What's in a frame? Image, boundary, text

As a long-term admirer (though not so much as a connoisseur) of Pre-Raphaelite art, I have always been fascinated by the ways in which the Pre-Raphaelites (some of whom were poets as well as artists) framed their paintings with words and images. There is a brilliant blog on all things Frames written by a Courthauld-trained picture frame historian, and she has several posts on Pre-Raphaelite frames. Anyway because of this interest I have been (unconsciously) taking framed photos for a while now, and in some of them the frames are accompanied by text. I guess on an obvious level it gives you a framework (ahem) within which to work, but beyond that there is something satisfying about the ways in which images generate their own boundaries: sometimes through accident, and sometimes by design. All the pictures below have been taken, again, in either Oxford or London.

 The Savoy sweet shop, The Strand, London, 19 December 2013: a rather saccharine (cynical?) frame perhaps?. (Wish I'd taken this slightly more to the left).

View from my flat, East Oxford, Christmas Day 2013: do Christmas cards count as 'text'?

By Donnington Bridge, Oxford, 11 January 2014: not quite a frame, perhaps, but I like how the notice tries to write the scene, and the gate delineates the boundary. The 'purple' tree was a happy accident.

Sunset from my flat, East Oxford, 15 March 2014: I am lucky that my flat faces west! I like how the scene isn't quite what you would call beautiful -- it's as if the houses and cars are oblivious to what's going on in the sky above.

Garden view, Herne Hill, London, 22 March 2014: I like how the Victorian window frames actually cut through the scene rather uncertainly, in contrast to the jutting extension to the left. The garden walls and fences add more delineation, making a usually familiar view slightly unsettling (& askew).

 M Bar, Leadenhall Market, City of London, 26 March 2014: this old-style Italian bar is beautifully designed, so generated its own frames really. Yet it is not a flawless scene, by any measure. The glass cabinet at the front seems, on further inspection, to be full of bags (used for storage, perhaps); and are those Walker's crisps packets above? But I do love how the man on the left is taking a moment to eat his lunch, and drink his wine, looking out through the window at another scene entirely.

For CW