J. Troake, Straw Chip & Leghorn Presser – is this London's oldest ghostsign?

Ah Spitalfields... it's ever-changing and there's always more to discover...  

Heading towards the market from Shoreditch High Street last Sunday, I turned into Commercial Street and pondered whether this pillared gateway used to offer access to Nichols and Clarke's sidings and their warehouse buildings in Blossom Street. Very much likely I think. 

On the other side of the road, the view was epic, looking like a painting of a castle on a hill above a rocky landscape and lush pine trees: 

I turned left into Elder Street. A cat in a Fleur-de-Lis Street window stared at me but barely moved. People stopped to coo coo at it. I wondered what the cat thought of them but I was more intrigued by a visibly distressed vintage Bentley plugged into a charger outside a Georgian house. Doi-oi-oing! 

Moving along this street early C18th street, built in the 1720s, I stopped to consider how this street has become so expensive to live here since Dan Cruikshank and his friends saved it back in the 1970s. It went from dilapidation and degradation through regeneration and gentrification to become properties that most of us can't afford to rent a cupboard in. I doubt that was Dan's intention.

On the plus side, the people who snapped up these properties spent a lot of time and effort reinstating many lost features such as door knockers and window shutters that would have been in place when these were the homes and working premises of Huguenot silk weavers. Indeed this next snippet from the 1841 Kelly's street directory shows that most businesses at that time were still associated with silk:

The next excerpt from 1882 shows how the street evolved to be rather more utilitarian. Elder Street and other neighbouring streets were no longer the homes of silk merchants, but of basic trades:

The numbering shown in the clippings does not tally with what we see today, and this is made evident at No.19 Elder St, where, if you look closely, you'll see that it used to be No.20. This was when the street was numbered up one side and down the other, rather than odds facing evens which later became more common. On either side of the door below '20' there are hand-painted signs for J. Troake, Straw Chip & Leghorn Presser, and some other words I have yet to decipher.

I love the way that only the word Presser is in italics, possibly to highlight a trade rather than a product. Also, theres that lovely use of the Georgian f where a double-s occurs, as in Prefser. It looks like the signs have been repainted at some time, and not just retouched. 

On the left street-facing side of the door there is another name in upper case italics which looks like 'L....ES" (see below, left). This is likely the name of another man/business using this address at the same time as John Troake. 

John Troake would likely have been the one of the first inhabitants of this street, selling a fine quality smooth straw used for making hats and offering a pressing service for leghorn style wide-brimmed hats which were popularised by wealthy Georgian ladies who wore them at an angle balanced on the the top of their overly-large wigs, often enhanced by other accessories and concoctions.

I wonder if this is the oldest London ghostsign..? Other similar examples of hand-painted Georgian signage come to mind, such as the lists of lawyers in Middle Temple and Gray's Inn, and those amusing polite notices, but they show names or instructions, not trades. 

Crossing the road to take a wide view of the house, I noticed that there is another faded sign aabove the fanlight, here cropped and enhanced:

I can make out what could be ELT at the top and Stanstead or Wanstead on the curve.  This could be another business within the building at that time. Let's leave it there for now. 

On the other side of the street, practically opposite No 19 there is one of the commissioned set of Spitalfields coal hole covers echoing the blue plaque above that commemorates Mark Gertler.  

Around the corner, Denis Severs House, in Folgate Street has a fine example of Egyptian decoration and a gas lamp, both subjects that I cover on my walking tours.

Sad to see that the old Water Poet pub building isstill empty. I stopped to took photos over two years ago and I'm pretty sure those lamps and boxes were there, exactly in the same place as today. 

Outside and inside

The developers revamped this whole block and built pastiche Victorian terraces along Norton Folgate (today), yet this once vibrant pub has been standing empty for too long. This is a big shame. Empty spaces, yet more tall buildings going up in adjacent streets. Go figure. 

Further info on any of the above, will be most gratefully received.

Kensington Gardens – strange chestnuts and up close at the Albert Memorial

Saturday 8th November was a glorious day weather-wise – a perfect day for the Lordy Lady Mayor's Show, but this year I had something else to do – I had an appointment at the Albert Memorial for another up close look at the Parnassus Frieze, this time not just as the final stop at the end of the tours we volunteers lead for The Royal Parks, but a site specific visit to find out more about the details and the people on the monument. 

I approached from Kensington High Street and entered the gardens at this little gate opposite Victoria Road (shown here in 2022):

As I veered to the right, heading towards the South Flower Walk, I happened to notice some strange conker-looking things on the grass at my feet. These were more shrivelled than the horse chestnut's globe-like shiny battle fruits, and the casings around the them were not thick and prickly but thin and almost smooth, segmented into three parts and very easy to remove. They certainly were not sweet chestnuts either as the leaves weren't right. I suspected these trees were likely from Asia.

