Friday, 17 October 2014
Many seaside towns have an agreeably louche mix of new, renovated, repurposed, and time-worn buildings. Proximity to the sea causes the changeable winds of economics, and the irregular tides of fashion to leave behind a different sort of architectural legacy to that found in more buttoned-up, landlocked towns. Even so, Brighton is somewhat special in this regard, with buildings ranging from squalid multiple-occupancy houses (it seems the Student Experience has not changed much in the last 40 years, except that it now costs £95 a week), through the bijou terraces in the famous "laines", all the way up to grand Georgian and Victorian villas. Culminating, of course, in the grandiloquently ill-advised Royal Pavilion.
This crumbling wall, surprisingly, is not the basement area of a student squat but is the Royal Pavilion, as seen from an approach not customarily used by the sight-seeing public:
I'm not sure what the opposite of a "whited sepulchre" is, but that would be it. But here is the full-on gleaming spectacle, a Regency fever-dream of India, as mediated by a nearby and rather more mundane modern facade:
Hmm, if the right angles in these images seem a bit tortured to you, they do to me, too, despite the corrective work I've done. I'm beginning to wonder whether my Fuji 18-55 lens is optically flawed, or whether perhaps Photo Ninja is failing to correct for barrel and pincushion distortion when interpreting the RAW files from the X-E1. Or maybe Brighton is just too characterful for anything as, um, straight as a right angle.
Perhaps just one more pinnacle, Your Majesty?