Shoreditch – powerful architecture, marvellous metal and a helping hand

This actually follows on from this piece I wrote on my Substack – I continued my walk westwards from Norton Folgate towards City Road, entering this part of old Shoreditch at Worship Street.

Many years ago I recall being disappointed that the magnificent box girder bridge over the railway in Worship Street, used as a location in many movies as a prostitute pick-up zone, had been removed a couple of days before I had planned to go and photograph it for London The Way We See It*, a website set up by dicksdaily who nominated a street each week and we'd have fortnight to go and take photographs, then load up a max of three. It was a wonderful way to see different perspectives.

The bridge was later reinstated, and further along the street what looks like the love child of Nefertiti and Ming the Merciless appeared:.

I love it – look at those tapering corner columns, so redolent of Egyptian temple architecture, and the futuristic spaceship vibe, as if any second it might do a vertical take-off! It's actually the charging station for the loading bay mechanism next to it, allowing heavy items to be transported to the railway lines and platforms below.

I turned left into Curtain Road. The Horse & Groom pub is probably one of the oldest structures remaining on this section of the street. It's worth a visit for it's wood panelled interior, but be sure to check out the artwork and signage on the side:

As you can see, the large red letters show that here was a service station/petrol garage here back in the 1950s, indeed probably pre-that too – I'm judging by the type style here, I can't be bothered to research absolutely everything I write about unless it ends up being part of a guided tour!

Lower down on the wall someone has added some info about the QE1-era Curtain Theatre that used to be in the area behind the pub. I visited the site back in, ooh, er, about ten years ago when archaeologists were busy looking for clues and artefacts. I recall being really fed up that day which is possibly why I didn't take any photos let alone write about it on this blog.  Ah – found it in Londonist.

Then, via a few zig-zags, to the junction of Leonard Street and Paul Street where there is a building I have been watching for many years. Ironically, it's called Development House, which is amusing because it has been in a state of nothingness for many years, accessed only by graffiti artists. 

But it's the sculptural piece that adorns it. that I'm interested in.

The artwork It depicts two men scaling the building and reaching for a third person to join them. I wonder if another companion piece was originally installed in the gardens below...?**  

I have, on many occasions, tried to find out who created this marvellous artwork as I cannot see any marks that could be names on it – perhaps someone else with a better zoom lens can help me here. A visit to RIBA library would be helpful but it's gonna be closed for while yet. 

A proposed development was planned for here, due to be completed in 2022. But it now looks as if demolition has been shelved because the interior is currently available for rent, having been 'freshly refurbished' so perhaps the building and the sculpture is here to stay for the foreseeable future. 

I wonder if the change in plans has anything to do with the gaping great hole on the north side of Development House which has looked like this for as long as I care to remember:

Let's end on one my other favourite details in this area... from the open air basement car park, head northwards along Tabernacle Street and then turn left into Singer Street. A few paces in on the left side there is a gateway leading to the rear. I find it wonderfully uplifting that, even though the ground floor has clearly be refitted, they retained the gorgeous bit of fancy Victorian metalwork for Nos 5, 6 & 7.

 

*having just googled LTWWSI, I discover that top of the list is a project of the same name by Bob Marsden.  I think this might be the same Bob Marsden that I got chatting to a couple of years ago in Victoria Embankment Gardens where we were both admiring the military statuary and we have been following each other ever since. If it is indeed the very same BM, he's a lovely fella. 

** This reminds that there is another sculpture on a late C20th building that I need to find out about here on the side of 1 Putney Bridge Approach which is more abstract in form. 

Kensington Gore – hot and cold and nine miles from Hounslow

Lowther Lodge, is a lovely GII* red brick building at 1 Kensington Gore, facing Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens as seen here. The house was built in the 1870s for William Lowther, MP, designed by architect Richard Norman Shaw who is also responsible for the Bedford Park Estate adjacent to Turnham Green. 

In 1912, Lowther Lodge was sold to the Royal Geographical Society and, over subsequent decades, the property was extended to include a library, a lecture theatre, offices and other facilities. One distinctive addition is the hall/meeting room at the junction with the Exhibition Road which is adorned with many things that please me – a distance marker, a bench mark, two statues and some street names.  

