The Cinema Museum, Lambeth – always worth another visit

I wrote about The Cinema Museum after a visit in 2013 and I have been back a few times. Every time I go there I discover something new or get talking to someone who inspires me. 

Last year, in January 2023, I was lucky to be able to sit and chat for a while with its founder Ronald Grant, who set up the archive – an engaging man with lots of stories to tell. I then spent ages perusing all the books and magazines on their extensive shelves (good job I had a carrier bag in my pocket – I came home laden with inspiration).  

The museum's corridors are slathered marvellous exhibits and, of course, with my Art Deco walking tours hat on, I reached for my camera phone. Realising I was about to get snap-happy, I decided to I limited myself to a few shots of the fabulous 'Art Deco' era display boards. These were created by artisan workmen (and women?) using lengths of wooden mouldings sawn and arranged into geometrical patterns, then gilded or hand-painted for better effect. The film posters and info could then be attached/inserted within the decorative frames. Gorgeous:

The next pic below illustrates some hand-painted letterform where the lower case Ts are truncated and 'in' is italicised at a quirky angle with a lovely flick on right leg. Note that the sign writer here is not copying a typeface (or using a font!) – he would, no doubt, have been inspired by type styles of the day, but has implemented his own style and adjustments. The end result is wonderfully human and possibly unique to the artist and/or this venue. Note also, the oddly stretched letters (compare those two As!), hints of kicks/serifs on some letters and the slightly off-kilter centred alignment.  

There are also mechanical elements on display such as sliding sections to indicate which seats were available, see above right. Such a simple process. These days we'd be standing there checking an app.

I visited the museum again in June 2024. After Martin's presentation about the fascinating story of the archive and the museum, we were treated a wonderful showreel of old movie clips, silent movies and cartoons, ranging from slapstick to pathos, from romance to daredevil stunts. It included some early Tom and Jerry cartoons and it was amazing to revisit the extreme hurt that Fred Quimby's cat and mouse inflicted on each other, something that I am sure is not allowed today, even within animations. T&J were teatime viewing when I was a child – dastardly deeds and vicious feuds between the protagonists, such as burned body parts, stepping on garden rakes, tails caught in machinery, electric shocks, etc, and back then I thought this was simply amusing, or dull. This time I laughed and shrieked with a mix shock and awe. I'm sure if we were to play these cartoons to the under-10s of today they'd be horrified, and their mothers would be writing complaints on social media. 

The next pics are the ones I took this year. The first pic shows a collection of four panels that were used to insert stills of the movies being shown. On close inspection, I noticed that the board at the top left had a maker's label on it showing it was made by Classic Displays of 3 Islington High Street (recently converted to The Peacock pub). This link shows that in 1947 the company specialised in decorative and modern window treatments and, in particular, their Tessor Pelmet (an example here). Their ad on p45 of the 1945 Kinematic Yearbook offers "The Publicity Service Display that is Effective, Economical, Descriptive and Artistic"

And here are some pics of lovely lettering and brushwork within some of the old cinema display boards:

Some of the panels display photos of the stars of the day. Someone in the retouching department appears to have been rather heavy-handed with Gary Cooper. Check out his overly-enhanced eyebrows and lashes, his sculpted features and what looks like new set of ill-fitting overly-white veneers! All of these bizarre 'enhancements' are popular today. Perhaps the retoucher was extremely forward-thinking?! 

I urge you to visit this museum – Some Saturdays are drop-ins, and your ticket includes tea and biscuits (a bar is also available) a talk and a a short collection of movies – more info here where you'll find out about the crowd funding drive to keep this marvellous asset alive. 

The shops around The Royal Exchange – Searle & Co, cigars and stale pastries

Wandering around The Royal Exchange in The City of London on a quiet Sunday afternoon I happened to notice what might be the tiniest light well I have ever seen. I'd say its approx 40cm x 30cm. It is one of many interesting details around this island of commerce... 

But before I show you some nice things, let's consider the window display next door at No.31 where unsold pies and pastries were festering and going stale in the window. Ugh. 

