Gothic architecture is everywhere over here in France. In this episode of Exploring France, I photograph four separate Gothic cathedrals and abbeys in central France to show you the beautiful sights there are to behold.
The weather on Sunday, 04 October 2020, was pretty bad for most of the day. So I decided to do a loop taking in these architectural wonders of the Middle Ages.
Vendôme Abbey is the earliest example shown here, with its stunning Gothic Flamboyant style evidenced in the west front.
Chartres Cathedral has been considered such a masterpiece of High Gothic architecture that UNESCO made it a World Heritage Site. You could spend a whole day here, but sadly, I didn’t have nearly enough the amount of time I wanted.
Orléans Cathedral was constructed after Chartres and was known to be the place where Joan of Arc would pray during the siege of Orléans.
Lastly, the smaller but beautiful Blois Cathedral was the last Gothic cathedral built that I visited. It’s got a mixture of styles in it, but the Gothic is there.
So if you’re a fan of architecture, then I hope you’re going to enjoy my latest YouTube vlog entitled Gothic Cathedrals and Abbey. Next up is going to be a tutorial further expanding what I’ve done here…I hope!
And if you’re interested in discovering the Loire Valley with a camera, then do check out my annual Loire Valley photo tour in May.
I planned this route as a loop through central France, with each stop showing a different Gothic cathedral. Some buildings were grand and famous, some felt more intimate, but each one gave me something different to photograph.
This quick overview shows the shape of the day:
| Place | What drew me there | What I focused on |
|---|---|---|
| Vendôme Abbey | Gothic Flamboyant detail and a strong interior | The nave and the side aisle |
| Chartres Cathedral | High Gothic grandeur and a UNESCO-listed masterpiece | The west front and the choir screen |
| Orléans Cathedral | Joan of Arc’s connection and richly coloured interior detail | The ambulatory |
| Blois Cathedral | A smaller final stop with a Gothic character | The nave and ideas for future shots |
The weather stayed poor for most of the day, but that suited this trip well. Outside, rain can flatten a scene. Inside a cathedral or abbey, soft overcast light often helps because it keeps contrast under control and lets the stone, arches and vaults speak for themselves.
That said, I still prefer sunlight in some interiors. Long shafts of light across chairs, stone floors and the nave can make a church feel alive. I didn’t get that on this outing, so I had to work with shape, line and balance instead.
I started in Vendôme at the Abbaye de la Trinité. The west front alone explains why the place matters, with its Gothic Flamboyant detail and all the movement that style carries in the stonework. Inside, the abbey is every bit as striking, and I also knew there was a cloister worth exploring if time allowed.
What made this first stop so useful was the weather. Although sunlight would have helped with dramatic shadows through the windows, the wet conditions gave me a calm interior with even light. That let me concentrate on structure, and structure is everything in a place like this.
My first photograph in Vendôme was a vertical composition looking straight down the nave with a 24mm tilt-shift lens. This is where that lens earns its place in my bag. If I use a normal wide lens and tilt the camera up, the verticals start to close in. The columns, arches and walls all look as if they are falling backwards.
When I keep the camera level and shift the lens upwards, those lines stay upright. The change is immediate.
When I photograph Gothic architecture, I want to keep everything bolt upright. The building already has enough drama without extra distortion.
I also pay close attention to what the eye naturally reads in the frame. In this shot, I had diagonal lines pulling in from both sides, and I used them to lead the eye towards the far end of the nave and the area where the priest stands. That gave the image a clear path through the space.
There is one complication with old Gothic cathedrals and abbeys, though. Their foundations often move over time. So even when the camera is level, the building itself may not be perfectly straight. I try to respect what is there rather than forcing false precision into the file.
Because the 24mm tilt-shift is a manual lens, I often have to make slow, careful adjustments on the tripod. I check the frame, shift the lens up, move the tripod slightly, and make sure braces, columns and the edge details all sit where I want them. In Vendôme, one of these shots ran to around 15 seconds, which was fine because nothing inside was moving.
After that, I moved into the aisle. Church interiors often give more than one strong composition, and the aisle is a perfect example. I can either look straight down it, using columns and floor tiles as leading lines, or I can work from the other side and shoot in towards the nave with arches stacking across the frame.
For this set of images, I switched to a 24-70mm lens and zoomed in to 70mm. That longer focal length helped control distortion without needing a second tilt-shift lens. I still had some converging verticals, but far less than I would have had with a wider setting.
I kept the camera in vertical format because the subject was tall, not broad. Then I framed the base of one column near a corner of the image and used the floor pattern to pull the eye deeper into the scene. A security camera crept into one corner of the frame, so I adjusted my position to hide as much of it as possible and left the rest to a minor clean-up later.
My focus point sat about one-third into the scene, and I used f/16 with an exposure of about 20 seconds. This was a good reminder that I don’t always need tilt-shift glass for church interiors. Sometimes a standard zoom lens, used with care, does the job well.
Chartres is one of those Gothic cathedrals that can stop me in my tracks. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and when I arrived, I had to wait for a service to finish before I could work properly inside. The weather kept changing, too, so I spent time outside trying to make the most of the west front when the light improved.
Even with those delays, I managed to make the exterior photograph I had wanted for a long time. That mattered because the west front at Chartres has a weight and balance that sums up High Gothic architecture so well.
