Kensington Coal Holes in the Rain

I was out for a wander on Saturday and happened to be following the Long Water from the Italian Gardens to the Serpentine Gallery via the Peter Pan statue. It started to rain so I tied back my hair and buttoned up my mac and headed into the streets behind Kensington Gore as it occurred to me that I'd never properly explored that zone. 

Well, what a delight. Embassies and empty houses, cul-de-sacs, courtyards, mews and gardens, and hardly a human in sight. And I'm sure that wasn't due to the inclement weather on that day. I kept noticing how lovely some of the coal cover plates looked, highlighted by the rain. 

I turned into Palace Gate and noticed some ironmongers' designs that were new to me so, of course, I had to start taking snaps. If you notice any strange rainbow effects in these images it is the reflection of my colourful stripy umbrella!

First, above, two covers from distant locations – Lely's of Station Approach, London Bridge, with its four circular lenses sparkling in the rain, and a Luxfer Prisms of Clerkenwell cover, its centre section in-filled with cement. 

Then, on the West side of the street, I found a very unusual nobbly self-locking plate, here contrasted with one of its neighbours, in the conventional flatter style, here made by Needham & Sons. I am at a loss where or who Stockport John is/was.

I turned into Kensington Gate, a lovely enclosed street with private gardens, and along its northern side I found lots of what I can only call 'pretty' plates. It's as if someone had filled or coloured in the holes within the discs. Or perhaps it was just the water highlighting their features: 

These are two almost identical Hayward's plates, yet the left one looks to have marble inserts in some of the holes, and the one on the right contains a variety of coloured mosses, making it looked like an artist's palette. 

A James Bartle & Co plate further along looks like someone has been busy with a gold pen. And the holes in an adjacent Woodrow plate are filled with seeds etc, making it look like a little biology collection:

 

Then two unbranded plates, each with four lightwells/lenses but clearly (opaquely?!) using different grades of glass as one is more blue than green:

And here's another self-locking plate with little samples of grass within it alongside an earlier James Bartle design sporting five concentric circles:

Along the southern side of Kensington Gate I found some makers' names new to me including J. W. Benney & Co of Stepney in the East End (pic not included here because the photo's not very good) and two plates bearing the name of a local company J.W. Lawson of Kensington:

Both are floral, but I particularly like the unusual design on the one on the left. The one on the right shows a High Street Kensington address – a quick peek into the 1882 directory shows the business at No.108 as John Welch Lawson, builders' ironmonger which is directly opposite the tube station and it may well have been inside this building. 

I hope you enjoyed looking at these as much as I did finding them. There are lots more streets I haven't investigated in this area of Kensington, so I am pretty sure there are more architectural gems to be found there.

To see more of my coal hole observations, click here. 

Th Crucible at The Gielgud Theatre: numbing not electrifying

Arthur Miller’s ‘The Crucible’ is one of those classics on my list of never read or seen. It was on the curriculum at school but not for my stream. I know the basic story, being as it’s based in fact, about the Salem witch trials, which Miller used to make a point about MacCarthyism. I hadn’t even seen the two movies made. So I bought a ticket.

You may have read on here that I don’t like to find out too much about something before I go and experience it for myself. I had seen short promos online and headings to reviews in the press praising the way the show was staged and how the whole thing was a magnificent revival, or perfect as shown here on the Gielgud’s site. A word repeated used to describe it, used far too often which suggests a copy and paste job, was/is ‘electrifying’

Dear reader, it is soporific. It numbed me. I think I dozed off a couple of times!  Everyone speaks at the same tone to the same beat with no break or pauses like a metronome hence the hypnotic rather than stimulating effect. It certainly didn’t give me sense of dread or foreboding as I later found out it was meant to do. 

Having subsequently read a synopsis of the play, I realise many poignant things that were said on stage were missed by me completely. I hadn’t grasped who was related to whom, who had done what when or who most of the characters were. Seems to me that this is a performance for people who have studied the play who are already in the know. Which was evident here and there when audience members laughed (laughed?) in that in-the-know way they do to prove how brilliant they are, whereas I was sat there questioning what had been said. Many of these loud chucklers looked to be young students who I guess are studying the play at the moment  

I did like the look of it though. The rain effect, the costumes, the moodiness, the way people appeared like ghosts from the rear of the stage. But I also noted that the positioning of actors on the stage was often too equally spaced in the same way they that had been directed to deliver their lines - I’ll speak then you speak and he will speak then she will speak, all in the same tempo and in strange Bostonian(?) accents. Actually, here’s a thought… had that or any US regional accent set in by that time period? Surely these early settlers had all come from various places inc England and Europe and would not have yet had a common accent..?

