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Hasselblad 500c - Carl Zeiss Planar 80mm 1:2.8 - Fuji Provia 100F @ ASA-100
Unicolor Rapid E-6 Kit
Meter: Pentax Spotmeter V
Scanner: Epson V700
Editor: Adobe Photoshop CC (2015.5)
During the French Revolution the family Liedekerke-Beaufort left the Castle of Vêves to take up residence in a nearby farm. After the revolution gave the family in 1886 contract to the English architect Milner to design a castle as a summer residence next to his farm. Up to and including the second world war the Castle remained occupied by the family. Starting from the second world war the castle was used as a children's home by the SNCB and from about 1980 was used for outdoor activities for children. Since 1991, the Castle is left empty.
The Castle has had different tasks and is also known as Château Miranda or Home de Noisy. The latter was the name when it served as orphanage.
In 2009, the castle was used for shooting of the film "Anubis en de wraak van arghus".
The clocktower at Independence Hall. Philadelphia, PA.
Photographer: Captain Albert E. Theberge, NOAA Corps (ret.)
Clocktower Cafe is a neat little restaurant in Landour Bazaar in Mussoorie. It serves excellent pizzas and pastas - a rarity in India! It's totally decked out with retro posters and actually makes you feel like you are eating back at home - though I think Americans need a lesson in service from Indian waiters!
The Kimpton Clocktower Hotel is a historic hotel structure at the corner of Oxford Street and Whitworth Street in Manchester, England. The building was originally constructed in segments from 1891 to 1932 as the Refuge Assurance Building.
History
Refuge Assurance Company
The first phase of this Grade II* listed red brick and terracotta building was designed for the Refuge Assurance Company by Alfred Waterhouse and built 1891–1895.[2] The inside was of Burmantofts faience and glazed brick. The ground floor was one enormous open business hall.[3] It was extended, with a striking 217-foot (66 m) tower, along Oxford Street by his son Paul Waterhouse in 1910–1912.[2] It was further extended along Whitworth Street by Stanley Birkett in 1932.[3]
What is now the ballroom was previously the dining hall for employees, with males and females being required to sit separately. Around 2,000 staff were employed. Women had to reapply for jobs if they married,[4] and some areas of the building were for men only.[5] The ballroom in the basment was used as a dance hall for workers in their lunch hour.[6]
After occupying the building as offices for nearly a century, the Refuge Assurance Company moved to the grounds of Fulshaw Hall, Cheshire on Friday 6 November 1987. The Refuge Assurance company had discussed converting the building into a new home for the Hallé Orchestra with one of Manchester's cultural patrons Sir Bob Scott for over a year. The £3 million funding required for the project did not materialise and the Halle subsequently moved from the Free Trade Hall to the new Bridgewater Hall upon opening in 1996.[7] Local architecture critic John Parkinson-Bailey noted that "one of the most prestigious and expensive buildings in Manchester lay forlorn and empty except for a caretaker and the ghost on its staircase".[7]
Conversion to hotel
The massive structure was converted to a hotel by Richard Newman in 1996 at a cost of £7 million, and was named the Palace Hotel, owned and operated by the Principal Hotel Company.[8] Principal Hotels was sold to Nomura International Plc in 2001,[9] and they rebranded the hotel as Le Méridien Palace Manchester. When Le Méridien Hotels faced financial difficulties,[10] the hotel was bought back by a reconstituted Principal Hotels in 2004[11] and again renamed the Palace Hotel. When Principal Hotels decided to brand all their hotels with their corporate name, the hotel was renamed The Principal Manchester, in November 2016.[12] The current glass dome in the reception area was taken from a Scottish railway station during the conversion to a hotel.[4]
In May 2018, the hotel was sold to the InterContinental Hotels Group.[13] It was announced in February 2020[14] that the hotel would be renamed the Kimpton Clocktower Hotel in March; as part of InterContinental Hotels Group's Kimpton Hotels brand. However, the hotel was forced to close before the renaming, due to the COVID-19 pandemic.[15] It reopened under the Kimpton name on October 1, 2020.[16]
The hotel is purported to be haunted.[6] One of the staircases is said to be haunted by a grieving war widow who committed suicide by throwing herself down it, throwing herself from the top floor.[4] The staircase in question was only accessible to men at the time.[5] Room 261 is allegedly haunted, with reports of the sound of children playing at night.[17]
D&F clocktower, Denver...
