Delightful street art by Max Jaz Art in Holloway Road

Next time you are shopping in Holloway, look out for a series of hand-painted artworks between Boots and Lidl.

I think I first spotted them in mid-2024, yet whenever I point them out to Holloway locals, whether friends, other shoppers or people at the bus stop, it is rare that they have ever noticed them before.

I love the double trompe-l'oeil of the corner window with a view beyond. A lot of time and effort has gone into this. They are little works of art containing, I think, hidden messages or stories. 

I wonder if the figure with a light in their hand is supposed to be anyone in particular:

Bizarrely, the chevron tape seems to enhance this artwork. Max Jaz is clearly a cat lover as a feline friend is shown on almost every panel. 

The panel closest to Lidl shows two people sitting at a table. It's the only piece that is signed, on the blue jumper, on the trainers and as a squared-up underneath:

If you look closely, you can see it's romantic – there are flowers on the table and fireworks in the sky. The blond moustachioed male on the left is secreting a ring underneath the table, probably about to propose marriage to the redhead in yellow. One of these people is surely the artist.

I can't quite deduce the name on her necklace though – something like Sanzalina – my photo here is a bit blurred – whoops! I think we can deduce that the couple shown embracing in the first pair of pics (with a cat at their feet and an angel playing a guitar above their heads) are the same two people. 

The style is ver much like murals I have seen. Which makes me wonder, at what size does a painting on a wall become a mural? Or does a mural have to tell a story or multiple stories? 

Any further info about the artist and the stories behind these works is most welcome. 

Braidwood Passage – Nicely reinvented with hand-made tiles

The scaffold has been removed and Braidwood Passage is again available as a link between Aldersgate Street and Cloth Street. It's a delight – and really uplifting to see some attractive new architecture, employing unusual bespoke decorative elements. 

This teal blue tiled wall with splashes of colour beckoned me to investigate its full length. The V-shape or zig-zag tiles form a lattice effect and are randomly interspersed with unique hand-painted designs in pinks, yellows and red by Alexis Teplin. It's a delight.

I wonder if these patterns depict something specific, or perhaps they form a whole image or design when placed together. 

The next two pics show the Cloth Street end (left) and then half-way back to Aldersgate Street looking across to The Barbican complex (right):

Nice. More about the project can me found on Fletcher Priest Architects site here. 

As I write this, I've just noticed that the City of London bollards that have been installed at both ends are not the same as the one that was at the Barbican end before the reconstruction of this site – the 'new' ones are a different shape and don't sport the coat of arms – see previous year here.

Here's the main entrance of the building which echoes the lattice zig-zag effect as panels set at an angle across the façade:

Here's hoping that the Museum of London building on the opposite side of the street (a sad loss imho) will be replaced with something similarly attractive. 

Some lovely tiled panels in Hornsey High Street have been lost to us

Here we go again. As I am often to be heard saying, nobody demolishes or changes something with the intent to upset us – they really do believe they are improving things. Bless em. 

But once it's gone, it's gone. I'm not asking that we keep everything, that would be daft, but when lovely hints of history that have hung on for over 100 years are suddenly removed and replaced with unsympathetic and often cheap products that surely themselves will not last 100 years, I get a little despondent.

In the last few months I have seen the demise of many lovely old shops fronts that have been stripped of their heritage and replaced with modern flat glass or plastic panels. I hate to point fingers, but I am going to, and not in an accusatory way. Having spoken to many of the owners of these buildings whether during or post-renovation I have often discovered that these people are in the most part from other countries, mainly Turkish, and they truly think that they are doing us a favour by removing what they consider to be dirty, old or as one man said "too much historical". They are not trying to upset us. They want spaces that are clean, modern, boxy and shiny, preferably in white, grey or black, perhaps with a bit of gold lettering added.

Last week I delivered one of my Janes London prints to a house in Hornsey, London N8, and I used the opportunity to investigate the local high street, remembering that when I'd gone through there on a bus one late dark evening earlier this year, I was convinced that I'd noticed some changes to an old shop front.