First, the white metal sign, dated 1911, showing the distances East to Hyde Park Corner and West to Hounslow. This has always intrigued me because I doubted that Hyde Park was a full mile away, but having now checked using my trusty string and wall map I can confirm it as a fact. Similarly, the marker that sits further up the road outside The Milestone Hotel is definitely half a mile away. 

This heavy metal information post is quite amusing as regards its details which have been crudely enhanced in black paint, making the lion and the unicorn appear as comedy cartoon characters and the manicules look more like random blobs rather than elegant pointing hands.

Marks on the bricks indicate that it used to be attached to the wall. Indeed, the oblique view confirms that there is a 4"/10cm gap. 

To the right of the mile-marker (surely it's not a milestone if it's not made of stone?) there is a little vertical rectangle of verdigri'd metal. Look closely and see "OS, BM, 0931, S" and a 3-line motif:

This is an Ordinance Survey Bench Mark used by surveyors to calculate heights above sea level. More about these here. 

On the other side of the mile-marker there looms a marvellous statue of David Livingstone, explorer, missionary, writer and medic:

This is the work of Thomas Bayliss Huxley-Jones, a prolific and popular artist whose work adorns many public places in London, including the Joy of Life fountain across the road within Hyde Park. 

Mr Livingstone was unveiled on 23rd October 1953. It 'pairs' with the earlier statue of Sir Ernest Shackleton that was installed in 1932 on the East side of the building in Exhibition Road: 

Shackleton, complete with thick fluffy boots and mittens, is the work of Charles Sarjeant Jagger whose most famous work is probably the Royal Artillery Memorial (1935) at Hyde Park Corner (which we know is one mile away!).

Finally, the lovely carved street signs – I wonder if these also came from Jagger's studio:

I'm told that London cabbies call this location 'Hot & Cold' due to the climates that these two intrepid gentlemen explored..!

Sir George Peabody and Paul Julius Baron Von Reuter – marvellous memorials

I wrote recently about the shops around the exterior of the Royal Exchange and their lovely architectural details. The pedestrianised street that runs along the eastern side offers plenty more to feast your eyes on. Here you'll find gorgeous Victorian street furniture, such as bollards and benches and lamp posts that contain some of the few surviving gas-powered lanterns in the City of London* as well as some K6 phone boxes and, along the buildings on the eastern side facing the exchange building, there are some delightful metalwork panels at low level that depict four hands gripped together – I always think of The Musketeers when I see these; all for one and one for all! 

There are also some excellently-achieved sculptural works to be found here, commemorating two men who had a huge impact on The City and beyond. 

George Peabody was a much loved and well respected businessman and philanthropist. He sits comfortably in his chair staring across Threadneedle Street and, I like to think, into the middle distance, to where the first of his housing estates was constructed in Islington**. Look closely around the base of the plinth to see the names of the people who made this piece:

William Wetmore Story was an American sculptor and Ferdinand von Miller of Munich was also a sculptor in his own right but here he simply casted Story's work as it is not listed as one of his achievements here.   

At the centre of the street, there is different style of memorial created a little over 100 years later. The bust of Paul Julius Reuter has to be one of my favourites in The City due to the mass of justified letterform at lower level echoing the marks at Cornhill.  

Michael Black's informative piece was installed here in 1976. More information and other works here. 

PJBVReuter created the news agency whose Grade II HQ building designed by Lutyens, sits at 85 Fleet Street, currently adjacent to a huge hole where major redevelopment is underway. But I digress...!

*I have yet to finish my coherent history of this form of street lighting (having found that much of the info available is confusing and often contracting in 'fact') – when I finally stop adding and amending to it I will make it live so that I can directt people to it after they attend my walking tours on the subject. 

** Find out more on my 'Look At The Estate We're In' guided walking tour – see here for more

Public Art in The City of London – Sara Barker at Angel Court

Angel Court echoes an ancient path that today links Throgmorton Street to Copthall Avenue between high-rise glass office buildings. During Lockdown, whilst wandering the City of London's quiet streets on a hunt for works made by women (working title: Formed by Females*) I tracked down two metalwork sculptures created by Sara Barker in 2017. 

Earlier this month I revisited these works and took these photos. First, 'Selvedge With Dark' at the Throgmorton Street end. I really like the subtle interplay of the overlaid flat mesh panels. I am a sucker for a grid pattern.