Just as I was about to walk away, two adults and a child came up to me and asked me if I knew what the tree was and the child asked if she could eat the nuts. Ooh no, I said, best not, don't risk it. I thought about doing a reverse picture search, but the battery on my phone was down to the red section and I was keen to save the tiny bit of juice I had left for the Albert Memorial. I gave them my card and, picking up a half-cased nut to take away as reference, I told them I'd write it up here if I found out any info.

So here we are. I did try doing the reverse image search thing later that day when I was fully-charged. I got nowhere fast. It kept telling me it was a horse chestnut. If I searched using a pic of the leaves I got something else entirely. I gave up and decided to return to the task another day.

Two days later, on Monday evening, I was at a London Historians event. I got chatting to a nice couple and asked if they'd had a good evening seeing at this was the first time they'd attended. Chit chat chitty chat and, blow me down, if I hadn't just introduced myself to Greg Packman, who is the Arboricultural Officer for The Royal Parks! How have I not met this man before?! He's a walking talking tree encyclopaedia! So, of course, I asked him about my nut case and before I could get to the end of my sentence he'd interrupted me with "Indian Chestnut" – it turns out there's an avenue of these Aesculus indica trees along the edge of the road. 

Greg leads tree identification walks, workshops and events in the parks as listed in this Facebook page – I'll definitely be joining in soon. 

Back to Saturday... waving goodbye to the people by the tree, I passed Esme Percy's dog fountain near the closed toilets just beyond the cafe/kiosk and headed down the flower walk towards the Albert Memorial. 

Incidentally, why can't these toilets be reopened, or the ones at Hyde Park Corner for that matter? I have collected a lots of pics of public loos in the past two years – another topic lurking in my To Do folder).

At the memorial Barbara led us around the monument pointing out the many references before we went inside the gates and up the steps to get a good look at the frieze and other details that adorn this OTT monument, a memorial that Albert had said he most definitely didn't want, because all his efforts had never been about himself but for the betterment of the masses. I wonder if the plans for the revamp and additional statuary planned for St James's Park to commemorate our late Queen will also be a bridge too far, as I very much doubt she would have agreed to a blingy wedding tiara replacing the understated Blue Bridge that currently crosses the lake. 

Boob job?

What a lovely few hours. I told everyone on the tour that we lead guided walks every month in Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens and St James's Park, yet I've since learned that only the former is available this side of January. Such a shame. However, other events are available on TRP website here, or join me for one of my own tours.

A Deco-tastic wander around Claridges at Christmas – sensational and slapdash

A couple of weeks ago I attended an Art Deco-themed event at Claridges when the stylish and ever-young Virginia Bates showed us a selection of some of her Jazz Age clothing and accessories. Ooh lovely. I was so taken by the quality of the items and the conversation that I only took these two pics. 

After the event, it would have been remiss not to pop into the lovely ladies' lavs adjacent to the Davies Street entrance. It's gorgeous in there (go google for pics) but this time I noticed some recent bodge jobs that are at odds with the impeccable quality of the original elements. For instance, why oh why have they employed cowboys to fix substandard cheap fittings that can be bought off the racks in any homewares store? 

Two-pronged 'butterfly' hooks of this type can be bought four in a bag for about £2 here in Holloway. Yet Claridges' management has allowed these cheap things to be screwed onto wood panels and mouldings, as well as the insides of the marvellously marqueted doors within the cubicles. Most of the hooks are are not even hung vertically, which I know is hard to ascertain in my wonky pic (how ironic!). Notice also the use of basic cross-head screws where surely some chromed dome-heads with straight grooves would have been better suited. I took a pic of the gorgeously flamboyant door handle to cheer myself up and later noticed that the brass panel beneath it it is also affixed with nasty modern screws. 

Ugh! 'It's all in the details' here takes on a new meaning. Read on, dear reader...

Last year, walking along Brook Street I stopped to take a couple of snaps of the entrance to the ballroom which is only ever open when an event is happening in that space. I particularly love the metal gates in a style I personally refer to as 'Hollywood Deco' and the canopy above with its zig-zags panels and various finishes.

On that late November evening it had occurred to me that seeing as the Christmas decorations were already installed I should go inside and to investigate. Until a couple of years ago hotels wouldn't put up the decs until the first weekend in December. What's gone wrong with the world?!

Heading through the main door into the hotel... 

...then turned left and followed my nose into other areas, finding that most spaces were available to me because there weren't as yet, any events happening.

There are some evocative displays of Art Deco items either side of the corridor that leads towards the entrance to the ballroom. Below left is the view to the ballroom and other salons. The second pic is the view to the Brook Street:

Elegant Jazz Age metalwork and multi-layered mirrors are everywhere.

Two framed artworks by George Sherringham enhance one space. 