______________
H.G. Wells: Do you still insist that this is all poppycock?
Amy Robbins: That's not exactly the word I had in mind...
--"Time After Time" (1979)
The machinery inside the clock is a recent replacement of the original workings and is quite a complicated affair described below.
The heart of the Clock is a complicated system of gear wheels
located within a large cruciform metal framework at the center
of the Tower. The true ‘engine’ of the entire timepiece, this can be
broadly divided into 4 distinct sections; along with these there is
the machinery for the astronomical clock face and the workings
of the clock barrels. Also known as ‘clock trains’, these 4 sections
are similar in appearance and basically comprise: a barrel around
which is wound a chain (formerly a rope) to which is attached the
motor weight (100 kgs); an intermediate wheel; a rotating fan that
serves as an aerodynamic brake to regulate the weight’s speed of
descent and thus the interval between clock strokes.
The fans are equipped with a ratchet that makes a very
recognisable sound; this is activated at the end of each series of
strokes and serves to disperse the accumulated kinetic energy
when the rotating mechanism comes to an abrupt halt.
The clock train transmits the impulses which enable the pendulum
to continue its isochronic oscillations. It also comes into play at
fixed intervals to trigger the other trains of wheels and pins.
By means of thin vertical rods, it activates the barrel machinery
every 5 minutes; as a result the minute barrel rotates through 30°
(1/12 of a turn). Every 60 minutes, the hour barrel does the same.
Upon each hour, the train mechanism for the Two Moors is
activated. Two minutes before the hour, the Moor on the right
strikes the bell; two minute after the hour, it is the turn of the
Moor on the left.
This is why the mechanism is described as a ‘re-striking’ one. With
the hammers they hold, each Moor strikes the bell on the top of
the tower a total of from one to twelve blows, depending upon the
hour. Finally, every 12 hours, the 132-stroke train is set in motion.
These 132 ‘meridian’ strokes occur at midday and midnight before
the Moors strike the bell. They are rung by 2 supplementary
hammers placed around the circumference of the bell; the number
of strokes corresponds to that of the strokes hit by the two Moors
in the previous 11 hours. The barrel mechanism also operates the
astronomical machinery via the Moors wheel, which goes through
a complete rotation every two hours, and a 22-tooth pinion. This
latter goes through 12 rotations a day, turning all 264 teeth (22×12)
on the large wheel, which turns the sun clock-hand through one
entire circuit per day.
Finally, via a return mechanism and a long axle under the clock
machinery, the Barrel Mechanism also operates the hour hand on
the clock face giving onto the Mercerie.
The whole thing is driven by means of 5 train mechanisms,
periodically recharged by the raising of the weights.
The pendulum and the anchor escapement regulate the perfect
release of energy, so that the mechanism works in a constant, even
manner. Still perfectly functional, the entire structure dates back
to 1753-57, when Bartolomeo Ferracina significantly modified the
original machinery built at the end of the 15th century by G. Carlo
Ranieri.
Very late in the day shooting from the belltower of the Daniels & Fisher Clocktower... which can be seen in the shadow in the middle of the shot...
_________________
J.J.: She was mostly in the shadows. She had great legs though. And the outfit she had on could fit in a martini glass..
--"CSI: NY" (CBS)
Once part of the Great Northern Railroad Depot, the Clocktower in Riverfront Park was built in 1902 and stands at an impressive 155 feet.
Handsworth Library Clocktower.
Seen from the no 74 bus on the Soho Road.
South & City College Birmingham and the former Handsworth Council House.
Grade II Listed Building
Public Library, Handsworth Council House and Job Preparation Unit
Listing Text
SOHO ROAD
1.
5104 Handsworth B21
Public Library,
Handsworth Council House
and Job Preparation Unit
SP 08 NW 6/43
II
2.
1878-9 by Alexander and Henman, as the Urban District Council Offices.
