Finding elements of the Nativity in London's streets

Wandering around Mayfair on Monday looking at Christmas decs, I noticed there is a gated cul-de-sac on the western side of Davies Street called Three Kings Yard. How very Christmassy. I mused at why this might have been given this name. 

I haven't done a deep dive into the whys and hows, I just did a quick bit of basic googling which says what I sort of expected, that the name probably comes from a pub or inn that was here in the 18th-century. It's Christmas Eve and I'm too lazy right now to double-check through the old directories and maps, but reference to a pub makes sense, as per the one off Clerkenwell Green that used to be fab and quirky but has since been sanitised, and the other one in West Kensington.

It got me wondering about other Nativity-related street names in London...

Mary Street is not far from Angel, Islington, but Joseph Street is in Bow and Jerusalem Passage is in Clerkenwell. Sheep Lane in E8 is miles away from Shepherds Bush and/or Shepherds Market, and you need to go all the way to Enfield to find Donkey Lane. The Three Kings from Leyton Orient might have travelled from Star Street in Paddington to Jesus Green in E2, but they wouldn't find a Pret a Manger there. There are lots of roads beginning with Gold but, unlike Bolton, we don't have a Myrrh Street here and, as for Frankincense, the nearest we have is Frank St in Canning Town.

I'll stop now!  

Wishing you health, wealth and happiness for he coming year, Jane

Cecil Beaton's Fashionable World at NPG – it's all in the details

I finally found time to see the excellent Cecil Beaton show at The National Portrait Gallery. Ooh it's lovely. 

We often think of him merely for his 1950's voluminous satin concoctions, as shown above, and his award-winning designs for My Fair Lady (1964), but there was much more to the man than that, as shown in these next examples in which he used picture frames, cracked mirrors, clever lighting and strong shadows, even a mattress, to marvellous and moody effect:

Here are a couple of pics of the man himself, in his youth with his fellow Bright Young Things, dressed up as a couple of trend-setting 1920's ladies, and captured in oil paint:

Cecil Beaton is created some extraordinary portraits of film stars and celebrities. The NPG has chosen to feature his image of Elizabeth Taylor, a lady he was not too fond of, for much of their merchandising (not shown here) but, to my mind it's the way he captured Gary Cooper, Katherine Hepburn, Joan Crawford and John Wayne that better shows off his talents:

There are also lots of photos of Audrey Hepburn at the show. One image in particular fascinated me because, due to the excess of makeup she is wearing, it doesn't actually look like her. Her coquettish charm masked in thick make-up:

It occurred to me that her look in this image is very now, very 2020s. She is seen with overdrawn enhanced lips and eyebrows, false eyelashes and lots of foundation. I've paired it with a different kind of retouching – a self portrait of Beaton in his mid-20s where he has altered the surface of the negative/print by adding daubs to denote snow for a Christmas card. 

Quite a few pre-press photos shown here are retouched. For instance, I know people were much slimmer back then, but I very much doubt that the lady against the cracked mirror in the pic above, really had a stomach quite so flat and hips that narrow. I'd had spotted some retouching in one of the first rooms so I went back to take a closer look.

These images of society ladies dressed up for balls and parties at some of London's most fashionable venues are fabulous, made all the more interesting by the retouching on them, designed to enhance the highlights of their jewel encrusted accessories and shiny fabrics, and also to slim their figures. The pic above left shows where the girl has gone from a size 14 to a size 8 by the application of opaque white paint on her midriff, both front and back. The splattering of paint behind her is bizarre. Another lady with stars on her head has what can only be described as stippled hair extensions.

The next two images are sections from a photo of a very Jazz Age lady bedecked in pearls, beads and rhinestones:

The green flashes are reflection from the lights in the room on the protective glass, but the white paint, probably gouache, is evident, added to almost every globule and crease on her long satin gloves to better enhance the lustre on the jewels and the sheen on the cloth. 

I love this. It takes me back to my first years working in the design and advertising industry, before the age of desktop publishing, AppleMacs and Photoshop, when we used Cowgum, Rotring pens, PMT cameras and Letraset to create artworks for print. It was at the tail end of an era when every company had at least one person whose job it was to retouch photos with pen and ink, brushes and paint, as shown on these images.

On returning to the first section of the exhibition, where a collection of gorgeous portraits of society ladies is arranged on a midnight blue wall enhanced by beautifully-made paper flower arrangements that perfectly enhance and echo the images, I couldn't believe how I hadn't spotted the clunky retouching on these prints on first seeing them. 

But then, that's how retouching should be; you ought not notice it, even when it's as obvious as this next lady's unusually sleek features and Lillie Langtree's crisp profile:

The next two pics show that Mrs MacAdoo has lost her left shoulder and a sliver off the side of her face, and Miss Gellibrand has a nasty gash along her jawline:

I love that these are the the original retouched images. Yet it's odd that these adjustments are not mentioned in the panels that accompany any of the images. I'd like to know how much Cecil Beaton was involved. Perhaps these are his own daubs?

On the subject of the man himself making a mark on his own images, I'd first noticed a lovely signature under an image which looks to be created with one of those multi-coloured pencils:

Yet, in the same room, I spotted two different signatures, both in pink:

He signed his name in a variety of styles, with no identifiable mark. This surely must make identification and valuation of his work quite difficult.