I have often mused what happens to all the unsold produce of this kind. How do companies calculate how many units they should make so as not be left with so many unsold? It's clear by this demonstration that they clearly have their sums wrong. Bad calculations like this mean the fresh unit price is often too high being. I personally think it's outrageous to charge over £3 for one of these little snacks. I've since seen another branch of Chango also displaying produce that's past its use-by date. For the life of me I cannot understand why they think this is a good idea. It looks lazy and ugly. They should bake less pies, give the unsold ones to the homeless and display photos in the window when the shops are closed. 

Now I've got that off my chest, let's look at the old hand-painted door numbers around The Royal Exchange at shoulder level, some dating from at least 100 years ago:

Number 33, is today another bun shop (but with no unsold produce in the window) at it still sports the signage and fittings from when this used to be Botterill's cigar shop. The company had been trading from here and at 70 Cheapside since at least 1852 under the name of G. Botterill. I think fair to assume that H is the son. This small shop interior has many authentic fittings:

It was still a cigar shop until October 2016 as shown here when it was J. Redford & Co. 

Around the corner, in Cornhill, there are two lovely hand-painted number nines:  

Then, on the East side of the block, Mount Blanc and Aspinal site within shops that retain some nice windows and fittings, but no numbers:

But my favourite shop here is Searle & Co at No.1, on the Cornhill side, where a host of fabulous fittings are still in place – punched metal, polished brass, buffed granite, carved wood, parquet flooring, bronze window frames, and more. Much of this probably dates back to at least the 1880s when this was owned by James Murray & Co, a watch and clock maker. By 1910, Frederick Clarke, also a watchmaker, was here before Searle & Co who arrived took on the shop in 1933. 

Walter Henry Searle and family had been trading in the City of London since 1893. Sadly, the company closed in 2021 and the stock was sold at auction. Since then the shop has remained empty, as shown in my photos – more info here on Fellows site which includes some interestng history and stories about Searles. Peering inside the shop it's possible to see some of the display cabinets mentioned in that link and an elegantly-designed safe made by Milners: 

Let's see what evolves. As with the cigar store, this company has long been a fixture at this site, so it's sad to see them go. It'll probably be turned into another pastries shop.

Estate Agent ghostsign at Fulham Broadway Station.

I can’t be the only one now singing “I could be the ticket man at Fulham Broadway Station” from Ian Dury’s What A Waste. 

It was about 15 years ago when I first noticed this sign at the top of the stairs that links the platforms to the original Grade II listed station building at street level. When the station was built, this area was known as Walham Green.

On that occasion I hung back and waited to let the other travellers pass me as I took some snaps, thinking I’d look into it when I got home.  But it got shelved. It got lost in the 'To Do' folder. I got distracted by other things. Life got in the way.

I’ve since used the station often and almost every time I'm there I take a quick pic to nudge myself into action but it still festers in my In tray. Yesterday, I was back again and, whilst taking these photos, it occurred to me that fewer people notice it since the station entrance was relocated to the other end of the platforms within the modern shopping centre, this original exit staircase now acting merely as a means to access the opposite platform. 

Having done a quick google and, found nothing but a few photos out there, and with 15 years of procrastination under my belt, I think it's about time I had a go at deciphering it, so here goes... 

At the extreme top left, a section is headed ‘Phone Nos’:
KENSINGTON 2513
CITY 3559
RICHMOND 843.
There are also some faded words at an angle to the left of that which could be ‘Selected… at… ton’ 

At the top right are the addresses of the ‘Offices’:
THE BROADWAY, WALHAM GREEN
28 ST MARTIN'S LANE, CANNON ST
AND AT ACTON.
To the extreme right at an angle: NORBURY / NEW MALDEN

Most of the advertisement looks to have been covered, and indeed protected by, posters of various sizes and shapes. The centre section in particular, below ESTATE AGENT, still has lots to offer. This area was looking really grubby covered in a mix of glue and dust, as shown in StockCarPete's 2011 pic, but it was cleaned, which is great but this has meant we've lost some of the hand-painted letters. 

