Architecture – Page 13 – Brian Micklethwait's New Blog

East India DLR station

Yes, it’s 2017 again, April, and I’m on my way home after a hard afternoon’s photoing out east. I get to that moment when suddenly, snap, my energy is all gone, and I just want home. So I drag myself to the nearest rail station. And this time, that rail station was East India:

Something to do with the East India docks, I presume.

Why show photos of that? Well, London can’t be all spectacular Big Things and lavish world renowned river views. Much of the secret of great cities is the amount of humdrum and utterly replaceable stuff they contain, and replaceability equals growability. A city can’t be great if it’s not growing, and it can’t grow if everywhere in it is finished.

As for the architecture, if that’s the word, of places like this DLR station, that’s now reached that awkward spot of being too new to be old and picturesque, but not new enough actually to be new any more, like pop music that your elder brother likes.

Which means it’s architecture that nobody (apart from me) thinks worth photoing. People just use it constantly, and forget about it. But there it is. One day some of it will be old and picturesque, and there will be complaints about it being torn down to be replaced by further humdrummery, or perhaps by resplendent and finished Big Things.

Meanwhile, I find that such railway stations are not only deserving of themselves being noticed, but are often, because of being elevated (to enable their tracks to go over existing roads) very good spots for noticing other things. Like the Shard (8), or that building rather cheerfully tricked out in yellow, green and blue (7). The building in (4) was trying hard to look good also, even if I reckon it failed. Or how about that strange bus stop road colouring that looks like a carpet has been unrolled (6)?

I’ve never understood those strange rolls of wire that you see beside railways (11). Is that for if they find they need more wire, which they can then pull towards them through tubes? That would make sense.

I do understand selfies, and the hair pats that so often go with them (12). I reckon they were lining themselves up with the Shard.

Perhaps most diverting of all, to me anyway, is the contrast between the extreme fussiness and complexity of the main body of this thing (1) (2) (3), with all its “expressed” structure (think of the just-that-bit-earlier-than-this Lloyds building in the City), with the relative banality of what the fuss is all in aid of (5). The architects of these places had their heads full of bigger, more award-winning Things than they were allowed actually to build, as architect heads so often are.

A different Wheel shadow on the Shell Building

Many is the late afternoon when I have walked along the South Bank from Westminster Bridge, past the Wheel, and on downstream, until fantigue caused me to seek a tube station. And quite often, I have enjoyed the shadow cast by the Wheel onto the face of the Shell Building, Here, for instance, are some photos of this effect that I photoed way back in 2006. This was how such shadows usually look, featuring the clearly visible pods on the rim of the Wheel.

Yesterday, I did this same walk again, and as already revealed in that earlier posting, the light yesterday afternoon and evening was really special. There were numerous clouds that might have blotted out the evening sun, but they didn’t, or not always. Therefore, there were times when the sun was crashing in past Parliament onto the Wheel, and casting a Wheel shadow onto the Shell Building, just as usual.

What was not usual, however, was the exact nature of the shadow cast. Because of an accident of direction, and perhaps also a quirk of the time of year (I seem to recall another never-to-be-forgotten lighting quirk that happened around this time of the year seven years ago), the exact shadow cast on the Shell Building was very different:

You may not recognise that, but I absolutely do, and did. That’s the middle of the Wheel. No pods. No Wheel rim. That’s the bit around which the Wheel rotates and from which the spokes radiate. I have never observed this effect before.

I am beginning to get less hostile about everyone besides me calling the Wheel the London “Eye”. This is because of certain puns that only work if it’s the Eye. Eye shadow. Eye pods. Change it back to Wheel, and those two don’t work, and there are surely more Eye something or something Eye things to enjoy, if only I could think of any.

Dramatic sky behind Parliament

Indeed. Photoed by me late this afternoon:

I photoed lots more photos today, but I also did a lot more walking today than I’ve been doing lately, and having, as I do, the choice between doing a long posting and going to bed quite late, and doing a short posting and going to bed sooner rather than later, I choose the latter.

I now intend (although I promise nothing) that more will follow about today’s excursion, including mention of the dramatic weather which caused that dramatic sky, and which caused me to be out photoing it.

Structural glass

I bang on here a lot about the use by the latest wave of modernist architects of glass, most recently in this posting. And of course there is the way that glass now fills modern life with multiple and complex reflections.

Well here is another glass based posting, this time featuring some techies who are concerned with the ever more impressive structural qualities of glass. Basically, they want to make a entire footbridge out of the stuff:

That’s it really. The details of what these particular techies are doing to the particular sort of glass they are playing around with are not my point, although the last thing I’d want to do is try to stop you pursuing this matter by reading everything at the other end of the second link above, if that’s what you now want to do. What is my point is that nobody in the glass business would be in the least bit surprised to be told about such a research effort. Making glass stronger? But of course.