Red brick and terracotta with stone dressings; slate roof. Mostly 2 storeys
plus attic. To the left, the library part with a polygonal advanced bay
surmounted by an octagonal glazed and louvred lantern with miniscule gablets,
4 bays of windows and a broad gabled bay with a large first floor tripartite
window of 7 lights. The clock tower with entrance beneath a gable supporting
an oriel window, machicolations, parapet and glazed and timbered clock
stage has 2 bays of windows either side and, finally, on the right, there
is another gabled bay. The windows all with mullions and transoms. Some
pretty sculptural details.
Listing NGR: SP0479889438
This text is from the original listing, and may not necessarily reflect the current setting of the building.
George stared at the locket - the only thing he had left to connect him to his mother. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again. In the five years he had endured the factory, much had changed in the outside world. Steel skeletons of buildings rose into the air, like clawed hands reaching for the puffy clouds above. Motorized carts zoomed around the streets, making a terrible racket and belching smoke everywhere. While he had seen a few of these before he was taken, they were now almost the only vehicles in the city, the old horses and carriages all but forgotten. Only this place, an old clocktower near the old center of Imperial City, remained constant. A symbol of an older time, from when the city was nothing but a simple town on a foreign rock. George’s father had shown him this place as a boy, taking him up inside the tower by a way known only to a few. That was before the accident claimed his life.
If only the world could go back to those days. Now the floor was covered with dust- clearly no one had been up here in a long time. His father had been the last of the time wardens, and with him had passed much knowledge of the trade. Now everyone carried the small hand clocks known as pocket-watches, and no one had any need for the old clocktower. George sighed. He could still hear the other children’s voices. He had to figure out how to help them escape too. He couldn’t let them continue to live like that. He remembered how he had felt. Trapped, terrified, and hopeless.
George shivered at the memory of that first week.
He had been put to work shoveling coal for the first month, a menial job meant to break his spirit. He was constantly dirty, underfed, overworked, and belittled. The system that the Overseer, for that was what the man called himself, had created was meant to reduce the children to no more than mindless automans, known only by their numbers. They were not allowed to talk to one another, not allowed to keep anything of their own to remind them of home.
George, however, had something many of the others did not; George had hope. Hope and a locket. The day that the Overseer had stripped them of any personal belongings, he had hidden the locket from his mother in his mouth. Each day after that he repeated his name to himself, and remembered the faces of those he loved. He knew that someday, an opportunity would arise, and he would escape.
And eventually, that day did come. George was working at the assembly line pounding lumps of hot metal into small sheets when suddenly the line of rollers stopped moving. He could hear the Overseer in another part of the building, yelling at the poor child who had caused the problem. George took advantage of this, quickly molding one of the pieces into a lockpick and slipping it into his trousers. He burned his finger on the hot metal, but resisted the urge to cry out. The rollers started moving again soon after and the work resumed, children snapping out of the trance they had been in, returning to work.
That night, George made his escape, secretly slipping from his bed, if it could be called that, and tiptoeing over to the door. He desperately wanted to wake the others, and take them with him, but he knew deep down inside that many of them no longer had a mind of their own, and would only alert the Overseer. He snuck down the hallway with bated breath, passing a room resounding with loud snoring, which could only have been the Overseer. George paused. Here was the Overseer, sound asleep and at his mercy. He could end this; end the misery of the other children, end the fear of parents wondering if they would be the next to lose a child, end the grief of those who had lost children. Yet he hesitated. What if he failed and was killed, or even worse, what if he succeeded? He would have to live out the rest of his life knowing he was a murderer. Even if others would laud his actions, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.
He snuck onward, leaving the sleeping figure behind him. Reaching the door into the workroom, he reached for the knob and eased it open. It opened slowly, with a loud creak. George cringed at the noise and froze, yet no one came. He quietly slipped through and made his way to the large door at the end of the room. A door that he had not passed through in five years. The door that new children were brought through. A door that the Overseer disappeared through each day when retrieving supplies. The door to freedom.
He reached for the handle. Locked. He slipped the pick out of his pocket and gently coaxed the lock, extremely thankful for this skill that his father had taught him. He heard a click and tried the handle. It turned. He opened the door and was met with an ear splitting whistle. Opening the door had triggered some sort of alarm! George threw the door open the rest of the way and raced into what was beyond, the alarm ringing behind him.