Anyway. I sat for five mins of the interval and wondered whether to stick it out. I pondered how I’d seen quite a few people leave already during the performance. Perhaps 18 people of varying ages. I wondered if the second half would bring it all together for me. I Googled a synopsis and realised there was too much I hadn’t already understood and so I too left to read it properly on the bus home. I later looked up reviews of this show, a few of which also said they found it strangely paced and relentless as regards the dialogue. 

A shame. Disappointed. Numbed not electrified.

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?! 

Making Sense of Ai Weiwei at The Design Museum – wonderfully evocative

I went to see this show on a whim, it was a sort of an unplanned visit being as the Design Museum was a convenient place to meet my friend. Immediately as we entered the space we said "wow!" out loud. Both of us are into collections, patterns, history references, etc, and this show brings together all of that and more.

Ai Weiwei has been through so much in his life and this show brings together much of his hard fought experiences, making beautiful arrangements out of thought-provoking remnants and broken parts, and new pieces inspired by his time in incarceration. 

We were especially intrigued as to how the many thousands of elements were placed. For instance, if this show moves to another location, will the many individual fragments be arranged in exactly in the same configuration?  To this end, I took photos of some of the corners of the displays so that we might be able to compare them with any future shows. 

The idea of exact replication would be a major undertaking, but we think it might be the case, especially in the case of the arrangement of little porcelain balls which clearly has specific areas of different coloured clay within the smaller size, something we decided was intentional. There's also a pattern within the layout, like arrangements of fans. 

Lego bricks also feature, recreating Monet's Water Lilies with the addition of portal to a hidden bunker. It's a mesmerising and thought-provoking show in many ways. 

The show is on until 30th July – more info here – though I always say, don't look at pics of things before you go to see things – just get a hint of it and get the 'hit' of the new when you get there, just as we did. 

In amongst AW's political, historical, topographical and social observations, I learned that there are two types of woodworking in China – furniture making and house building are called 'small carpentry' and 'large carpentry'. How nice. Many of the arrangements at the show gave me the urge to get creative with a needle and thread or to rearrange my own collections, especially my clay pipe fragments, something I have been meaning to return to as an art project rather than just a jewellery outlet.

St James's Place and Blue Ball Yard– so much to see

I popped in to St James's Hotel and Club yesterday afternoon to have a chat with Graham, the head concierge. We swopped stories and observations about London's quirks and unusual details and he asked me whether the lamp in adjacent Blue Ball Yard was a still powered by gas. Hmm. I didn't know, so I went to check it out.
I'd done a lot of research on gas lamps last year when planning my walking tours on the subject, so it was strange how I'd not previously investigated this particular little enclave of streets between St James's Street and the park. 

Blue Ball Yard* today gives access to the rear of The Stafford Hotel's American Bar and, yes, the wall-mounted lamp at the left side is indeed a functioning gas lantern. There is another one at the far end but it is hard to access so I'm not sure if that one too is also powered by gas. See the google streetview here.

It occurred to me that there surely must be other gas lamps in the vicinity. A logical idea, being as St James's Palace, The Mall, Carlton Terrace and St James's Park were all mostly lit by gas during the reign of George IV, so it follows that the well-to-do streets here would also be similarly illuminated.

I ventured into St James's Place, the next street down, and immediately found another wall-mounted lamp on the left of the street at No.44 and two more opposite at No2 and No8 (the green plaque commemorates Sir Francis Chichester) with a similar lantern down the turning to the left that leads to the Duke Hotel and a tall standard lamp at the end of the yard. On the left side there's also a row of low level lanterns that appear to have been completely disconnected.

More tall standard lamps can be found at the western end of the main street. most of which marked GeorgeV 1910. I'm surprised they aren't older being as others in the St James's area date from the reign of George IV.  

I counted eleven gas-powered street lamps in St James's Place and this doesn't include those on privately-owned buildings such as the impressive pair outside Spencer House or the one above the door of the Royal Ocean Racing Club, shown below centre. 

I also found some other interesting oddities along the road. For instance, there are only a few coal hole cover plates. All of them sport geometric patterns rather than overt branding although some bear the name Mason, see below left .