At the other end of Angel Court, high of the wall is this piece called 'Last of Light (Three Needles)' which references the old name of nearby Three Needle Street (Threadneedle St):

*The whole point of this had been to highlight how few pieces of pubic art have been created by women. Well, it turns out there are lots!  For instance, across the metropolis, we also have excellent works by Frick, Hambling, Jonzen and Hepworth to name just four and, also in the City, between Cannon Street and Queen Victoria Street, is one of my favourite pieces (actually three large pieces) 'Forgotten Streams' by Cristina Iglesias here – you might recall her similarly excellent installation in Burlington House courtyard as part of the RA Summer Show 2022.

Youth by William Dudeney – a lovely statue near Gough Square

Outside the door of  Pemberton House, 6 East Harding Street, between Gunpowder Square and Gough Square, there is a lovely sculptural piece of a young man casually perched on one knee.

I can find no marks on it at all; no date, no signature. The chunky athletic build is typical of the 1930s – rather Eric Gill-ish or Edward Bainbridge Copnall-like, or he might even be a Jacob Epstein creation. 

I had occasionally made attempts to find out more, specifically to ascertain who sculpted this piece and to clarify whether this building was constructed in the 1930s or the 1950s, made all the more confusing seeing as there is no mention of 'Pemberton' House' in the 1939 directory shown here, although it might have already been a whole block by then and perhaps the name of Pemberton House might have been later applied when it was converted and repurposed to recognise Pemberton Row at the end of E Harding St. 

A sculpted panel at the top of the building showing a representation of the printing industry bears the dates 1476-1956, though this doesn't actually confirm that 1956 is the date of the building – especially as the strip containing those dates looks to be a later addition. 

I wondered if it the building might have been constructed by Eyre & Spottiswoode, an interesting18th century printing company that, as you can see, also had a club in the same block/building. Whether the club was for all members of staff of just for the directors, I don't know. It might well have been a sports facility and this would tie in with this young man's athletic features. 

So back to the young man – it turns out that until today, I hade been searching using the wrong keywords, not using the name 'Pemberton' – basically, I hadn't looked very hard because all the info I needed is on Chris's excellent Ornamental Passions and has been there since 2012! 

He is called 'Youth' and was carved by William Dudeney, commissioned in 1955 by The Starmer Group, a company started by this man, that by the mid-1950s had acquired this site as their HQ, though this doesn't clarify when the building was constructed or when the name Pemberton was applied to it.

I am therefore assuming the name change happened quite recently when the block was converted to residential use. Any further info welcome. Incidentally, a furnished one bedroom flat starts at about £530 per week, which seems cheap to me considering the location. 

Read about another of William Dudeney's printer-related sculptures here  – and notice how one of the figures in that group is holding a printing block that containing Dudeney's name (with letters reversed) – clever. 

If Not Now, When at The Saatchi Gallery

Those of you know me well will know I roll my eyes and sigh every time I hear there's a women's thing on. Hence why I wasn't going to bother with this show at the Saatchi until 22 Jan 2024. Ah, but I'm always up for a free tour, so I went along and was pleasantly surprised by the content of this show. By which I mean the quality of the work, the ideas, the execution, not the 'what it is to be a woman' stuff, which I can never understand unless you also have had experience of being a man and can compare the two!

The show emphasises how women have struggled to be seen and heard in the art world throughout the decades, specifically since the 1960s. As you can see from my pics here, there's an emphasis on childbirth, body parts and restrictive clothing. I am still confused as to whether these women are boasting or complaining (a question I often ask when someone tells me they have a hangover after a big night or had to do [paid] overtime!). 

I probably find it hard to empathise because I have always worked in a male-dominated world, first for my father at his upholstery shop, dealing directly with sometimes stroppy customers as well as his boisterous friends in the pub, and then in the world of advertising and print where the air was often blue – if you didn't give back as good as you were given, or manage the situation there and then, then you'd simply fail. Don't be a mouse etc. I recall one print rep who was particularly colourful with his language. He was asked by my male colleague to tone it down. The fella assumed the reason was because I was there. He looked at me and said "oh yeah, mustn't swear, there's C*** here" – Unbelievable! Nobody laughed. We were all gobsmacked by him. He certainly didn't win any work for his company.

