The "restoration" of an Art Deco era Burton's store

Montague Burton, the tailor of taste. But, imho, not so tasteful these days on Long Eaton High Street.

I have just been alerted to the "restoration" of a Burton's store in Derbyshire. I know this isn't in London, but I fear this type of thing is likely to happen on similar sites here in the capital. Ugh – paint it black strikes again!

I'm here stealing/copying the pics from the link above to show the before and after, though the first pic looks to be from Google streetview anyway:

Hmmm... me no likey – Burton’s 1930's façade had survived, complete with the Burton logo at the top, for almost 100 years. Yet, rather than remove a layer of stone-coloured paint (see close-up below) and give it the Portland stonework a gentle clean, they've instead sloshed black and white paint all over it. I am not sure where the £10,000 has been spent. I notice that their second pic is captioned 'Burtons building revamped' which better describes what's happened here. 

OK, so they’ve installed some [fake?] windows, but it would never have looked like this back in the 1920s – hence, this is not a ‘restoration’.

They say that the building looked messy before – I say this was exacerbated by the mix of shops at street level, two of which had with ugly modern signage which, we can see, haven't been upgraded since the renovation. 

This next pic is Google streetview from 2022:

It shows that the building at that time retained a reduced but empty Burton store with serif letters on a red panel. Look closely to see that there's also a ghostly repeat of the 1920's logo within the black fascia above the phone shop, echoing the carved company logo at the very top of the building which would have been red. Here's a close up which also shows peeling paint and boarded windows, now revealed (or rendered?):

An alternative view shows that some lovely architectural details were also in place 2022, specifically, a branded metal ventilation grille at the curved end...

...and a foundation stone at the left corner showing that Stanley Howard Burton was one of the family present at the opening ceremony in 1935:

Burton made sure that family members personally attended the opening of each new store. Three more foundation stones can be found at this site – one at centre front next to the door to the phone shop showing Arnold James Burton was also in attendance and two more round the side flanking the entrance to Chalkie's snooker hall – one shows Lady Montague Burton, but the parked car obscures the one on the left side of the door and, possibly, another metal ventilation grille. 

I’m interested to see how much of the old Burton’s store is still in place today – perhaps, some tiles, mosaics or terrazzo are also to be found.

Back to the black – I’m befuddled how/why the decision was made to paint the building such a stark shade – it surely now stands out like a funereal eyesore rather than an elegant reminder of a bygone age…?

More about Burtons here. 

A visit to William Booth Memorial Training College, Champion Park, Denmark Hill

Earlier this year I joined a group tour of the buildings and grounds that make up the Salvation Army training college opposite Denmark Hill station. For me, this visit was well overdue as I’ve been meaning to find out what’s beyond the impressive foyer for many years now. Whenever I’ve been in the vicinity before it’s been on days when the library and museum are closed to the public.  I am particularly interested because this is a Giles Gilbert Scott design and, since 2020, I have been researching the man, visiting his buildings and hosting talks and in-person presentations about him.

Constructed 1928-32, GGS's style is evident within many of the architectural elements here, such as the tower and brickwork patterns which echo similar features at Liverpool Cathedral, Cambridge University Library and Bankside power station.

However, I think elements of this development, especially the station-facing façade, was steered by the Sally Army guys who, I've noticed, rather preferred a showy-offy kind of style to Giles's less is more approach. You need only to check out some of their small town citadels, masquerading as castles and fortresses, to see what I mean. Here at Champion Park we see OTT ecclesiastical embellishments at high level and windows that look rather disproportionate as if they were enlarged after the design was approved. Indeed, the building opened in 1929 before it was finished.  

For some reason I did not take pics of the foyer during this visit. The tour started in the library and we were taken to the upper floors via a gorgeous Hollywood Deco style staircase to the museum.  As you can see, the stairs wrap around a lovely old cage elevator/lift.

The stairs on the upper floors afforded views of the meditative walking maze/spiral within the grass at the rear, which is barely discernible from ground level. I love a maze. There's a similar one at the southern end of Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park and another within a council estate near Olympia.

I really like the stripey carpet and the berry colours echoed on the chairs.

We walked around the gated grounds, which resembles a small village, and we were shown inside some of the living quarters which, although compact, are now bigger than the tiny cell-like spaces that were part of the original design.  

It was here that I spotted at my feet a man hole cover with wood blocks within some of the segments – ooh, another one to add to the A-Z of Woodblocks 

I surmised that the college must have been built on what had previously been Victorian streets but I now see that doesn't appear to be the case, as is evident by the maps available here on Southwark Council's site. As you can see by the snippet below of Kelly & Co's map, c1888, there were no other streets between Champion Park and Champion Grove. Indeed, later folding maps I have to hand here show the same empty space into the 1940s, well after the college was built.