He was met with a long hall, lined with doors. Oh no! He didn’t remember this in the slightest. But what he did remember was an old trick his father had taught him. If you ever get lost in an old building, put your head to the floor and listen and feel for a change in the air. The floor flagstones will have settled over time and you’ll be able to feel a slight change in the air coming from outside. George did this, growing desperate as he heard yells in other parts of the building. There! The third door on the left! His excitement mounting, he tried the handle. It was open! As he pulled it open he heard footsteps echoing behind him. Not even turning to look, he ran through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He then looked around. He was stuck in a small storeroom, but the room had an open window, with a slight breeze bringing in the scent of cinnamon from a nearby bakery.
George pushed a few boxes together and clambered up and out the window. He was free! For the first time in five years he could feel the outside air on his face. He could smell the scents of the city. He could feel the warm rays of the first sunlight on his face as the sun peeked over the horizon.
He was quickly brought back to reality, however, as he heard yells inside the building.
“He went out here!” they called.
Thomas took off, his legs strong from all the work he had done. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he raced down the street, no destination in mind except to escape the Overseer’s thugs. As he approached the center of the old city he caught sight of the old clock tower in the distance. He remembered all the times his father had brought him there and showed him projects he was working on. He knew that if he could make it there, he could lose the thugs. He took a left, heading for the tower with a new sense of purpose.
As he neared the tower, he could hear the thugs right behind him. His lack of nourishment was fighting his body, telling him to stop. He turned the last corner and there it was! He ducked through one of the arched openings at the base of the tower, and stumbled to the ground, exhausted. Through the arches he could see the thugs come around the corner, and skid to a stop, looking left and right, trying to find him. He could hear their voices drifting through the air.
“Start checking buildings,” the one who appeared to be the leader said.
George got to his feet. He couldn’t let them find him here. He headed for the back of the building, finding the service door unlocked. He entered the small closet, and locked the door behind him. He then began to climb, climb, climb. All the way to the top of the tower, to the place where massive gears and pieces of machinery kept the clock face running. They wouldn’t find him here he knew. Very few people knew about this place, and judging from the dust that coated everything, no one had been there in a very long time. He was safe, at least for now.
It had been a week since he escaped now, and he still didn’t know what to do. The home that his family once occupied was now gone, replaced by a shining steel building. All the places he remembered were completely different, if not gone entirely. But George still had something. Hope. For now he would serve as the new time warden, taking care of the old clocktower, but he would find a way to save those other children someday. And he would find his mother again.
—-
This was built for the Off the Beaten Path category of Wandering Skies.
To check out the other part of this story (The backstory of the Overseer) see this other build: www.flickr.com/photos/197227990@N07/53279791357/in/datepo...
Special thanks to PaulvilleMOCs for the design of the top gear.
Thanks for checking it out (and reading this far),
Math Wizard
Ormskirk is a market town in West Lancashire, England. It is situated 13 miles (21 km) north of Liverpool city centre, 11 miles (18 km) northwest of St Helens, 9 miles (14 km) southeast of Southport and 15 miles (24 km) southwest of Preston. Ormskirk is famous for its gingerbread.
An open market is held twice-weekly, on Thursdays and Saturdays, in the pedestrianised centre of Ormskirk. The location was originally the junction of the main roads to Preston, Liverpool and Wigan, and was marked by a market cross until it was replaced by the current clock tower in the nineteenth century.
Impressive buildings at Harenc School, Foots Cray. The clock itself appears to have stopped: it was about 10:05am when this picture was taken.
A nearby plaque commemorates Ted Heath opening the east wing of the school in 1996. Some people think he's still alive but he passed away in 2005.
At the very top of the Daniels & Fisher Clocktower, Denver... the bell went off a few minutes after I took this... my god was it loud.. :)
________________
Penny: You don't even like people touching you. How are you and Amy going to have sex?
Sheldon: Why on Earth would we do that?
Penny: To have your baby. Didn't your mom have the talk? You know, when your private parts started to grow?
Sheldon: I am well aware of the way humans usually procreate, which is messy, unsanitary, and judging from living next door to you for the past three years, involves loud and unnecessary appeals to a deity.
Penny: Oh, God.
Sheldon: Exactly...
--"The Big Bang Theory" (CBS)