There is a bizarre circular cover plate near the lamp at No.45 with brass letters bearing the name of F. Devereux, silversmith, who, I am assuming lived/worked there. These discs usually show the name of the foundry/ironmonger who made/sold the plate. I've looked in old directories but I can't see anyone by the name of Devereux here. Instead, the address is listed as a lodging house in 1882 through to at least 1915 when it's shown as apartments. Any ideas?  

At the far corner, at No 26 there is a twentieth century building that you could say looks out of place with the rest of the street. It's not an office block but a Grade II* luxury apartment building designed by Sir Denys Lasdun and constructed 1959-60. It sports a RIBA architecture award plaque (that I forgot to photograph) but what I particularly like about it is the zeitgeist 1950s typeface used on some of the signage – it's very Univers Condensed Bold Italic. 

Back to the street furniture and metalwork...  just before the entrance to The Stafford Hotel, almost underneath one of the wall-mounted gas lanterns, is a rectangular man hole cover. If you've read my previous posts about this kind of thing you are probably ahead of me here in guessing that this contains twelve little squares of wood block paving, see above right which I'll add with better photos to my next group of wood block findings in another post soon (ooh the excitement!).

Finally, at the far end of the street, there is a little alley off to the right that leads to the rear gate of the St James's Hotel, the building in which I had started this mini-journey. The sunlight on the buildings yesterday afternoon was amazing, making it look more like somewhere in Italy. 

*Blue Ball Yard – I'd been mis-calling it Blue Bell Yard ever since yesterday. I originally thought it was ref to a flower or a hanging bell that with a clapper that was coloured blue. But no, it's a ball. But what blue ball? Is it a game? Was it a sign for something?  There are other Blue Ball pubs in the UK, but I have yet to find out the significance of the name. And Cabbie Blog in this link also gets his bells and balls confused. Incidentally, if you haven't already read his book about his life and observations doing The Knowledge and driving customers around London, I wholeheartedly recommend it. 

A large Hayward Brothers coal hole cover – size really does matter

There are lots of coal hole cover plates embedded into the streets of Marylebone. A large percentage show they were manufactured by Hayward Brothers of Union Street, Southwark. At the eastern end of Devonshire Street, outside what is now the Turkish Embassy at 69 Portland Place, there is this coal hole cover plate, also made by Hayward Bros:

But look closely near the centre and see that it a 21" coal plate. I can't say that I have ever seen one of these larger formats anywhere else. To put this into context, here it is in vague proportion with a collection of other Hayward Bros cover plates in the immediate vicinity, all of which have standard 12" plates, some of them set some within a ring/rim. 

And to further illustrate the size difference, here re shots that include my lovely trainers.

Cool huh – both the large cover plate and my Nike Internationalists!   

Question is, why was this building created with just one very large access/storage point for coal rather than a long bunker under the pavement with multiple standard size plates as I have seen outside many other large properties? I suspect it was a constructed as large family home, but I don't have access to the any info as to who lived there originally. Any additional info welcome. 

For more of my posts about coal hole covers, simply click here. 

Hidden London tours of Kingsway Tram Tunnel

Two weeks ago I finally visited the disused tram tunnel underneath Holborn Kingsway, a subterranean passage that was built for public transport just below street level, linking North and South London via Bloomsbury and The Embankment. 

We met our guides at the top of the one in ten access slope at the junction of Southampton Row and Theobald's Road here. Note the impressive railings and lamp standards that protect the entrance. I'm simply going to show you some of my photos. 

The base of the central lamp directly above the tunnel entrance bears the cartouche LCC, London County Council 

Looking down at the rails. In some places you can see clear to the void below and we were advised not to let anything drop down there, because they wouldn't be able to get it back. Some old posters which I think were real as there are also hints of posters and signage installed more recently being as this tunnel has often been used as filming location.

My two photos show the steps leading up to the exit that was almost opposite Holborn tube station. The archive image is the other exit near Bush House and shows that in order to get to the tram platforms you had to play with the traffic at ground level

Ooh look, more wood blocks! And a lovely pattern of rails, and a modern Fire Exit sign, though I'm sure not quite as attractive as the ones of 100 years ago would have been. 

The large panels within the pic on the left are metal and these would have been used for advertising posters. They are still in amazingly good condition. I like abstract patterns made by colourful wires on sooty walls. 