Hmmm... we have two options – either the man hole cover plate was imprted from somewhere else, or this area of Champion Park might have previously been part of a private business that used many horses and carts. The wood block surface would have kept the clippety-clop and carting and clanking noises to a minimum so as not to upset the well-to-do residents living in Champion Grove and the 1840's paired villas along Grove Lane. Any further info welcome. 

FYI, 'champion' has nothing to do with winners or vinegar – we should be pronouncing it with a french accent because the area is named after Sir Claude Champion de Crespigny, a Huguenot refugee who, in 1717, built Champion Lodge on his 30-acre estate here.    

A private tour inside Lambeth Fire Station, London Fire Brigade's Art Deco HQ

A few years back I was lucky to be invited inside the former London Fire Brigade HQ on Albert Embankment designed by EP Wheeler, embellished with works by Bayes and Babb. 

This opportunity had come about during a Zoom chat after my online talk about demolished London Art Deco buildings when Peter Rickard, a fireman at LFB who was sometimes stationed at the Lambeth building, asked me if I'd like to visit the interior. Er... yes please!

I apologise for taking so long to write this up, my excuse being that I wanted to tie it in with any news about the building going forward. I simply let the idea slip until now because the LFB recently announced that their museum will be reinstated at Lambeth. Phew! Ian wrote about it here. However, I am still unaware what will happen to the upper floors.

On 9th March 2021 I arrived at this Grade II listed building camera in hand to meet Peter. I think he was concerned about what was going happen to this magnificent building and was pleased to find a kindred spirit. I'd only once before ever been inside, restricted to the gorgeous foyer area to see the sculptural pieces, memorials and suchlike during what I guess what an Open House Weekend many moons ago. Though I do recall a small museum and information panels in that space. 

Peter led me at first across the floor where the fire engines are kept, stopping to say hello to the working staff, past staircases with marvellous Art Deco railings to another set of stairs and up to the areas used as offices and for recreation.

The octagonal shaped room is on the rear of the building overlooking the car park and inside it has the feel of being on a boat or, due to those tropical plants and linear balconies, at a run down Mediterranean holiday hotel.

A test dummy on the floor below made it look as if someone didn't enjoy their holiday!

The building is huge and contains many rooms but at the time of visiting only a small percentage were in active use as offices. Narrow corridors on the eight levels lead to what were offices, living spaces, shower rooms, and communal/recreation rooms with fabulous views across and along the Thames.

I now cannot recall if Peter said that firemen ever stay overnight now, but there is evidence that this was the case in years gone by, just check out one of the groovy bathrooms. What was that beige colour called?

Much of the building, especially on the upper floors, was clearly suffering from damp and water ingress, and many window frames were rusty. It's clear the utilities are mostly out of date, ditto the sanitaryware. Old coloured bathroom suites sell for decent money on eBay and reclamation sites like these days, so I hope when they do start renovations that the don't just dump it all.

A later extension at the rear (1980s?) – the interior looked like a film crew had just left the building. 

I wonder what's to become of all the empty and unused rooms? 

This facility had previously housed hundreds firemen and many more vehicles but today is only partly in use with many areas, especially on the upper floors, in dire need of more than a little love and affection.  There's a lot of general wear and tear to attend to, let along an upgrade of necessities.

What do you do with a building this size? 

It could be converted into a hotel or a hostel perhaps, but the amount of renovation and repairs needed to make it fit for purpose would be restrictive to say the least.

Any news/updates most welcome.

I'll write about the exterior separately another day but it might take me 5 years to get there!

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. 

Art Deco: the golden age of poster design at The London Transport Museum

A colourful new exhibition opens today at The London Transport Museum in Covent Garden displaying over 100 posters from the 1920s and 1930s interspersed with physical items, products and other printed ephemera.

The exhibition starts with a short overview about 'Art Deco' and a selection of what's to come. It shows how simple lines and clear sans serif typefaces were implemented to advertise leisure, travel and industry... 

I particularly like that many of the posters are signed by the artist and also bear the name of the company that printed them. 

We see how commercial artists of the 1920s and 30s created engaging visuals that would tempt people to use the London Transport, whether to access West End shops or theatres, dance venues, London Zoo or the parks. It's wonderful to see the range of different artistic styles. Some posters are cubist, others illustrative many are geometrical as per the Season Tickets 'lightning bolt' above.

A couple of posters make a point of how the tube is better than the unmentioned buses and trams because you won't get wet when it rains and it's cooler in the summer. This simple design style was also implemented on UK travel guides and maps.

The poster titled 'Hearing the riches of London' used as the main promo image for this exhibition is a strange choice. It features a coquettish lady wearing hair grips in the style of the London Underground roundel. 