Glass used to be the very definition of fragile. Not any more. The only place glass still shatters at all regularly, spewing bits in all directions, is in the movies. Try running through a big window in real life, and it will be a similar experience to running into a wall. The main difference is that you’ll probably bounce back rather more. Glass does that these days, for the same reason trees have always bent in the wind. (A fact which can do wonderful things with those reflections.)

An Uber boat but not a real Uber boat

I have recently recognised a particular sort of BMNB posting, which is a response to a story from some time ago, which I had permanently open. I didn’t know why I was intrigued by the story, which is why I did no blogging about it, but I was intrigued nevertheless, which is why I refused to forget about it.

Here is one such story, concerning Uber boats in London. And there was a photo to go with this story that I particularly liked:

That story and photo appeared on August 3rd. I think what I liked about this story was simply that I liked that photo, with its splendid Docklands towers, recent and not so recent.

On August 16th, I was over in that part of London, and while beside the River that day, I managed to grab a photo of one of these Uber boats, with a result that wasn’t as good as the above photo, but which does at least confirm that the City AM story is really happening and not something they merely passed on, which someone had adorned with a piece of photoshopping. There are now Uber boats in London:

Same part of London in my photo, as I say, but less showy buildings in the background. Also, my lighting was more lugubrious.

However, these boats are not what I’d call real Uber boats. They are merely Uber adverts. What Uber have done is a sponsorship deal, with the people who already drive these boats back and forth along the River. They aren’t adding anything aside from some cash, in exchange for Uber being painted on the side of the boats.

Real Uber boats would be boats you could personally summon with your mobile phone. They’d be small, fast, and there’d be lots of them. Fat chance of that happening any time soon.

All of which reminds me of a story I once read about a British aristocrat, circa 1920, which is based on the same sort of contrast, between what these Uber boats suggest that they might be, and the humdrum fact of what they really are. The Aristo was told by one of his senior underlings that he needed to tighten his belt and cut the household budget. A number of economies were tentatively suggested, including the idea that His Lordship might perhaps consider using fewer taxis, and instead travelling more often by omnibus. Said the Aristo: “Good idea! Have one sent round in the morning.”

London sunset – August 2016

Now, a London sunset photoed in 2016 starts to mean more, metaphorically, than it did, literally, at the time:

In 2016, this was just another evening with great lighting effects. But is there about to be a metaphorical sunset for London on a far greater scale?

Once again, cranes. And I love how the evening sun turns boring blocks into giant gold bars.

But will London go on being golden? Just how bad will the reckoning be, when the problem stops being how to end Lockdown and becomes how to pay the bill for Lockdown. I don’t doubt London’s future greatness. But how long will it take for that to become clear to all?

The first Lockdown I could take, given that I and most of my friends could just about afford to take it. The next one, the one now being threatened, is far more depressing to even contemplate, given than it has no business happening at all, and given that the people presiding over the current scaremongering are the very ones we will be depending on to get us back on track.

The City Cluster – 2009 – 2015 – 2020

Left to right, 2009, 2015, 2020:

2009: Buildings and cranes.

2015: More buildings. More cranes.

2020: Just buildings. No cranes.

For now, I reckon it’s finished. Not finally finished, you understand. Just finished for now.

Michael Jennings London photos

I have done a lot less photo-wandering of late than I would have liked, so I have kept meaning to post a Michael Jennings London photo here, to fill that gap here. But, I’ve never quite got around to doing this. Time to correct that, with a gallery of some of his recent photos, as already shown by Michael, one at a time, on Facebook:

The same circumstances that have had me staying at home more than usual have caused Michael to be staying in London more than usual.

All of the above were photoed, I believe, with a mobile phone, during the late afternoon or evening, that being an interesting time of day for light, especially when natural light and artificial light are about even in strength. (Is that why it’s called “evening”? Could be.) This also accounts for the predominantly sepia colouring that one normally associates with nostalgia-prompting photos of times long gone.

Will there be nostalgia for Lockdown, if and when it ever ends? Probably yes, on the same principle that some people, for accidental reasons, remember WW2 with some fondness, in among all the grief and stress. Many will remember liking the peace and quiet, even as they realise that it could not be allowed to last. Michael himself has spoken to me of the cleanness of the air. Not least because it allows photoing to be better.

Colourful buildings in Leyton High Road

Memo to self, check this out:

This is the work of Camille Walala (who also did all this), and it’s Walala Parade.

The Londonist reporter is very right when he put, right underneath the above photo, these words:

Step onto Leyton High Road in east London, and you may think you’ve walked onto the set of a kids’ TV show.

The relationship between changes in childhood imagery and subsequent changes in the world of design and architecture is an under-explored subject, in my opinion.

In which connection, see also, this.

Like it or hate it (and I quite like it), the future of architecture is going to be more colourful.