Inside, the scale of the place takes over straight away. I kept my voice low because it is still a place of worship, and I moved quickly because I knew I was short on time. That was frustrating, since Chartres is one of those buildings where an hour disappears without warning.
The composition that caught my eye first was the choir screen. I placed a diagonal line from the lower corner of the frame so it followed the carved stonework and led into the aisle beyond. It was a simple photograph on paper, but simple images often depend on exact placement.
This sort of shot is easier with a tilt-shift lens because I can keep the camera level and still include enough height. That matters in Chartres, where almost every composition risks distortion if I rush.
The choir screen itself is beautiful, and the surrounding space gives it room to breathe. I made both horizontal and vertical versions because the stonework reads differently in each orientation. The vertical frame gave more emphasis to height, while the wider version helped show how the screen sits within the cathedral.
It wasn’t hard to see why I had come here. Every direction offered another detail, another line, another layer of stone carving that deserved time.
Chartres also reminded me that some places simply refuse to be rushed. I came away with photographs I liked, but I also knew I had only scratched the surface.
If I return, I want more time for the choir, the transept, the stained glass and the quieter side views that reveal how the structure holds together. A cathedral like this rewards slow looking. It never feels finished after one visit.
My next stop was Orléans Cathedral, which carries a different kind of pull because of its link to Joan of Arc. This was the cathedral where she is said to have prayed during the siege of Orléans, and that adds another layer to the visit even before I lift the camera.
Outside, I waited for sunlight to strike the facade and for people to move through the square. Public spaces are always a balance. People have every right to be there, so I simply had to be patient and take the shot when the scene opened up.
Inside, I found the same challenge that turns up so often in Gothic cathedrals.
These places are difficult to photograph. They are tall, narrow, dark in parts, reflective in others, and almost always full of shapes that punish sloppy framing.
In Orléans Cathedral, I worked in the ambulatory with the 24mm tilt-shift again, this time in portrait orientation. The ambulatory curves around the back of the choir, and it often feels as if the architecture is closing in around the camera. That makes it one of the hardest parts of a church to photograph well.
The coloured decoration here stood out straight away. Many Gothic cathedrals were painted, and in Orléans I could still see those rich tones along the stonework and vaulting. They gave the space a different feel from the pale stone interiors many people expect.
Without a tilt-shift lens, the verticals in this part of the building collapse badly. When I tested the view without shift, the lines pulled in so much that the whole frame felt wrong. So I levelled the camera first, then shifted the lens upwards until the arches sat properly.
Composition mattered just as much as correction. I kept one Gothic arch forming a frame near the edge of the picture and balanced it with a column on the other side. I considered using a polariser to reduce reflections from the floor, but it would have lengthened the exposure, and I was already racing the clock. I left the reflections in place and moved on.
Blois was my last stop of the day, and by then the whole trip had become a bit of a race. I arrived later than I had hoped because Chartres had taken more time, and Orléans had demanded patience as well.
Blois Cathedral felt smaller than the other cathedrals and abbeys I had visited that day. It didn’t seem as large as Chartres or Orléans, and it also felt less expansive than the abbey at Vendôme. Still, it had its own charm, and the Gothic character was there even with a mixture of styles in the building.
I finished with a look down the nave. After a day of huge interiors, the reduced scale changed the way the space read through the lens. It felt calmer and more contained, which was a good way to end.
There were two subjects I didn’t fully manage on this trip, and both are worth mentioning because they matter in church photography.
The first is the transept. This is where the arms of the church cross the main body. If I can stand beneath that crossing, level the camera and point straight up, I can make a strong symmetrical image that shows the structure in a way a side view never can. It is hard on the neck, but it often works beautifully.
The second is the choir from a lower position with a wide-angle lens. This works best in a high cathedral where I can place the camera level with the upper line of the choir roof and use the width of the lens to exaggerate the rise above it. I have made photographs like that in Tours and in churches in Paris, and they can be some of the most striking images from an interior.
Blois didn’t give me the space or time for either of those ideas, but the thought stayed with me because missed shots often shape the next visit.
One reason I enjoy days like this is that they sharpen the basics. When the light is flat and time is short, I can’t rely on drama. I have to rely on seeing clearly.
A wet-weather day is perfect for this kind of work. If I can’t be out in the landscape, I can head inside an abbey, church or cathedral and still come home with worthwhile photographs. Soft light, long exposures and careful framing suit stone interiors far better than many people think.
I also find it helps to know the names of the spaces I am working in, especially if I am shooting for stock or writing captions later. These are the parts I keep in mind:
Knowing those terms makes it easier to think clearly on location. It also helps me recognise where the best photographic opportunities are likely to be.
Lens choice made a difference all day, too. My 24mm tilt-shift handled the big architectural views and any scene where straight verticals mattered most. My 24-70mm helped in tighter compositions, especially when I wanted to compress the aisle and reduce visible distortion without changing lenses again.
If photographing architecture in France is your kind of trip, I also run Loire Valley photography tours, which fit naturally with places like these. The region gives me castles, towns, river light and church interiors, often within a short drive.
This day of photographing Gothic cathedrals and abbeys reminded me that poor weather doesn’t have to mean poor photography. Sometimes rain simply pushes me towards subjects that ask for patience, precision and a slower eye.
The strongest lesson was still the simplest one. In Gothic cathedrals, line matters. If I respect the geometry, watch the edges of the frame and work with the shape of the building, the photographs begin to settle into place.