There might be trams in Croydon, and I am sure that I heard about a decade ago, a proposal for trams to be reintroduced to Oxford Street etc, but, for many reasons, there are no plans to bring them back to this old subway. Today, most of this underground space is used by Camden Council to store redundant street furniture.

Rad blocks, barriers, lamp standards, and all sorts being stored here. 

I spotted some attractively-arranged storage in some of the recesses along the access slope. They look like little art installations. Surely this isn't an accident?! I think the curators probably use those two chairs and were off having a tea break when we were there!  

The southern section under Aldwych is still a functioning underpass, used by small vehicles rather than public transport, and headed northwards only. Access is from Lancaster Place at the northern end of Waterloo Bridge. Many years ago, when I had my little Fiat Panda, I used to love whizzing through there like I was in the Monaco Grand Prix, down the slope, swing to the right, swing to the left, emerging into Kingsway triumphant just before Portugal Street. And then sitting in traffic (of which I was part!). 

Pat and Kat were our guides on the day and their enthusiasm shone through. It's a really good tour, albeit a bit expensive, but you're only going to do it once. Find out lots more by experiencing the tour yourself through London Transport Museum's website here, where you'll also find archive images and more information.

Adamant in Redbridge, Haringey and Aberdeen

I recently revisited lovely Valentine's Park, just north of Ilford's shopping centre, on the east side of Cranbrook Road. 

Adjacent to the park's junction with Beehive Lane there is Valentine's Mansion and gardens. The house is accessed via a curved path which is tiled in gorgeous little bricks, each approx15x4cm arranged in a herringbone pattern.

Some of the tiles, on the left side as you face the building, have a brand stamped into them. They read, 'Adamantine / Clinker. Regd.' in capital letters and, in all cases, the letter N is flipped – see how the diagonal goes the wrong way. Whether that was done on purpose, or it's just a delightful maker's error, I do not know. Notice also, that each brick includes a stamped illustration of what I think is the machinery used to produce them.

These bricks reminded me that I'd also seen the name Adamant before somewhere, and I don't mean the gorgeous 1980's dandy highwayman, though it's nice to revisit him and his double drum kits here. I instead mean I had seen brass letters embedded in the pavement somewhere in in the Crouch End area and I wondered if it might be the same company.  I searched my files but, bizarrely, I hadn't taken snaps. That's not like me!

Well, today I re-found it... an Aberdeen Adamant access cover (probably to waterworks beneath) can be found in the pavement by the street sign for Elmfield Avenue, between the YMCA and the petrol station, just off Tottenham Lane.  It's almost unnoticeable unless the sun is shining onto it, see here:

A quick bit of googling leads me to information about the company on The Other Aberdeen's blog. 

Thanks! Though he hasn't listed those brick tiles in Valentines Park.

And Maggie has found another example in South London – a metal ellipse in an Earlsfield pavement in hows the company also had a London office.  A quick look at the 1899 directory shows Adamant at two City locations, in Cheapside and Bishopsgate:

That'll do for now, but if I do spot any other examples or find out anything else, I will add to this post.

I finally made it to Clerkenwell Design Week – CDW2023

This year I finally made it to Clerkenwell Design Week. A silly name seeing as it’s only three days Tues-Thurs, but hey. I’ve missed it many times in the past because it clashed with work commitments, tour guiding etc. or perhaps I was out of the country. Or simply lazy.  I dunno. 

This year, due to a job being postponed, I suddenly had a big blank gap in my diary so I hopped on the tube to Farringdon where a girl at the CDW kiosk in front of the station printed off my badge and attached it to a snazzy pink lanyard and off I went to explore. 

And, Oh my god, I had no idea how extensive this event was. I ventured into places I have either never had cause to enter before or they just weren’t known to me, being as my Clerkenwell of old was a world of typesetters and printers, and then crafters, artist and designer-makers. But these days, with print gone digital, and the artists mostly moved to Docklands, the Clerkenwell area is the domain of interior design solutions – bricks, flooring, heating, ceramics, shelving systems, integrated this that and whatnot. And wow. I learned so much. Let’s do this in the order I visited…

From Farringdon station I turned left down Cowcross St where a free sample bottle of Multivitamin Gummies was thrust into my hand (the first of many promotional freebies) and I made my way round to St John Street. First stop was EHSmith architectural solutions. I was lured in by the arrangements of bricks on the walls looking like the best swatch book ever. Anyone who knows me knows that I love a paint chart or a Pantone selector. So I accepted a good black coffee at the welcome desk and wandered about the showroom taking snaps of the wide selection of product samples (above) and this was to become my style of pics for the whole day. 