These are retrospective illustrations of the Britannia Theatre Hoxton and the Drury Lane Theatre, 1800. I have no idea if these venues have a specific relevance to Claridges in particular. Sherringham was contemporary of D'Oyly Carte and had created many backdrops for his Gilbert & Sullivan productions at The Savoy Theatre as well as a large scale artwork for the ballroom here which I can find no reference of today. 

The ballroom didn't seem that impressive to me. It all looks a bit corporate, sanitised and bland, more like the spaces you see in modern Dubai hotels, all black and white marble with square-cut corners, but with none of the artistry or clever design. 

In most of the pics I have cropped out other hints to the our modern world, such as trailing electrical leads, nasty plastic shelving, things made from that shiny chrome-effect stuff that looks like it was bought from B&Q, and shoddy repairs here and there. It's a shame that it's now only the original mirrors and light fittings that give a hint that these spaces are almost 95 years old.  I'd love to be able to time travel to see what it was actually like here in the thirties. 

I had a good wander about. Hardly saw another human, except for a couple of guests who had taken a wrong turn and wanted to get back to the reception, and the odd member of staff who either ignored me completely or gave me a cheery hello as they whizzed past. 

Before leaving I took a quick selfie in the mirrors and used the felicities (as I like to say) then headed back outside into the chilly streets to investigate more twinkling spaces. 

I'll pop in again soon and add pics of this year's decs. 

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Religion and Rembrandt and black black BLACK at Dulwich Picture Gallery

After visiting the wonderful Anna Ancher show last week I skimmed the artworks in the other rooms. There are some corkers to be found – every rime I visit I spot something new, probably because they move and swop the works to keep us on our toes!

On this occasion, I was engaged by a couple of preparatory sketches for ceiling works by Tiepolo located in the central area, almost opposite the main entrance:

Sketches? Wow! Gorgeous! The second one is 'Virtue and Nobility Putting Ignorance to Flight' commissioned for the Villa Cordelina in Venice. I do love a bit allegory.

I am also keen on religious themed artworks even though I don't believe in fairy stories. Who doesn't love the depiction of a tortured saint?! Last time I was there I took snaps of some paintings which were also in the central section on the opposite wall to where the Tiepolos are today, though I can't guarantee they are currently on view:

St Catherine of Siena by Carlo Dolci, above, bottom left, next to an interestingly amended work attempting to keep up with the zeitgeist of that era. 

On that day I also snapped a pic of Mrs Joan Allen looking fiercely elegant in black: 

A touch of the Princess Anne, I think. I wonder if that's a riding outfit.  

Black Black BLACK!  Note the reference to black dye being expensive back then. 

Black dye it might be cheaper now, but it's still one of the most difficult dyes to fix, and one of the most damaging for the planet vis the processes involved (go google) yet it is the most prominent [non] colour being worn today – I have never before seen so many people head to foot in black clothes as there are out there in 2025.  It's become a lazy uniform. Has someone died? Is everyone in mourning? Have we time-travelled back to the 1880s? Perhaps there's a permanent Goth or witches' convention? Or is Hallowe'en a year-round event now? Actually, no – whilst I think of it, Hallowe'en has become just an excuse for any kind of fancy dress with fake blood added. Schoolgirl? Policeman? Robot? Clown? Just add flour, ketchup and black eyeliner and you too will go to the party. And don't get me started about all that non-recyclable polyester used as fake cobwebs. But you can't have a plastic straw for your Um Bongo, your Kia-ora, or your G&T.  

Anyway, enough observational ranting... back to the lovely artworks... 

First a bit of showing off by Fragonard. He's the fella who painted the girl on a swing which is on display at The Wallace Collection. Ooh naughty!

On the end wall adjacent to the excellent gift shop there are paintings by Rembrandt showing how his style changed from detailed brushwork in 1632 on the left when he was 26, to his later looser style in 1668. Clara Reubens, the young girl, was painted in 1620 by her father, Peter Paul. They are all lovely. 

Finally, one of my favourite Thomas Gainsborough paintings is At Dulwich Picture Gallery. Dated 1753, it depicts 'A Couple in a Landscape' illustrating the wealthy land owners of that era, although their identity has never been specified.

I've here married it with a section of a small painting that hangs on my wall at home. The artist, Christopher H. Grisley has named the couple in his Gainsborough pastiche as Mr & Mrs Andrews, whoever they might be.

Dulwich Picture Gallery – more info here – oh, and a new cafe space has opened up adjacent to the gallery building – it serves really good coffee, by which I mean I had an Americano and it was actually strong coffee as requested – I couldn't see the bottom of the cup!

The delightful details on the Palais de Danse ghostsign at Hammersmith station

First of all, sorry about the dodgy photos – these were taken on two occasions using my phone. I really ought to have returned with a better camera but at least this finally gets the ball rolling as, yet again, this has been festering for years...