You might think idiots like that rep are made up creations for 1980's movies and dramas, but no, these characters were common and banter like that was considered amusing, if only to their peer group. I used to sometimes deliver items for print to the newspaper offices on Fleet Street and the uncouth things that were said to me because I was an 18-yr old blue-eyed blonde, beggared belief. Even at the time I thought these men were pathetic, all trying to outdo each other to be the biggest, rudest, puffed shirt. I wondered if there was a prize for who could say the F-word the most times in one sentence. Bless em! It must be hard being a man sometimes; competing with other men, jostling for attention, rutting and strutting and guzzling pints. here's an idea – the Saatchi could put on a show for men who feel they aren't powerful in today's world; my wife doesn't understand me; she thinks I'm an idiot, etc

But back to the ladies. I researched this females in art thing early last year whilst pulling together an online talk about women who are commemorated by statues in London; Nightingale, Seacole, Pankhurst, Cavell etc. I noticed that most of the memorials were created by male artists which seemed odd, and rather ironic. So I started 'collecting' women sculptors across London, expecting there to be a just a handful, and the list keeps getting longer. It's worth considering that many of the female artists whose work adorns our streets were active well before WW2 and I'm not sure they'd like to be considered as hampered by their sex. 

For example, and just picking a few ladies that come immediately to mind, we have Kathleen Scott near Carlton Terrace, Liz Frink and Irene Sedlecka in Mayfair, Karin Jonzen and Cristina Iglesias in The City, Barbara Hepworth in Oxford Street, Gillian Wearing in Parliament Square, Maggi Hambling in Charing Cross and Emily Young all over the place! 

I really should reinstate that talk, but I still need to work out how to condense it into one hour. Ditto the walking tours designed as three distinct routes, but I keep getting distracted. For instance, it's taken me ages just to write this blog post. I often say that I need about seven parallel universes just to finish all the stuff I've started, let alone walk the walks, read the books, and see other things myself.

Remnants of Rachel Whiteread's 'House' on Wennington Green, Grove Road, East London

Wandering westwards along Roman Road recently from its welcoming arch at the Parnell Road seeing how the road has evolved from the wonderfully scuzzy and diverse market street I used to know in the 1970s when my friend's family lived nearby, I arrived at the junction of Grove Road and pondered whether to carry on to Bethnal Green, head south to Mile End, or go for wander along the canal to Hackney. There's lots to see here. Instead, I entered the green space opposite the St Barnabas church and revisited a patch of art history. 

Scrutinising the ground, I found what I was looking for. A couple terracotta bricks in an L shape were partially obscured by the grass so I scraped away at the area with the soles of my shoes to better reveal them, then repeated the process at other spots close by.

These are some of the bricks that indicate the outline of where Rachel Whiteread's 'House' used to be, at what was No.193 Grove Rd. To see the original house and the artwork's construction see this film on YouTube. It was here in 1993, that this major artwork was demolished as Rachel won the Turner Prize that year. 

For the life of me I still cannot fathom how that decision was made – the demolition, not the winner of the Turner Prize! It's akin to the destruction of the Art Deco Firestone Factory in West London. Had 'House' been on land that was earmarked for development and reconstruction then I might understand that its removal was necessary. But today there's just a large expanse of mown grass mostly used by dog walkers. 

30 years ago Rachel's star was in ascendance, yet a bad decision was made to remove her innovative and thought-provoking sculpture. It always seems to me in these situations that no-one wants the 'responsibility' to be the one who authorises a controversial decision that might rock the boat. No-one wants to be the person who instigates a U-turn. The powers that be, the pen pushers, the jobsworths, the complainers, the people unable to see further than their noses, the people who just do what they are told, the contractors, the "it's out of my control, I've got a bit of paper" people who justify themselves by carrying out orders and not being personally responsible for these things. All exacerbated by non-thinking fools who just repeat whet they see in the tabloids about an 'ugly lump of concrete' yet rarely do readers visit the project themselves or attempt to understand the rationale, the meaning, the relevance to local and social history that is being told.  

People who did notice me taking pics and pacing out the ground simply looked at me like I was a bit bonkers. Which I'll accept! Had they known what I was doing I am sure they'd have come over for a chat as I was being rather obvious about it.  Ah Well. What's gone is gone. All that's left, three decades later, is a few bricks in the grass, but there's no explanation for them. I had expected to find something of that kind attached to one the benches that sit in the long grass within the plot, but no. 