Yep. Sad to report that the only shop that retained its original floor-to-ceiling tiled walls has had a make-over – the two facing panels, either side of what was a recessed window, have been obliterated. On the day I visited there were too many parked cars in the way to take decent photos so these next pics are screengrabs from Google streetview – top 2022, middle 2023 and bottom 2024 (how it appears today):

Boo hoo. I loved those tiles. They were wonderfully mad, evoking OTT Victorian gin palaces and luxurious hotel lobbies. Much of 1890's North London is beautifully littered with entranceways that resemble tile shop catalogues, showing a variety of patterns that to the modern eye look like they don't belong in the same space – but the chaos works. 

Here's a selection of my own pics to show how the shop in question used to look:

Back in 2012 I wrote a specific blog post about the lovely tiles in this part London. Let's hope that they managed to chip off and sell the tiles and they weren't simply smashed and skipped.

When this terrace was constructed there were tiled pilasters between each shop at street shop – more of my own pics: 

Today, of the few tiled pilasters that remain, they covered in stickers or filth, obliterated by downpipes, or overpainted, whether fully or in half vertically – this is my side! 

The green plaque on the wall above the hairdressers is for David Grieg (1865-1952), grocer and local benefactor. I stood and wondered what he'd make of how this terrace looks today, indeed the whole street. 

Let's look at some other things... I backtracked to No.20 to take pics of the lower half of the gate which bears the name VIVA. I have no idea what sort of company this was, but I always like a bit of bespoke metalwork.

It seems to me that the high street here has changed very quickly in the past decade or so. There's been a change in the type of shops. I used to love going in the auction rooms (they were between the Tesco and the Three Compasses pub, ditto a couple of little antiques and bric-a-brac stores on the opposite side of the street. Many of the shops are today either empty or being revamped, complete with UPVC plate glass fronts. 

However, it's ice to see that, the ghostsign for J.Salmon the grocer is still clinging on, as is the little upholstery shop in the terrace adjacent to The Great Northern Railway Hotel 

An old sign for the Smithfield Refrigerator Works still hangs above the lane at the side of the pub, giving a glimpse towards The New River and a bygone world. Nice to end on an evocative image.

More on lost shop fronts here.

Feeling gloomy with Stephen Fry but uplifted by Hannah Rose Platt at The Hunterian Museum

Back in the day (as they say) I used to love popping into The Hunterian Museum at The Royal College of Surgeons in Lincoln's Inn Fields. I'd sometimes arrange to meet friends by Charles Byrne's very tall skeleton which formed a central focus to the exhibits that surrounded it. Here's how the main space looked back then, as shown in on this wikipedia page:

Image: Paul Dean (StoneColdCrazy), September 2007

In 2017 the museum closed for a refit and did not reopen until May 2023. I never like visiting places when they are full of visitors so I let the rush go and resolved to visit later that year. Wandering through the square one day in September, with an hour or so to spare before I met a friend in Covent Garden, I wandered in to have a look and see what had changed. 

They two ladies at the desk asked me if I had a ticket. No. Why would I need one – it's free.  It's timed entries, they said. Grunt. Covid-era rules still in place.

I lied and said I was only in London that day and I had made a special effort to get there. They suggested I wait for a slot. I hovered in the empty foyer for about ten minutes and watched about eight people dribble in. How ridiculous. I went over to the security fella at the entrance to the museum proper and said all I wanted to do was have a peek to see what had changed. Nope, sorry love, more than my job's worth.

Bonkers. It was clear there that there was barely anyone in there and those people who had registered for free tickets hadn't bothered showing up because it was such a nice day outside. I decided to make the best of that weather myself and instead went for a wander. 

I tried again another day in Spring 2024, hoping to just slip in when they weren't looking, but it wasn't possible. I'm a spur-of-the-moment follow-my-nose girl so it simply hasn't occurred to me to book a ticket in all this time. I mean, can't we just arrive and queue up as per John Soane's on the opposite side of the square?! Two years have whizzed by. 

On 16th April I booked a ticket for a concert within the Hunterian's library. Hannah Rose Platt performed songs from Fragile Creatures which is about women in history. It was an amazingly engaging performance and I will be reading more about those stories. The ticket included access to the museum before the gig.

