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.

London's architectural icons

'Icon' and 'iconic' are often-repeated words these days, usually used to describe new buildings that are very tall and shouty – ooh look at me... try avoiding me! Often the word is applied before the building is completed; it will be the biggest/tallest/pointiest/greenest/glassiest/etc

Perhaps the developers are using the word in the sense of those religious icons you can buy in the backstreets of Naples; the ones you add to a shrine or put on your mantlepiece? In which case those little souvenirs of The Eiffel Tower would fit the bill if architecture was your god of choice.

In the same way as a community can't just be created by bulldozing streets of small houses and putting up tower blocks with chain restaurants and homogenous coffee bars on the ground floor, I think icons, in the sense of architecture, are made over time and thus earn their iconic label.

I wrote about Centrepoint last year and it features in the ten pics below of London landmarks I believe have become iconic – tall, sometimes inspiring, structures that have become mostly well-loved points of reference; some as landmarks, others as architectural statements. 

This doesn't need captioning; these structures ought to be easily-identified by any Londoner

Holland House in The City

Continuing on from last Thursday's post...

Holland House, 1-4 Bury Street, London EC3A 5AT.
This was the first steel framed buildingto be constructed in in Europe and ooh... I love it...
One hundred years ago, who'd have known that the windows on this beautifully-designed office building would one day reflect one of The City's most iconic glass buildings...?

Holland House was built during WW1. It was designed by the Dutch architect H. P. Berlage for the Rotterdam-based William H Müller & Co; a shipping and ore-mining company working out of Spain and North Africa – this is is shown by the wonderful stylised granite sculpture by J Mendes Da Costa of a ship powering through the waves on the rear corner of the building opposite Cunard Place.

These four pics show details of the lobby/reception area at the front of the building designed in the Art Deco style by Bart Van Der Leck featuring fabulous tiles, mosaics, metalwork and lighting.
Apart from a lovely art deco staircase leading down to the basement, the entrance at the rear has not retained the original features, and looks really bland in comparison.

The whole building is clad in hand-made dark eau-de-nil coloured tiles. I love the way the windows are obliterated when one walks along the pavement; only the columns of tiles can be seen, making a wonderful geometric pattern. 

Pic2 shows a glimpse of the mahogany panelled offices on the first floor using wood reclaimed/stripped from Muller's ships.

At the rear (pic3) there are some lovely balconied tiers.

More pics and info here.

See also Summit House on Red Lion Square – built a few years later in a similar style – solid, beautiful functionality and classic no-messing design.

Art In The City, St Mary Axe and The Gherkin

Last weekend I finally found time to go and see [most of] the art installations in and around The Gherkin At St Mary Axe.

Ai Weiwei's bicycle rack and Damien Hirst's donation's box

Tomoaki Suzuki's little people and Keita Miyazaki's car parts.

I was also interested by other things that were not part of the trail; a sobbing woman near the air filters and a drain full of fag ends in Lime Street.

Near the Hirst piece a bollard made from a cannon can be found.

Every time I visit the Gherkin, love it as I do, after all, it may be the only truly beautiful and beautifully designed glass structure made in the past twenty years, I am always distracted by the rhythmic solidarity of Holland House across the road in Bury Street.
But I will save that for another day...

It's here, it's there, it's every bloody where

I recently went for a walk around the Fenchurch Street area of the City, popping into churches, investigating little streets and alleys and admiring old buildings and their interesting details.
But that bloody Walkie Talkie loomed over me from almost everywhere.
As you are probably well aware from my previous posts, I am not a fan of all this heavy-handed steel and glass architecture (see here and here) that's sprouting up like some kind of instant Dubaiification.
The Pointy Thing at London Bridge is just a greenhouse that tapers towards the top, and conversely, though similarly, 20 Fenchurch Street is just a tower block that flares out at the top but has the added bonus of being able to fry eggs and melt cars.

As viewed from Blackfriars, from Potters Fields near Tower Bridge, from the northern end of London Bridge, and from Rood Lane EC3.

As viewed from Eastcheap/Philpot Lane (x2), and from the eastern end of Fenchurch Street. The last pic shows it at street level illustrating how truly unimaginative this building is – just compare it to the considered old architecture on the corner of Philpot Lane.