If you haven't seen the show yet, do make an effort, because there's much more to see and find out in this multi-layered show than I have shown here – but there's less that a month left to see it – ends 11th January 2026.

If the Search facility is not visible at top right...

...simply scroll to the bottom of your screen and click on 'View Web Version'

Two Tottenham Ghostsigns

Heading to Bruce Castle from the High Rd on Saturday I checked up on a few things at the western end of Bruce Grove – the repurposed toilets, the old cinema, my favourite blue plaque and hints of bygone businesses. 

The latter category includes this hand painted sign high up on the side of No.2. This advertisement would have been clearly visible from the railway line and station in the days before the building that is now a pizzeria was constructed at the corner. 

MOORE & SON

BUILDER & DECORATOR

SCAFFOLDING LENT ON HIRE

P…… 65 TOTTENHAM

I'm not sure what that last line means – it’s surely an address but it’s odd to have the number after the undecipherable road name. When I have more time I will check the old directories to see if I can find out. 

Update 18Dec: In the comments below, Geoff suggests that the last line probably says PHONE (number) TOTTENHAM. I had dismissed this idea being as phone numbers were usually configured with a three letter code before the four numbers. However, when this sign was painted, Tottenham would have been in the suburbs, outside the London phone district and would not have would not followed that format. I've just sourced a pic I took back in February 2010 and it's clear the word at bottom left is indeed PHONE – thanks Geoff!

After a very pleasant 90 minutes or so inside Bruce Castle (fab – there's so much to see and learn in there) I headed west along Lordship Lane and noticed that there must surely must be a large hand-painted sign hidden behind two large billboards on side of No.205:

A glimpse of black on yellow can be seen between the panels. 

Actually, the sign must have been huge because this 2009 google streetview shows remnants of paint across the whole wall.

Can anyone recall what the painted sign advertised?  I’m thinking it was likely to be a well-known product such as Gillette or Brymay. 

I will update this as and when I find out more info, so please add a comment so that you get alerts about new developments.

I'm truly appalled – the Willen House transformation is worse than I'd imagined.

This is the latest update about the 'renovation' of Willen House, a spectacular and rare example of of 1940's architecture that was opened by the then Mayor of Finsbury in 1948. The building was clad in the most gorgeous fired tiles in warm toffee tones, the like of which I have yet to see anywhere else, not just London. You might have noticed that I just used the past tense. Read on...

I have been avoiding Bath Street for a while now. Whenever I'm on a No.43 bus going past the end of the street along City Road I avert my eyes, because I wanted to wait and see what the reveal would be, hoping that my concerns would be misappropriated. 

I had also put on hold my Art Deco Shoreditch guided walk because Willen House had been a highlight along the route – it was always a joy to see people's faces and hear their gasps of amazement when I explained that this was post-WW2, not strictly what we call the Art Deco era.  

I heard that the scaffolding had been removed. A few days ago, after a lovely wander around the Golden Lane estate and finding myself so close to Bath Street, I thought it was about time to go and check it out. As I walked in from the City Road end... my heart sank: 

It just looks like another modern building inspired by the Art Deco era but made with cheaper-looking products. Edging along Bath Street, audibly muttering expletives to myself, I noticed that the fluted columns that used to flank the doorway are also gone. The letterform used for the name is just plain boring (tho it does match the building I suppose):

It is now a pastiche of its former self. They have removed ALL of the tiles and replaced them with pre-formed panels that replicate the design of the old building. Why bother? What has happened to all those fabulous earthenware glazed fired tiles? Have they been repurposed? Were they sold as architectural salvage? I feel another letter to the developer and architects is due.

Here's the view from the southern corner, compared with a montage of images that shows how it used to look a few years ago. The weather on both days was very similar, yet the top pic of the revamp looks stark, whereas the 1940's façade looks warm. 

The window frames did need replacing and the new ones are an improvement, but why is everything black these days? This is a fashion that will soon change. They could have added come colour to our world and painted them a luscious shade of green as per the balconies metalwork Dorset House near Baker Street. Ooh, that would have been nice. 

The old tiles in warming tones of caramel, cream and chocolate formed a continuous curtain around the building, but today's version employs panels with gaps between which, I hope, will be filled. Also, what's happened to the commemorative plaque that used to be on the Lever Street corner? Will it be replaced? Doubtful. Perhaps they've given to Islington Museum? I have too many questions!

My flabber is ghasted. We have people outraged at the proposed development of a not very Deco building in Oxford Street because it happens to be owned by M&S, yet Willen House is abused with nary a squeak.

I just don't see what they have achieved here. Re-purposing the main structure is, of course, a good idea but I'd have preferred a complete redesign of the exterior rather than this pathetic nod to the past. Seeing as they have copied [some of] the original façade can we hope that there will be a small heritage area in the foyer explaining the building's name and the company behind it? If so, perhaps I can help with that, being as I have so much info on file having researched it for my walks and talks! 

This is the second revamp to scupper my Art Deco Shoreditch walking tour, Gilray House having been blandified with grey paint a few years back, however its façade is still recoverable. The archiectural appreciation route already included some adaptions both good and bad, as well as modern buildings that cleverly riff on the Streamline Moderne aesthetic. Now, due to the re-cladding of Willen House, I will be updating the tour to highlight how the Art Deco design styles of the 1930s continued to influence architects through the subsequent decades. On the positive side, this means I can now include some excellent 1950's buildings along the way. Please keep an eye on my Eventbrite page for updates.