Oh dear. Let's cut to the quick – I don't like it. I'm disappointed. 

On entering the first room there is a cabinet of all sorts and I completely missed an info panel because it's about A3 size and people must have been obscuring it. I only found it when I returned to the room later because I was convinced I had missed some vital information somewhere along the line. 

Like many things these days, the new modern look is grey and boxy, moody and gloomy. The narrow corridors are claustrophobic, like being in an underground maze. There are rows and rows of shelving interspersed a few side rooms that are easily missed. Some directional signage to these would be useful. 

Most of the displays look like a Damien Hirst installation*. 

Some headings here and there to explain the different sections or groupings would be of use. After all, most of us haven't a clue what we are looking at or why these things were of interest when they were collected. There's also scant info to explain what was learned from these specimens, who benefitted from the research going forward. 

A few interactive 'page-turning' displays don't make up for the lack of focal points now that Mr Byrne is no longer on show. I wasn't the only one who wandered into a side room, glanced around, pulled a puzzled face and walked out again. I did three laps convinced I had missed a turning or whole room or a display. Nope. I'd seen it all. 

But I did spot something that amused me. A group of four paintings includes one of Mr David Middleton (1705-1785) – I had to do a double-take because I thought it was Stephen Fry!

I might return to the museum with a friend who hasn't visited before to see what they think of it. Shall we book in advance or shall we try to just wander in when passing...?

*Update, Monday 27th April 2026: The above originally included a low-res photo of a range of fascinating human foetuses and another one of some rows of human skulls, further highlighting my comment that it was all a bit Damien Hirst. 

On the same day this post went live (Friday 24th) I received an email from the museum asking me to remove these images as it seems we are not allowed to take pics of human remains nor can we share them. I had not seen any ref of this when I was there or I would have written about how ridiculous this policy is, pandering to the easily offended (who would rarely visit an institution of this kind) rather than those of us with inquisitive minds. 

It's damage limitation. They are dumbing things down to appease a tiny minority. It's worth pointing out that kids these days can easily access scary movies and online porn yet they are being protected from scientific research.

Cannon lamp posts

Earlier this month I was busy googling info about St James's Square when this image on eBay cropped up in the search results. Here's a screen shot of that page in case the item is sold by the time you click on the link:

The image is dated 1933 and shows at the eastern corner of St James's Square at its junction with Charles II Street here where today an [electric] lamp post stands, the same design most of the others around the square.

Ooh ooh, I thought, I know I've seen a different photo of that lamp post somewhere else. But I couldn't recall where that was, nor could I find ref of it in my files. Hmm. I parked the idea and bookmarked the eBay link. 

Then, a few weeks later, whilst tidying up my ever-expanding collection of London books, I rediscovered and started re-reading H.V. Morton's book Ghosts of London, first published Nov 16th 1939. I love reading old books that contain recollections, observations and personal accounts of old London and this is one of my favourites. Chapter 11 is about gas lamps. Morton recounts time spent with one of the maintenance team who look after and light London's street lamps. The chapter includes a marvellous photo of what Morton is told is a unique cannon lamp post outside No.2 St James's Square, at that time the head office of Canada Life Insurance  – Aha! This is where I'd seen it! 

Morton's text continues... 

He was a brother of... Lord Falmouth. This ship played her part in the tremendous victory over the French off Cape Finisterre, and this London lamp post was one of the guns which she captured from the French. Boscawen presented it to his brother, and, when the gas lighting came in about sixty years later, the old cannon was used as the stand for the first gas light in front of Lord Falmouth's house (...) The lamp standard springs from the muzzle that once fired shot at Anson's squadron one hundred and eighty-eight years ago. 

But here's strange, the eBay image showing the post being removed is dated 1933. This surely cannot be correct if Morton is writing about it in the run up to Nov 1939. I very much doubt that it took him over  six years to complete.