I wandered into Mincing Lane and found a relatively new pedestrian street opposite the Disneyland-style castle and prancing ponies of Minster Court (ugh!). 
Plantation Lane forms part of the huge Plantation Place development (but check out Google maps and zoom in to notice that the road name on the street sign has been erased – why?). The street narrows as it goes westwards towards Rood Lane. The only reason I didn't get agitated by being hemmed in by even more bullying glass is because I was distracted and intrigued by the pavement which is natural stone embedded with lines of names, words and phrases linking to London. Great to spot some wonderful old street names there ;-)

The pavement along Plantation Lane. At the Rood Lane end of the street I took the chance to capture some convergence images illustrating the diverse architecture. 

The City of London will never be finished. It is constantly evolving. Yet it seems to me that there has been a greater percentage of building/development per square metre in the last ten years than in the last 500. I appreciate that we live in a different world these days, with different needs and demands, but what I cannot fathom is the extent and size of these things, especially when so many old buildings stand empty and many finished buildings of similar size are not yet anywhere near reaching full occupancy.

Immediate plans for The City

Read more about this here.

David Edward's idea of what's in store for the future

Read more about the future here.

The Barbican

Is anyone else still getting lost in the Barbican? Or is it just me?

I find it hard to get in and out of the complex (ha ha!), or from one side of the lake terrace to the other side without going ever so slightly mad. Where are the signs?! In many cases you have to up and over rather than down and across, and this is just not made clear. The only thing to "help" are those 50mm colour coded lines on the pavement that you are intended to follow. It's like a human game of Super Mario. 

(The general area – info re pics at the bottom) 

Even inside the arts centre itself I can go missing for hours trying to find the toilets, an event space or a cinema. 

But it's always worth the frustration in the end. 

A few years ago I went to an seminar on an upper floor and discovered a fantastic garden adjacent an exhibition space. I had no idea until that day that those spaces existed. 

There's always a lot going on at the Barbican, especially this month, so it's worth unearthing your compass and other orienteering paraphernalia to make the assault on the building – be sure to plan ahead and consult the latest OS maps or Google Satelitte. 

It's a fabulous environment to see a theatre production, or a film, and there are usually interesting exhibitions on the various levels. It's also a lovely place to meet friends for a drink, or make use of the wonderful spaces that are perfect for just sitting, reading, working or relaxing. 

Also, on at the Barbican at the moment – the foyers are being turned into a pop-up designer-makers market selling all sorts of gorgeous hand-made products. Wednesday–Sunday every week until 22nd December. More information here.

The bottom row of photos includes CLE,1969, a pre-1966 telephone code. This is one of two still visible on shops in Goswell Road (CLE was the old code for Clerkenwell). The third photo in that row shows a section of the Blitz-flattened (now Barbican) site in 1942 (taken from a building in Little Moorfields by Police Constables Arthur Cross and Fred Tibbs – more of their photos from this period can be found at The London Metropolitan Archives.)

That pointy thing called the Shard

Those of you who have read some of my previous posts will be aware that I am not a fan of that monstrous glass building at London Bridge. I think it's bullying "look at me; I'm really big!" architecture with no flair or design.
With all the empty office space available in Central London I am concerned about all the new build. The Dubaiification of London. And I am fed up with all the unnecessary competition between cities around the world to have the tallest "iconic" building. In most cases the measured height is, to me rather daft as it includes the aerials on the top. If I wear a stovepipe hat does that mean I am 6ft 2?!
A couple of weeks ago there was an article in The Times (Saturday July 6th) reporting that the Shard is failing in its attempt to sell the space within it. The Times reports that the 25 floors of office space are as empty as they were 12 months ago with only 10% being leased. The location is being cited as a reason; London Bridge is not The City, where other big buildings with silly names situtaed in the Square Mile are managing to sell their space.
The article goes on to quote Irvine Sellar, the Shard's developer, who seems to be cherry-picking his tenants. He cites this as a reason for the empty floors and rationalises, "...we are taking our time... we don't want to fill the Shard up with accountants or lawyers". He goes on, "...we are going to have asset managers, energy companies, lawyers and many more. We want a broad mix".
I very much doubt that is the reason at all. Location probably does play a part, but I think the lack of uptake is mostly down to the fantastically high maintenance charges; the window cleaning alone is estimated at £150,000 a year, plus rates on the empty offices need to be paid for before they are leased, and electricity has to be block-purchased in advance. Cleaning and security for the building could cost as much as £9million a year once it is fully let.
So, they must have thought long and hard about how to bring in big dosh for  little outlay.... hmmm... let's think... Yes! viewing platforms. Incidentally, I don't like the word "platforms" in this instance. Bad word. Why not galleries, floors or levels?
They call it "The View" and on Saturday 13th July I went to see it for myself. My very generous friend paid £24.99 each for four of us. TWENTY FIVE QUID!!! That's the pre-booking price. If you buy your ticket on the day it goes up to £29.99.
OK here goes... hold on to your hat... this is what you get for £25...

