
More info here:
Andy Marshall
This time last year:
"I have a visual in my mind: a soul house is being made by Ancient Egyptian fingers, caked in clay, pinching out a stairway, thumbing in a colonnade, pricking out a window. The loved one is within the cross-hairs of the maker’s mind, but the grieving has been deferred in order to honour the process, to create an object that will hold for perpetuity the dead in suspended animation."
Andy Marshall
Andy Marshall
Andy Marshall
Northamptonshire
Andy Marshall
Virtual Reality
Andy Marshall
"And then they ripped out my fripperies and whitewashed my walls until, in most recent times, they tried to take me down."
St. Mary Magdalene's, Boveney was saved by the Friends of Friendless Churches.
If you can give them your support - it will help save other places that have such impact on our lives:
Can you help me achieve my goal by Christmas?
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Photographs and words by Andy Marshall (unless otherwise stated). Most photographs are taken with Iphone 14 Pro and DJI Mini 3 Pro.
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