Facing the platforms at the end of the tube line at Hammersmith there is a wall on which is painted a huge advertisement for the dance hall that used to be on the other side of that wall, the Palais-de-Dance, AKA Hammersmith Palais. You can see the wall on the google satellite view here. 

It's a multi-layered hand-painted sign with overlapping elements that I think date from at least two eras. The wall has been photographed often but, although people have noticed and queried the pricing structure within the panels at each end as being different (2 shillings and sixpence for the cheaper afternoon session, and either 5 shillings at one end or 5 and 6 at the other end for the evening slot) and the strange adjusted spelling of TWISE which was more evident a decade ago, I haven't as yet seen anyone else make reference to all the other bits and bobs (rather than shillings) on it. So here goes...

First of all, here are two wide shots where I have drastically enhanced the colour to give us an idea how wonderfully vibrant the sign would have been 100 years ago. The main letters look to have been blue. The letterforms look to have been overpainted – check out the truncations visible on the left legs of the As which, to me indicates that a later letterform was applied which, over time, has degraded such that what we see today is, in the mostpart, the original early 1920's version:

The outlined letterform reads: PALAIS-DE-DANSE... THE TALK OF LONDON ... HAMMERSMITH.

But, look closely and there's more... from left to right...

Either side of the first price panel, those two random dark blobs are actually illustrations of couples dancing:

In both cases, the man is in formal black evening dress and the lady is outlined in white. The stance looks to be almost identical, al though it would be if they were dancing to the same tune. The lady on the right side is wearing a floaty green dress.

Caroline wrote a short piece about this sign on her blog which better show the clothes depicted and her pic below from 2009 highlights how these illustrations have degraded in the last 16 years. 

It appears that the couple on the left were always headless! But other people had no bodies at all – if you zoom in via the link above you will see that there were pairs of dancing feet coming in at the top edge of the wall. These surely would have continued all the way along the full length of the sign..?

Moving on...

Between the S of Palais and the D of De there is the vague suggestion of what could be another figure/dancer surrounded by coloured circles or bubbles floating about. 

Then, between De and the D of Danse there is another couple dancing. She is also wearing a green dress. This lady has her back to us with her bare right arm up, elbow visible, her hand would be holding the gentleman's shoulder). His outlined left hand is at her waist, in the small of her back, complete with white cuff and black jacket sleeve. They are also surrounded by coloured bubbles:

A horizontal orange stripe contains the words So[le] Managing Director. Looking at the left side of the horizontal strip in the previous image, some additional letters can be discerned: "W." and "M" – this, I believe is W. F. Mitchell, whose name is on most the Palais' ads during this period (see pic at the bottom). Indeed, if I've got this right, Mitchell was responsible for bring syncopated jazz nights to us at these new 'palais' venues.

Underneath the stripe there are some more words, small black letters on white. At the time of writing all I can now decipher from my poor photos (because I can't locate the notes I surely must've scribbled when I was there!) is "...IGN Co. An.." – I am pretty sure that this will be the sign maker's name followed by the street/area where his business was located beginning with An. I've looked at some old London directories but cannot find a suitable contender, however, it occurs to me that this sign might have been painted by someone that Mitchell engaged from elsewhere.

Continuing our journey across the wall, the recent repairs, evident as vertical stripes of new brickwork, have affected the sign as a whole, but many illustrative elements are still visible...

...such as a man at the centre of this next image who looks to be either conducting the music or conjuring the bubbles that decorate the whole wall...

He is also dressed in formal attire. Placed behind the MER of Hammersmith, his hands reach forward to the left and his head is tossed back. He possibly has floppy hair, and the two black marks could be either spectacles a moustache. 

It looks as if a subsequent painted panel obliterated much of this section, as denoted by the line that runs vertically through the second M of Hammersmith.

After 'Hammersmith' there is what looks like the outline of another dancing couple, the lady's bent legs being the only real clue, but I am not sure what to make of the blackened shape twixt the H and their knees. 

I think it's fair to assume that there was another dancing couple at the extreme right edge, but nothing is visible today. 

Here's a repeat of the enhanced wide shot of this side:

The entrance to the Palais de Danse was in Shepher's Bush Road and the exterior in the 1920s would have looked like this, as shown in the ad below. It is not the same building that many of us remember today which was a 1930's rebuild, itself demolished c2010. Note that The Laurie Arms pub next door, still stands, albeit for some reason renamed.

If you have any better resolution images or further info, please do get in touch 

The pics above show a press ad from 1921 which also appeared in colour in some magazines (easily googleable) and a snap of an illustration of this dancehall during that era that I took from one of my many books about Art Deco – when I find which book, I will annotate it properly.