• On arriving we were informed that there are no toilets on the viewing levels and were directed to the ones adjacent to the booking hall; an area that is awash with CGI on large screens and colourful technology. Opening the door to the Ladies we entered a service corridor with whitewashed breeze block walls. There were loose wires and duct-taped pipes. Inside it was obvious that this was usually used by staff or gym users as we saw lockers in there. A temporary sign on A4 copy paper apologised, explaining that new toilets are currently being built for Guest use. This building has been open to the public for almost a year now and they haven't made the toilets? Is £25 a reduced rate due to this? Or, will the price go up when the toilets are finally open? 
• So, why are there no toilets on or near the viewing levels? What happens if someone is taken short or feels dizzy/sick? Are people expected to get in the lift again, go all the way through the gift shop, past the booking desks and relieve themselves only to find that they (probably) aren't allowed back up again? I am sure there must be toilet facilities on the restaurant floors but viewing-only plebs aren't allowed to mix with high-paying foodies. 
• There is nowhere to sit on the viewing platforms. Not everyone is happy standing, or sitting on the floor. Many people, especially those who are tired, dizzy, disabled, old or infirm would benefit from some simple benches where they can rest for 5 minutes as in art galleries. There is ample space all around the inner wood-panelled wall where these could be added. I believe there are two reasons for their non-existence: 1) it stops people staying up there too long, and, 2) the Shard was never designed to have viewing platforms in the first instance or they would have designed it better. 
• So it ought to go without saying that there are no refreshment opportunities up there either.
• Why no glass floors? A huge opportunity has been missed here. Especially as the building is clad in glass. There are perfect places in recessed areas where glass-floored panels could have been included (such as in Auckland's Sky Tower in and many others). But, again, I think this is for the same reasons as the lack of seating.
• Don't look up because the ceilings of the viewing platforms are an ugly mess. There are hanging wires and pipes clad in silver foil with stickers on them, plus metal fixings and plates that I think ought not to be seen. It looks so out of place with the simplicity of the wooden floors and walls. 
• When we were there we commented how daft it was that the only way to identify the buildings in the distance was to use one of the computerised viewing machines. We wondered why they hadn't put information about the major landmarks onto the windows or on a rail in front of us. It wasn't until I got home and looked at my photos that I noticed that there is a legend there, but it is situated above everyone's heads!! How utterly daft. You have to step back from the glass to see it. Another afterthought?
• On the ground floor, on the way in between security checks and the lift you can have your photo taken against a simulated image of the Shard. As per The London DUNG-eon and all other rip-off tourist attractions of this kind, the prints are an extra charge. Did I mention the tickets for The View at Shard are £25?
• The lifts are rather disappointing. Considering they are being touted for their high speed you don't get a visual sense of this at all. You stand there in a dark blue box looking up at some computer generated whizzy lines on the ceiling. Couldn't they have filmed the journey to the top of the Shard from the roof of the lift and put that up on the ceiling so we had the feeling of heading skyward? This seems too obvious a trick to have missed.

To conclude, I believe due to their lack of facilities, the viewing platforms are an afterthought to the conceived design of the building. I think the developers really thought companies would have been snapping up the office space off-plan before the building was completed.
The exorbitant minimum ticket price of £24.99 for what is just a trip in two lifts with a view at the top and not a lot else, is to help with those cleaning bills.
Mind you, I suppose comparing time:money it does work out cheaper than a trip on the London Eye (£17.28 for half an hour) because you can stay up in the Shard as long as you want. I am not sure if you can take your own food and drink up there, but don't take too much because the toilets are 69/72 floors away (they include the landings on the stairs as two floors!)
Oh, one more thing that nags at me; the location is called London Bridge Quarter. A quarter of what? Does the Shard take up 25% of the whole of the whole London Bridge area? What are the other three quarters called? Answers here please.

"This article has been written to recognise the author's contribution to travel and tourism by Avis Car Hire on the A-List Awards 2013".