But is it, was it, unique? I wonder if a clarifying word/element is missing in this claim, that this post design was the only one of its kind on a public highway. Because, a few days after rediscovering Morton's book, I happened to be wandering from Fleet Street to Lincoln's Inn Square and, as I entered the south side of New Square from Carey Street, I happened to notice what looked like a very similar silhouette ahead of me:

However, on closer inspection, I decided it was a modern replica – too new, too smooth, too perfect. Hmmm (my ponder word). I looked across the square and could see that there were many more of this design here and there, interspersed with fancier shapes and many of the lanterns are still gas-powered. I decided to walk clockwise around the square. 

This is the southern edge looking eastwards (left) and westwards (right) towards another cannon-shaped base which had an illuminated gas lantern at 5.30pm, followed by a similar one at the corner:

The western side includes a lamp base with faceted rings around it:

Further along I noticed that many of the cannon-shaped lamp bases sport the name BROXAP with the letters arranged vertically. So, yes, they are indeed newly-produced – it turns out the company makes 164 different types of bollard!

Hmmm (again), but why make the bases of some of these lamp posts resemble bollards? 

I have an idea... 

Almost at the NW corner there is another lamp with a cannon-shaped base but this one appears to be older. The metal is different, less new-looking, and it also has some ventilation holes drilled around the top band:

Could this particular lamp post be an original cannon base as per the one that was at St James's Square? Perhaps this is the last one left standing, where before there were many, and this one has been reproduced around the square. Note that this is a private square not a public highway, hence explaining why the St James's one is cited as being 'unique'..? If my hunch is true then there might be more of these things in the vicinity or within other inns of court or private squres.

How lovely to have all these things come together in the space of three weeks – the eBay listing, the book, the street furniture here.

There are many more lovely features in New Square so, before I end this post, lets just look at a few of them. There's some fabulous wisteria adorning the eastern side:

The date of the hall can be found within the brickwork of the building and there are impressive lamp posts and lanterns on the northern side of the square, almost regal in their design:

On the NE corner you'll find an excellent example of a Royal Mail post box complete with a directional sign pointing to a Post Office that used to be at the northern end of Chancery Lane. Today, the nearest POs are within the Rymans on Grays Inn Rd or on Aldwych

My work here is done. For now. 

Sad to see The Saloon sign in Kings Cross Road has been covered up.

I recently spotted that the old carved and gilded barbershop/hairdresser sign at 205 Kings Cross Road has been replaced with a modern plastic sign. I am disappointed to say the least.

Here are two images showing how it used to look. First my photos from 2008 when the sign was surrounded in bright blue paint (apologies for the low-res image – I can’t access my originals right now) followed by a Google streetview screengrab showing it in 2022:

But this is how it looks now, blending into its surroundings and looking like an extension to the shop next door:

Pics: Jane Parker, 20 April 2026

This old carved and gilded sign was a stop on my Kings Cross Ghostsigns guided tour. Whilst leading that tour in April 2024, two of the barbers came out to listen as I talked to my group about the sign-making process and who made this, as indicated by the name at the bottom right hand corner.

A conversation ensued. The barbers told us that they were planning to change the sign because they felt it didn't advertise their company, that 'The Saloon' made no sense, that potential customers didn't understand what was being offered. I/we responded that everyone in the area knew the sign as a local historic landmark and with the barber's pole and their own bright red A-frame signage outside they surely didn't need to change anything. We begged them not to change it. 

They pondered and then asked me if I knew a company that could repair the sign because the gilding within some of the letters has slipped. This is visible in the pic above. For me, the slippage is a bonus as it shows the handmade construction process. I gave them a few company names (which they didn't write down) as well as my business card, and told them to contact me for more info. I never heard from them. Going forward, every time I passed I rarely spotted any customers in there. 

They clearly blamed the old sign for their lack of business because, at some point in the last few months, they have had a new sign installed: 'King's Cross Stylist Barbers'. I have my fingers, toes and eyes crossed that these two sheets of printed plastic have been placed across the old sign which at least will protect it, for someone else to rediscover in the future. 

But I am at a loss how they think this new signage makes the shop look more attractive. Black black black (or charcoal grey) – it's everywhere these days. Grunt. People seem to think that a scripty font on black is all you need to appear stylish and upmarket. Nope. This example looks like it was designed by someone on an episode of The Apprentice! 