This poster is interesting because it's the original illustration rather than a printed poster, as is evident by the scamped-in logo on the hair grips as 'UxxxD' indicating where the printer should place a pre-made printed logo. It's also likely that the lines indicated either side of the outlined logo at the bottom indicate where explanatory text can be inserted, and I suspect that another word would have later been added on the arched section where dancers and party people are depicted in two-tone red. Perhaps she's going to listen and dance to some syncopated jazz at the Hammersmith Palais?  Hence the use of the word 'Hearing' in the poster.

Another poster that intrigues me is the one shown above right, intended to show how convenient it is to get from the Underground to the theatre although the message is not immediately evident. It looks rather creepy, but I love it – a top hatted man us rising from below to meet a green-coated lady to see a stage production, although it appears to indicate that lift takes you directly from station platform to the stalls.

As well as the posters here are some good exhibits on show. Here just a few of them that particularly relate to dressing up, going out and dancing: 

Other posters show how easy it was to make rail connections for days out further afield such as Southend, the South Coast and Henley. Incidentally, in most cases, the captions accompanying most of the posters simply describe what we are looking at. I'd have like to have learned more about the artists who designed them. 

The lower level is accessed via a spiral staircase. At the bottom there's a big blank burgundy wall but no info to explain this next section, or any indication which way to turn. Next the the stairs is the most confusing poster in the whole exhibition which, after a while, I managed to decipher was also about getting speedily to the theatre (what's it doing down here?). 

I noticed that there was an even lower level, so I continued down the spiral stairs to find that it merely leads to a door that takes you back to the main museum. Hmm. Signage needed. 

So I re-climbed the stairs and discovered the introductory information panel for this floor is installed a few metres to the left, which you might not notice if you happen to turn right and go clockwise round this floor as there is also no directional.  

But hey, it turns out that the lower level is very interesting as it shows a varied collection of other examples of how the 'Art Deco'* style has been implemented elsewhere, including the Clarks shoes leaflet shown above, 1960's designs and posters featuring 1980's RetroDeco/PoMo architecture. 

The ads for motoring events at Olympia are graphically pleasing and include one that, again, is an original illustration, a preliminary design achieved probably in gouache that also includes an indicated UxxxD logo. The artist's pencil marks are clearly visible across the whole piece, as is his hand-written mark at bottom left, "lettering only roughed in" – I love this – it takes me back to my first jobs working at design and advertising studios when artworks of this kind were commonplace in a world of lick and stick, Rotring pens and Cow Gum.

This lower floor leads to the exit doors and raises another question about the spiral staircase. It occurs to me that wheelchair users or people with mobility issues might have a problem moving between floors within the exhibition. I'm assuming this second level can be accessed by exiting exhibition at the main door and using the lift/escalator to access the the lower floor, and re-entering via this door (which I assume will be staffed, as surely they want people to see the exhibition in the order it has been designed) but it would mean that they would then see the most recent deco-inspired exhibits first:

Which brings me onto my final observation. It concerns the image shown above right of a video that explains the whole show and the beginnings of this design style, yet it's installed on the lower floor next to a panel headed 'Legacy' which starts off by telling us that Art Deco* died (eh?).

Why oh why oh why is this movie not near the main entrance explaining what we are about to see? Instead, on entering the space, looking to the left and right (repeating the pair of images from above)...

... we see lots of things crammed in, more jumbled than any other area of the whole exhibition, as if they kept adding things as afterthoughts. 

But where could they squeeze in the video screen here? As you can see, the overview/welcome text is squeezed into the corner looking like a late addition. The text lacks basic information about the 'Art Deco' era, the hows and whys, and I was surprised to find that key points, such as where the term derives from, is buried within captions under other items on the left hand side. But not everyone reads all the captions like I do!

So, in conclusion, as an 'Art Deco' fan, there are lots and lots of lovely things to see and admire, but even though I knew what I was looking at I was often confused. As a graphic designer/typographer who has worked on many print and events projects, particularly on signage and wayfinding, the key thing should always be to design for the customer/visitor who is new to the environment or subject, making the information clear, obvious and easy to understand.

Unfortunately there is no way to see this exhibition than as part of a visit to the museum. Prices here. However, your ticket lasts a year and you can visit as many times as you want to at no extra charge. 

I know lots of people who would love to see these posters but will not visit due to the price, perhaps having no interest in the rest of the museum or they've seen it all before. I really think it's about time that the LT Museum considered installing a stand-alone small exhibition/event space adjacent to the shop, similarly accessible to all without accessing the museum.

Finally – It's November and it's very cold inside the museum , after all, it's a huge shed. Basically, whatever you are wearing outside, you will need to be wearing it in the museum. 

*I prefer to use initial caps for art deco. and I usually write in quotes as per 'Art Deco' because it's a retrospective woolly term. There doesn't appear to be a set style guide

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.