I chatted to the staff about how nice it is that some new builds of late are implementing fancy brickwork or hand fired tiles and was just about to leave when I noticed the artwork bricks in the window display. I queried their relevance and was encouraged to go downstairs and see the guys who were setting up a table for their ‘Draw On A Brick‘ competition. Basically, they give you a large brick and you can paint/ draw on it there (lots of sharpies, paints etc available) or you can take it away to work on it at home and get it back by 14th July to enter the comp and possibly win an all expenses paid trip to Vienna. Blimey. Vienna is still on my Go To list so I went back for a brick later. 

Opposite EH Smith I noticed that The White Bear was open again. It had been a lovely old Victorian boozer that I last visited just before it closed in 2019. I’d been concerned that original features that were still hanging on in there, like carved wood, tiled areas and fireplace, would be replaced so I popped inside and chatted to the lovely Italian fella in there, and I can report that, phew, it’s all been retained and you can still buy a pint of draught in there and enjoy it with a pizza. The Italian influence in the area was to become further evident as my day progressed. 

A few doors along is Forbo, a flooring specialist. Again, walls of lovely square swatches (middle pic above). I particularly liked the marble, terrazzo and textured surfaces. At the rear of the showroom there was a woman from Chocofruit, which is basically skewered fruit slathered in chocolate. I accepted a banana and strawberry combo over which she dribbled dark and white chocolate, sprinkled with crushed nuts. If you think that sounds naughty you should have seen the sample display of a whole banana on the counter covered in a veined pattern of three chocolates which I said looked like many cases of wrong!  This gloopy concoction seemed to me to be a strange messy thing to be eating in a showroom. I had trouble getting it in my mouth without smearing it all round my face or dripping on the floor. The floor was lovely by the way. Well, obviously. 

Then into Elite’s London showroom a few doors further along. Here I spent ages chatting to lovely Michelle a bit about their office furniture but mostly about how attention to detail is key. Our main concern being, to do things right first time and you won’t need to fix them later. An absolute delight. And more swatch books of fabrics.  

I could have chatted to Michelle all day but I crossed the road to RAK Ceramics. First thing I spotted was what I thought was two huge slices of marble at the rear of a bathroom installation. But it turns out this was/is ceramic. And wow. What an amazing product, and surprisingly cheap as I later found out when I was shown around by Andy. He explained the Italian core of the business and how they make the products and all the colours and ‘marbles’ available. If I was doing up my bathroom or kitchen I’d def be looking into this stuff. Oh, and whilst we were talking we accepted and enjoyed some marvellous small bowls of excellent food. Almost every company taking part in CDW was partnered with a food or drink outlet/sponsor. Tho I did notice in other places that most of it was being quaffed or scoffed by what looked like staff members sat around tables talking not actually talking about products. Ha ha. 

My next stop was interesting and had I not stopped to chat to the guy at the door of 140 St John St to ask what was inside I prob would have walked past. I’m glad Andy piqued my interested because on the 4th floor I found Rockfon, a company offering some very clever and simply attractive acoustic products, Fiona explained the products to me and I became so engaged in the subject of clever, almost unnoticeable yet attractive acoustic solutions products that I forgot to take any snaps. I returned on Thursday to listen to a talk about the problems with noise levels in today's pubs and restaurants. Interesting, but I'd been hoping they'd share their ideas of how to assuage these problems.

In the Brewery Yard area, I first visited Sedus to learn more about how working environments are now multi-use adaptable spaces. They’ve got some lovely adaptable chairs and I was delighted by an almost dolls' house scale model which includes Lego pieces of Father Christmas and other random characters.

In another building, I think it was Wagstaff & Umbrella Furniture, I got talking to a young man called Yorke who was there representing his father’s company making living walls, by which I mean plants that are alive but not living. I’m still a bit confused about that process and I’m not sure about the vibrant unreal colour of the manipulated plants as the green is too blue-green to me. I dunno. 

Near there is Camira, in their own words, and literally, ‘a textile revolution’ - they recycle old fabrics into new ones. And such gorgeous weaves and colours too. After that, I started noticing Camira fabrics in other showrooms. 