The words I can't quite decipher are in [square brackets]:

PROBATE & [M..R..E..G]

INCOME TAX ADJUSTED

Freehold & Leasehold Houses

can be Purchased [ov?] Pav[inor?]

£50 down & Balance as Re[nt?]

Businesses Sold & Transferred

INSURANCES EFFECTED

[?..] Principal Offices.

Freehold Building Land for

[?..] Sale[?] & Advance In[?vestment/surance]

I'm pretty sure the company advertised here is John Crawford Platt, auctioneer, who was at No.561 Fulham Road (opposite side to the station, near the Town Hall) in the 1890s until at least 1915. 

I'm struggling to understand the second address listed as St Martin's Lane, Cannon St, which surely cannot be one and the same – 28 St Martin’s Lane is The Chandos public house near Trafalgar Square. The ref to Cannon Street might suggest an offce within a building by the name of St Martin, but there are no churches of that name in The City of London except St Martin's Le Grand which I am ruling out because that's other side of St Pauls to Cannon Street.

J.C.Platt seems to have quit Walham Green/Fulham Broadway, and all other branches, by the 1930s to consolidate the company's efforts in Hammersmith, as shown in the1939 directory, below. There are a couple of lovely J.C Platt wall signs to be found in the Hammersmith and Fulham area here and here.  

I know realise that I need to go back and have a closer look at the bottom right section of the sign because, as with the panel deciphered above, there surely must be something discernible in there. But until then, my work here is done until I find more/better info – any additional reference welcome.

Read about other ghostsigns for estate agents here in Hendon. and here in Goldhawk Road and here

Public Art in The City of London – Sara Barker at Angel Court

Angel Court echoes an ancient path that today links Throgmorton Street to Copthall Avenue between high-rise glass office buildings. During Lockdown, whilst wandering the City of London's quiet streets on a hunt for works made by women (working title: Formed by Females*) I tracked down two metalwork sculptures created by Sara Barker in 2017. 

Earlier this month I revisited these works and took these photos. First, 'Selvedge With Dark' at the Throgmorton Street end. I really like the subtle interplay of the overlaid flat mesh panels. I am a sucker for a grid pattern.

At the other end of Angel Court, high of the wall is this piece called 'Last of Light (Three Needles)' which references the old name of nearby Three Needle Street (Threadneedle St):

*The whole point of this had been to highlight how few pieces of pubic art have been created by women. Well, it turns out there are lots!  For instance, across the metropolis, we also have excellent works by Frick, Hambling, Jonzen and Hepworth to name just four and, also in the City, between Cannon Street and Queen Victoria Street, is one of my favourite pieces (actually three large pieces) 'Forgotten Streams' by Cristina Iglesias here – you might recall her similarly excellent installation in Burlington House courtyard as part of the RA Summer Show 2022.

Graffiti at Horseguards Parade building

Horseguards Parade ground links Whitehall to St James's Park. I love marching across the open space  listening to the scrunch scrunch scrunch of the gravel beneath my feet. Approaching from Whitehall, two of the King's Life Guards sit mounted on horseback either side of the gate, usually surrounded by tourists taking photos. An information panel behind them gives a bit of background:

But there's so much more to see here than good looking young soldiers and beautiful beasts – continue into the passageway and look up to see a parish boundary marker painted on the stone ceiling:

This delineation marker at the junction of St Martin-in-the-Fields and St Margaret's, Westminster, is rarely noticed by the thousands of tourists, and indeed Londoners, who daily walk through here. But there's something else to check out next time you are using this cut through – scratched into the stone walls here there are marks said to be made by the guards, possibly as they wait to move forward to the parade ground:

There are full names, initials and dates of varying sizes and quality. The middle right pic above shows a couple of dates; 1886 and 1924. Bottom left shows P.C. Burt, R.H.C. (Royal Household Cavalry).