Something else I noticed that day, which I thought was bizarre, was the nearby two picnic benches: 

These both had small cushions on them at the corners (not fixed in place) and one had a briefcase at one edge and a clip board at the other. It looked a bit religious, as if some people had just had a meeting and then wandered off, leaving their stuff behind. Is it always like this? Or was it just on that Saturday?

Then I noticed, between the adjacent bushes, some remnants of cushions and other food-related rubbish, plus a discarded Tigger stuffed toy. Looks like a dog had attacked a family picnic! 

What's that all about?!

After Impressionism: Inventing Modern Art at The National Gallery – ooh lovely!!

Oh my, this is good. What a lovely surprise – an absolute delight.

Just like my last post about the Ai WeiWei show, I had no idea about the content here until I entered the show. Immediately I saw some fabulous works of art, many of which I knew and had seen before elsewhere, others I had seen only in print or online, and quite a lot of pieces that I had never seen or heard of before. Breathe, breathe.

It's bloody good. It's got works by all the faves, Klimt, Van Gogh, Cezanne, Degas, Mondriaan (yes, I did spell that correctly), Seurat, Gaugin, Picasso, Matisse, et al, including many pieces new to me being as they are from private collections, the like of which we might never see again. Ooh. Lovely.   

I've put together a few details here – perhaps this could be a quiz – can you recognise the artists and/or the works? 

I have been told that many critics gave bad reviews about this show... Eh? Were those critics blind or lazy? Have they actually been to the show? Or, as I see often, did they copy and paste from one idiot's experience at a packed preview where the works cannot be seen due to the amount of people blocking the view? 

It's on until 13th August. Ignore the critics. Make up your own mind. Just show up, buy a ticket and walk in. I'm hoping my pics are temptation enough, but if you really need more info, click here.  

I might go a second time. Did I say I liked this?! 

BBC TV Centre – tiletastic!

Last week I went with my friend to be part of the audience for a panel show recordingw. 

We arrived to find many hundreds of people… the queues were way too long. The organisers of these things always over subscribe due to the percentge of no-shows but I think in this instance they'd sent out the invites in triplicate. Whoops.

Never mind. There'll be other dates. Instead, we went for a walk around the marvellous building and the surrounding area. 

I really like the dirt green tiled walls with the contrasting scarlet red lines. Ooh. And the sculptures by Huxley Jones, especially Helios on a tall pole at the centre – check out his strange knobbly knees!

More info about the building and the artworks here

Ron Mueck at the Thaddaeus Ropac Gallery – Wow in all respects

I had no idea about this superb gallery until I walked inside the door of this unassuming, yet beautifully renovated, Georgian house in Dover Street earlier this week. My friend and I had gone there to see the impressively realistic sculptures created by Ron Mueck and neither of us were ready for the place to be, what has been quoted as, possibly the loveliest gallery in London. 

As we entered Thaddaeus Ropac's gallery we were immediately impressed by the gorgeous wide hallway that leads through to a large room at rear of the building where three of Mr Mueck's pieces are displayed, a room I assume was once used for soirees, dancing or entertainment. Above the receptionist's desk in the hallway there is a gorgeous lightwell in the ceiling that offers tempting views of the floors above and I imagined young ladies looking down dressed in ballgowns, giggling as their party guests arrived.

Ron Mueck's pieces arranged over the ground and first floor, accessed by a superb marble staircase. His works are always oversized or undersized, never lifesize, and I find them absolutely fascinating, which is odd because I am not a fan of photo-realistic paintings. Perhaps it's the scale thing. This exhibition is a selection of 25 years' work and I distinctly recall my sense of awe the first time I saw Dead Dad at the Sensation exhibition and his overly-large Crouching Boy within the Body Zone at the Millennium Dome, in 2000. 

Another bonus – a room immediately to the left of the front door contains a small Marcel Duchamp exhibition – oh what a provocative naughty boundary-pushing man he was!

Everything about this gallery is worth going to see. Oh, and it's free. What's not to like?!

You need hands

Inspired by the pointing hands in a recent post, I have collected some more hands that please me. 

You might recognise some of them.

The centre pic was taken at the lights festival that usually happens around Canary Wharf in January. I use it for my Facebook avatar sometimes.