I peeked into a few more places including a couple offering carpet squares. I’ve yet to see any examples that don’t make me feel like I’m at a temporary event/exhibition and many of the new designs I saw here have the effect of looking threadbare even tho they are brand new, so I don’t really understand the appeal at all. Perhaps I should have had a proper chat to someone about sustainability/recycling, as I might have been enlightened.

On the flip side, I do see the allure of a good hardwood floor and I spent ages in Havwoods in Gt Sutton Street, letting Richard explain to me the different surfaces and finishes as I am keen to replace my own living room floor at home (one day!). Whoops, despite many drawers of lovely surfaces, I only took one pic, shown above right, because it reminded me about woodblock paving. 

Then just up the street near a colourfully-tiled infinity room by Yinka Ilori, I went into The Gallery where I got chatting to Spencer, the project advisor for Unilin. To cut a long story short here, Spencer knows his onions and when I asked him about the eco friendliness of his company’s panels, used for kitchen cupboards, shelves etc, I was really impressed, enlightened and encouraged to hear how the far ahead of the game Unilin is. Go google. As I said to Spencer, five stars on all accounts. 

In Zip Water I had fun being contrary. Basically, I just don’t understand these new scalding hot and freezing cold multifunction mixer taps that I am told are being installed in a very large proportion of new builds these days. As I said to the guys, they are ok in a work, hospitality or canteen environment (tho you’d need unattractive H&S warning stickers nearby) but how can something that squirts out 97degF be safe in the home, especially near children? And that huge unit under the sink taking up valuable space – what’s wrong with a kettle?! And why do people need shower nozzles on a kitchen tap when they have dishwashers for plates when the trend these days is to get food delivered in disposable cartons by courier? What is the world coming to? People obviously have much larger disposable incomes that I do. Oh how we laughed. Dan says and he’ll send me more info. I’ll take some convincing!!  Oh, instead of alcohol, croissants or chocolate fruit, here there was a Pic 'n' Mix sweet dispensary. I filled up a small bag with cola bottles, jelly worms and choc discs and continued my investigation and education…

In Bastwick Street I visited the marvellous showroom of Sixteen3 on the first floor of one of my favourite Art Deco manufactories in this area. At first glance at the furniture here and you’d think, oh yeah, more modular bench seating, shelves and dividers. Until you then notice the clever recycled products made from things such as plastic, bamboo and cork, all available in a lovely range of colours whether for the hard or soft elements. Clever, understated, well designed pieces. I really like the little marble-effect tables made from carrier bags, each one totally unique.

A quick nip into another Italian interiors showroom in Old Street, also with large scale ceramic panels. Somewhere around here I'd lost the name card from my lanyard. Every company I had visited had used to keep a tab on visitors and the paper, tho thick, had taken quite a bashing. I retraced my steps but couldn’t find it. It wasn’t a pre-requisite so I carried on even tho by this time, about 5:30pm, I was starting to fade. I crossed over to Ocee & Four (uplifting positive quotes on their cards) where I heard about their adaptable tables and chairs alongside laughing Laura from Manchester. 

I found an art gallery open in Albermarle Way, not part of CDW, where Alison Hainey, artist, showed me around its lovely Georgian interior and her studio. I really like her work. Her deep dirty colours and melancholic subject matter is right up my street. 

Finally, a walk through the Italian ceramics tent adjacent to St John’s Gate. And it again occurred to me how many Italians are today trading out of Clerkenwell. Sort of a second wave following on from the organ grinders, ice cream makers and restaurant owners that settled at the western side of this district over 100 years before. 

I thought I'd had enough. But no there was too much to see. On Wednesday afternoon I returned for a few hours to investigate some showrooms and installations around Clerkenwell Green. Old buildings such as theSessions House being used to great effect these days. I found innovative bathroom solutions, Spanish ceramics, South African textiles and some innovative lighting solutions in the underground cells of the old Detention House including some more acoustic solutions, this time made from waste cotton – the gorgeous tiles that look like papier maché (see middle pic above). 

And then I went back again on Thursday! After the restaurant acoustics talk I collected my brick then investigated the spaces within St John's church Clerkenwell. I haven't been inside there for over fours years. Lots of lovely floorings and textiles in the church. I particularly liked the topographic rugs. The crypt below has been given a whitewash since I last visited, which makes the space better and brighter for events such as this yet leaving William's memento mori and the unknown knight undisturbed whilst surrounded by Kasthall's gorgeous rugs. By now it was 5pm and many showrooms were closing. I wish I'd got to Schotten & Hansen earlier so that I could have coloured up a swatch of wood (see below left) Ooh.