Some areas are slathered in multi-layered scratchings and others are very well incised, such as the marks left by Parking and Paynter:

High up at the top of one of the arches on the right-hand side (as you enter from Whitehall) there is a name that looks like W. A. Burrows, beautifully executed in italic script (pics 2, 3 and 4 below): 

I'm wondering if he had to stand on his horse to achieve that mark. Also, how long did it take to create? Another question is, what implements did they use to make the marks? Hand held tools look to have been the favourite in the most part and some marks have been infilled with a black substance which I'm guessing is boot polish. 

Some marks at lower level are dotty, messier and less distinct. I think these might have been made by the guards bashing their boots/spurs into the walls. A good example is shown below, left:

As I stared at the walls, trying to decipher names and dates, it occurred to me that many of the marks might actually be quite recent and not created by the guards at all. Almost as that thought popped into my head, two eastern European fellas walked in from the parade side and made a bee-line for the dotty heart containing the letters W.A.P. over W.L. (below left above T.S.). One fella pointed it out to the other in a sort of 'see, look there!' fashion, and the second fella seemed to say 'oh yeah' and then they walked off at speed back the way they came. Perhaps he knows who made that mark and what it means, or he could have done it himself. It looks to me to be created by a metal punch of some kind. 

Also within that same top left pic: J.H.Q. is followed by 1925-26, although I am befuddled by TSCATS. In the other pics, Andrew O'Connor and A. Richardson haven't dated their work but there appears to be a hint of '54 under Kennedy's weak scratchings, and I think 1.31 after PL/LW in the last pic could be January 1931.

Do go and look for yourself. I wonder which of these marks is the oldest and the the newest.

Farm Hall at the gorgeous Theatre Royal, Haymarket

I'm a bit late with this as Farm Hall, the production I went to see a few weeks ago, has now finished its run. I really enjoyed the play – clever and thought-provoking conversations between captured officers imprisoned in a stately home during WW2 – go Google for reviews.

The thing about going to the theatre or to the cinema is that we rarely look around us at the often sumptuous surroundings being as we are too busy chatting with our friends, trying to find our seats, or queueing for drinks, ice cream or the toilet during the interval. Then the play ends and we all splurge out into the street having missed all the clever architectural embellishments within.

I often go to the theatre or cinema alone to be able to pay attention to the production without interjections and conversations and, during the intervals, I like go investigating. I have visited The Theatre Royal Haymarket many times and each time, even though it's small, I find something new. Many years ago I went on a tour of the building, yet I don't seem to have written about that experience here. (note to self; dig out those photos and add to this post). 

On this occasion my seat was in the stalls and I took a sequence of snaps of the opulent surroundings 

The first half of the play flew by being as it was so engrossing. In the interval I went exploring and  found intriguing little hinges and handles and shiny brass plates within the floor and as push plates on doors:

These doors lead to The Oscar Wilde Room, named to commemorate his two plays that were staged here. The room is also signposted at the front of the theatre under the portico and there is a green plaque at the rear of the theatre at shoulder level here.  Adjacent to this room is a recess that would have contained an ash tray, no doubt used by Oscar himself, a keen cigarette smoker. 

Continuing the subject of ashtrays, the very first pic showing my ticket is in front of a brass corner shelf on the stairs which was also used for this purpose. Here's a better pic of it:

The second pic is looking down into the bar area which, as these next pics show, is slathered in stucco:

And then the bell rang and we all returned to our seats via the doors marked 'Exit' 

I am convinced that there used to be a bakelite phone within one of the stairwells. Or perhaps I am getting my theatres confused. 

UPDATE: Yep... I have found some pics I took in 2015 whilst on a guided tour:

The phone was on the stairs where a flower-shaped window offered a marvellous view out to Haymarket and Her Majesty's Theatre, opposite. But I cannot recall seeing the phone when I went to see Noises off* in November 2013 otherwise I'd have taken more photos of it.

The next two pics show a brassy little pot that I expect was instead used to stash chewing gum or other small rubbish. Not being screwed down, I suspect it was pocketed. The animal head along the handrail is one of many in the bar area.

*my one-word review of that 2023 production of Noises Off: painful.