Endangered Species by Barry Baldwin on Grand Buildings

Blimey!  How did I not notice this until last year?
Trafalgar Square is a busy junction that I usually walk through or round quickly as I play 'dodge the tourists' but last summer I stopped in my tracks when I noticed something for the first time that's been there hiding in plain view since Feb 1991 – the entrance between Prezzo and Waterstone's at 31-32 Northumberland Avenue is absolutely slathered in marvellous details. 

Around this arch there are panels containing Adam and Eve surronded by seventy different animals from all around the globe such as a gorilla, an owl, a lizard, a bear, a zebra, various birds and sea creatures. And, as you can see from above, there are flowers, plants a trellis and a factory too. A hand at the apex of this arch appears to hold a horn of fruit. And there is watch on its wrist which I told is showing 'the eleventh hour'.

Three pics stuck together here

I hunted for an artist's mark but all I could find was a foundation stone for the building showing that Grand Buildings is a Land Securites development by architects Sidell Gibson Partneship, constructed by Higgs and Hill on the site of The Northumberland Hotel.
The archways continue to the beginning of The Strand and each one has a different carved head at the top. Some are winking, some are gurning, one wears a tie, another has a spotty scarf, all are rather strange. I am at aloss as to who these people are supposed to be.

I always like to end with a link for more information. Well, blow me down if my mate Peter Bertoud has also written about this and begins his piece with practically the same opening line!

Barry Baldwin
Barry Baldwin's Facebook page

Australia House

Last week my friend Rob Smith, a fellow Footprints of London guide, told me that an Australian lady on one his walks said she followed my blog and she was intrigued that he knew me.
Well, how nice.
And oddly coincidental because a few days before I was out doing a recce for an up-coming walk of my own and I noticed that sculptor's name on the piece by the door of Australia House, Aldwych, is by Harold Parker.
Harold was born in the UK and went back and forth to Brisbane during his lifetime. Perhaps he was one of my distant relatives?!

Take One Picture – creatve inspiration for schoolchildren at The National Gallery

My last post was about the Degas exhibition at the National Gallery. If you do go to see that, or even if you don't, walk through the adjacent gift shop where some excellent and competitively-priced Degas-themed merchandise is available, to a room full of art made my schoolchildren.
When visiting the National gallery I often see groups of small uniformed people sat in front of a painting listening to a teacher, or engaged in making their own drawings, and I wonder what they are up to. Well, now I understand what's going on; it appears children are shown a painting (this year it's A Roman Triumph by Peter Paul Rubens) and are then encouraged to write about and/or create some kind of art based on their observations. 

Marvellous artwork across the ages. I especially love the elephants and the white ceramics. Bottom right is from a video where children are performing a play inspired by the sacrifice and slaughter depicted in Rubens' painting.

The cross-section of results shown in this room is delightful and shows we have some great future artists running around our playgrounds.
Take One Picture was launched in 1995, yet stumbling on this room last week was the first I knew about it. Probably because I don't have children. I wish similar things were available when I was a child. I'd have been proverbial pig in the dirty stuff.
Lots more educational stuff in the Learning section of the National Gallery's website.

A Walking Tour around Woolwich Arsenal

Earlier this summer I went on an excellent tour of Woolwich Arsenal led by my friend Laurence Scales.

Laurence is interested in machines and the military, especially things that go "bang" and so is the perfect guide for this kind of walk.
I find Woolwich to be a strange place, by which I mean in the planning sense, in the same way that I find Portsmouth a bit of a mess with its three distinct yet unlinked and unrelated zones. Both towns have strong links to our Naval past and both seem to have suffered over the years not just from neglect but from planning departments who don't seem to have a clue how to integrate and relate the history to the people who live there or what we need today – they just sling up another shopping arcade.
I wonder what percentage of Woolwich 's residents actually visit the old Arsenal site because the town clearly has two different zones, just a stone's throw apart, separated by one strip of tarmac (Beresford Street) – one side is all shops and markets and old cinemas with architectural hints of a bustling and prosperous past, and the other side, the Thames side, seems like a polished up homogenised version of history as if the machines just stopped working one day and overnight the buildings were gutted and cleansed and converted into [luxury?!] flats surrounded by manicured lawns, and commissioned art. For me, the arsenal side has an eerie feeling. Mind you, I'd love an address that was in No.1 Street.

Moving on... near the old covered market facing The Thames on the shopping side of the main road I spotted some fab old hand-painted signs for a long-gone music shop:

Regaee? Nice try!

More Woolwich observations from 2013