I ended my experience at Viaduct where there are some amazing unique lighting and furniture pieces on show. But I was too late to see the marvellous Mr Smith is action at his letterpress. I did chat to him for quite a while though, even though he'd as good as lost his voice after demonstrating his work. 

I'm exhausted and so very pleased I had the time to visit this year. It’s been a delight. I’ve learned lots and I have met some interesting people. Thank you CDW2023 

One more thing... I kept noticing that everyone I spoke to had pale eyes, either blue like mine or green or light yellowy hazel. A weird phenomenon. I’m sure I only met one person who had brown eyes (a Zip mixer tap man). I wonder, is there some kind of correlation here re an interest in creative innovative stuff? Just a thought. 

Remembering Andreas Michli & Son

I was out and about wandering* along and through the back streets of Harringay/Haringey recently. After delivering a framed print to an address in the Hornsey Vale area (which, incidentally, offers amazing views of Ally Pally) I was intending to head straight back home to Holloway but on venturing slightly off-piste I rediscovered the lovely old library near the junction of Quernmore Rd which beckoned me inside and, after half an hour of book browsing, I then got distracted and delighted by the shops that form the old station parade there and, oh gawd, here we go again... I was out for hours. I'm not complaining though. 

Emerging into Wightman Road, I first investigated some of the streets that form the lower rungs of 'the ladder' including the parallel worlds of the New River and the Harringay Passage, a footpath that links Turnpike Lane to Umfreville Rd but stops short of the railway land, today converted into a marvellous bug-tastic and diverse eco-park. 

I wandered up and down Green Lane's Grand Parade looking at the adapted facades on the buildings (ooh, I feel a montage coming on soon) and after a yummy lunch in a Turkish restaurant I made my way into the streets on the eastern side of the road, with the idea to follow the railway line as best as as possible, eastward to South Tottenham station. I found some more little green spaces abutting the line and made my way into and around the old St Ann's Hospital site, coming out almost opposite the recreation ground and Black Boy Lane renamed La Rose Lane earlier this year.

I then recalled that I had recently noticed from the top of a passing bus that the grocery shop at the corner of St Ann's Road (where it meets Salisbury Rd a sharp point) hadn't yet re-opened. I had assumed it had closed due to coronavirus but that did seem odd. And, even if that was the case, why would it still be closed now? So I instead of heading towards Seven Sisters I made my way back towards Green Lanes to investigate.

I had often thought that if I lived in the vicinity I would definitely frequent Michli's with its marvellous selection of fruit and veg and so much more – see this retrospective streetview for how the shop looked twelve years ago. But I've missed out. Because now it's closed for ever. It's empty. And there's a very sad reason for this. 

A type-written sheet on the glass door near the corner tells the story. It seems the shop has been closed for over four and a half years now. Andreas passed away in August 2018.

I peered inside and saw the remains of a once-thriving business. Wood-panelled walls, a delivery tricycle, empty shelves, pots and pans and pictures, racks and rubbish and, bizarrely/ironically, one of those Oriental perpetually waving cats, still waving. Other windows contain healthy houseplants. 

I can't really do this justice being as I never went inside and I never met the evidently much-missed Andreas Michli. But I've read some marvellous reviews of the shop like this one from 2011 explaining Andreas's ethics and how he was proactive in offering locally-grown produce. After his death many heartfelt remembrances have been posted online – I particularly like this one by Shilpah Shah. 

So what's going to happen to the shop? There is an estate agent's board on the building that seems to intimate that the property is already let. However, they have an active listing here (approx £4K a month available for a 15 year lease) which also includes some excellent photos of the interior spaces. 

I really hope whoever takes on the site respects it and doesn't lose all the layers of architectural history here. I'd be more than saddened to see this all replaced wit UPVC. And I am sure Andreas would be saddened too. Fingers crossed. 

Update March 2026 – HURRAH! most of the property has been sympathetically converted into a lovely community hub/cafe called 33's The Old Grocery Store.

See Google streetview here

*wandering. I do a lot of wandering. I set out to go somewhere and, once I have been to the shop or delivered the package, I get easily distracted by backstreets, old signage, intriguing alleyways etc. I follow my nose wherever it takes me until my feet ache or my belly gurgles. I will write about being a Nosey Parker soon.