Here, the branding, for want of a better word, is dark and gloomy, looking more like a funeral parlour. They have also replaced the jolly red hanging sign with a similar funereal style. 

But here's intriguing... under the main name there is a secondary line that says, 'London - saloon Est.1989' – Eh? What? How? Who? 

I wonder if this is a typo and they actually mean Est.1889 because, as far as I can make out, there has been a similar business here/next door since at least 1895, when Albert Kretschman, hairdresser (a term that used to be applied to both men and women) had a shop at No.207 until 1915. I'm guessing that Albert moved into No.205 sometime after WW2 and this dates the sign to the early interwar era. Albert is gone by 1939 when the shop is listed as Jacob Lewis, watchmaker. Perhaps Lewis covered the sign with his own thus protecting The Saloon sign until it was revealed I know not when*

The frustrating thing is, the change of signage does not appear to have made a difference to their footfall here. When I popped back yesterday lunchtime to take the pics above the place was empty apart from one fella who was sat on one of the chairs opposite the mirrors and basins, scrolling on his phone. I assumed he was waiting to be attended to, but on reflection, I now think it was one of the barbers. Such a shame on many levels. 

Pic: Google streetview

*If you can add to the research or can remember this area of Kings Cross in the 1950s onwards I'd love to find out more. Please leave a comment or send an email: jane@janeslondon.com

If you enjoyed this, you might like to read about the loss of a grocery store in Tufnell Park and a couple of dairy shop fronts near Portobello Road and near Highbury Corner 

The Society of Portrait Sculptors' fab selling exhibition FACE2026 at The Garrison Chapel

The Garrison Chapel is a Grade II listed 1852 church nestled between Pimlico Road and Chelsea Barracks. No longer a working church – it has been converted into an exhibition space for The King's Foundation. The exterior spaces around the chapel have been recently renovated and remodelled – the whole area is well worth a visit.

The current show is Face2026 – ends 26th April – however, the guy on the desk told me when I was there on Saturday that there was still fortnight to go. Hmm. You'll need to double-check that. 

Here are some pics showcasing a diversity of mediums.

Yes, that's Maggi Hambling, looking very much like her own work, specifically her Oscar Wilde memorial behind St Martin in the Fields church! 

 

Nice to see some smiling faces for a change.
I particularly admired some of the wood carvings, especially top right above (Albert Kozak) and top right below (Jared Bartz), the latter carved with a chainsaw(!) – I happened to meet and speak to Jared who was also visiting on Saturday.

I also really liked a group of twelve small pieces comprising one work by Aleksandra Mazurkiewicz, shown above bottom left next to two close ups which highlight the texture and textiles applied here. I think they probably echo the Stations Of The Cross. The small semi-concealed face was possibly my favourite piece in the whole exhibition. 

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

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

Konrad Mägi's gorgeous paintings at Dulwich Picture Gallery

Those clever curators at Dulwich PG have done it again. This time, Kathleen Soriano (yes, it's that lady from Sky's Landscape/Portrait Artist of the Year shows) has curated a fabulous collection of Konrad Mägi's work, and I can see why she loves them!

I was at the press view prior to the exhibition opening on 24th March and it was a delight seeing and hearing Kathleen enthuse about Konrad colourful life and artworks. We also got to meet and hear from Kristina Ollek whose evocative pieces fill the mausoleum space at the centre.

Konrad's work, especially his Baltic and Finnish, landscapes look like textile designs. There's definitely a hint of Klimt in there. His patterns, brushwork and colours is inspirational.

I'm here showing cropped sections of the paintings rather the full works: 

His portraits are absolutely gorgeous. Stylised Jazz Age sitters with big eyes and fulsome lips, mostly staring off into the distance and not looking at all jolly.

The last six pics show a selection of lovely lips and some smaller works. 

Finally, here are some pics I took of Kristina's creations:

A really good show – on until 12th July. Easily accessible by train or the P4 bus (Lewisham to Brixton) which stops right outside the gallery gate.