My Very Own Italian Summer

Having recently begun working for an architectural practise within the colourful expanse of the South Croydon cafe and restaurant district, it was only natural that I found myself spending cycle rides to and from work being distracted by the animated streetscape and lunch times being occupied with wondering the local area with colleagues in search of places to eat and drink. Needless to say, it has not taken me long to decipher that what I am enjoying most about the local area is the predominantly independent community that exists here, both the people and businesses. The constant flow of vans unloading their goods and buses unloading their people makes for an energetic local urban environment helping the street front and internal elements blend together into a welcoming urban theatre.

As well as a local convenience shop that sells Old Jamaica Ginger Beer, owned by a shop keeper willing to discuss at length with me the flaws in the England batting line up, I have more importantly discovered an amazingly authentic Italian delicatessen. Nestled on the corner of the roundabout that joins Croham Road and Selsdon Road this small deli houses all the character and charm of Italy one can expect to find in the suburban plains of South Croydon, and on a daily basis one can expect to peer in through the windows of this cosy place and see the few tables that are available filled with smiling faces and empty plates.

Upon entering the Deli one is immediately welcomed by the immense wooden detailing of the interior from the floor and furniture, to the trimming finishes that detail the endless shelving filled with all kinds of tempting Italian style treats, such as the panettones that are intriguingly hung from high flying wires. Yet with a floor space of what can only be around 4m by 4m one could easily be forgiven for passing by this place in order to find somewhere more spacious or convenient. The reality is that the atmosphere created from this small internal space is wonderfully familiar, you can comfortably take a seat and enjoy a cup of strong coffee whilst being watched over by the library like shelving and imagine you are back home sitting in your favourite arm chair. The smells of roasting coffee and dressed olives are strong is the deli and I am reminded of the rarity of effective small spaces like this one.

My experience with the architecture of this South Croydon Deli has left me wondering what other small spaces lie primarily undiscovered in our town, and I certainly know I will looking out a lot more closely for these types of spaces in the future. I guess it shows you should never judge a panettone by its box.

tW

Matthews Yard, The Last Craftsman

I walk into Matthew’s Yard from the biting October cold with my cycling hat still firmly in place, a habit I have enforced upon myself since my girlfriend made it perfectly clear that it made me look like an idiot, but I love it so the hat stays. Tea bought and a seat found, I finally remove the hat and nervously open my sketchbook. As well as the architecture blog, this is another fragment of my life that I have neglected over the last six months and, as a result, have forced myself recently to correct that failing.

It also turns out that I have not been back to Matthew’s Yard since the bustling grand opening back in April, and although the general layout remains roughly the same as when I last saw it, all the animated and distinctive character that I got a glimpse of on that night has now thoroughly embedded itself within the internal space. Sitting comfortably in the large cafe space one can observe straight away that by making both resourceful and aesthetic use of materials at their simplest form the tactile experience of Matthew’s Yard has been made to feel very homely. By resisting the urge to completely clad every wall, and paint every soffit, the building’s age and beauty is allowed to intertwine with the fresh furniture and industrial fittings that have been employed throughout the space.

The bar is undoubtedly the golden lamp in the room, a vast ten metre pleasantly crafted wooden mass that stands as a foundation for the many pieces of equipment that steam, bang and hiss as they produce their many cups of coffee and other delights. To further add to the character of the bar is the fact that it was cut and erected on site, by hand, by one man. This kind of dedication to a single element of a new build is a rare thing to witness, especially with so many interior design products being available so easily and quickly that with just a few clicks of a mouse or pages turned of a catalogue you can fit out almost any space. However, inside Matthew's Yard you discover the opposite, finding yourself constantly entertained by the delights of such honest things as industrial light fittings, chalkboards and stripped timber flooring, all reminders of the many hands and minds who helped craft this space into what it is, a community hub.

For Matthew’s Yard, however, this kind of dedication and cooperation is not only built firmly into the architecture, but is all part and parcel of the overall operation. At almost any time of the day one can observe people from all walks of life who spend their time organising or socialising within the spaces that Matthew’s Yard has to offer, whether it is someone emailing their friends in far off places or a book club meeting. Being what could be the friendliest 'big' space in Croydon, people appear to treat this establishment as their second home. The precedent Matthew's Yard has set for rejuvenating disused spaces within Croydon is unparalleled, and clearly the straightforward idea of combining a relaxing social environment with a flexible working space has been wonderfully achieved. So surely more projects similar to this can and should begin to appear throughout Croydon, are not the urban and social benefits distinctly evident?

I am sure the lone worker who constructed the wooden bar had no idea about the important social and physical example he was laying down that day, but the fruits of his labour are clear to see and I can only hope it continues to influence the internal space and the new, inspired community that seems to be growing around it everyday.


tW

Romeo, Oh Romeo

The individual characters that we construct from our influences and environments that we interact with everyday, can occasionally be observed through the actions we take and the work that we produce. This phenomenon can be seen occasionally through product design or (if you are lucky) possibly even the occasional piece journalism, but is frequently seen throughout the architectural world. A building, space or whole urban environment can be suddenly uplifted by a single aspect that reveals a genuine glimpse of the designers energy and desire.

Recently I happened to be waiting for the bus on Katherine Street, standing as per usual underneath the uneventful and quite frankly boring office block that hangs lazily over the area around St. Georges Walk like a concrete pig. Yet whilst scanning the buildings facade for some signs of hideous prefabricated detailing I found myself drawn to a set of segmented circular balconies fixed into one of the corner junctions of this urban giant. These balconies which sit quietly within the grasp of the main office block, yet have no access to them are quite literally useless to the function of the building, so what is the purpose, the reason for even being there?

Personally, I romantically want to believe that the architect of this repetitive office based building simply could not leave this particular corner untouched, unborn even. That this particular creative self having been trained and encouraged to enhance space and beautify things just had to do something with this corner, other than a simple ninety degree continuation. Obviously it is not the best balcony or even detailing you have ever seen but the simple fact that someone attempted to transform this building into something more than it was going to be is surely thought for hope.

tW

The Prince's Picture House

Unlike the weather over the last couple of weeks a month ago saw the blissful reemergence of the sun for a brief period, and with this effect came football in the park, intermittent bbq's and for myself a fresh observation of Croydon's urban layering and another subject to write about. It is strange what specific aspects of architecture are suddenly made obvious simply because they become draped in sunlight.

Allow me to set the scene, and a very familiar scene at that.

Walking through Croydon's high street and even down the smaller side streets, which arguably hold the most interesting shops and ventures to be found, you are visually bombarded by the various fonts, images and colours of the shop signs and window displays. This deliberate marketing technique which tries ever so desperately to gain your attention through high contrast and visual noise generates an incredible distraction for the brain, usually resulting in a lack of interest in the happenings above the longitude of the shop signs. Yet above this level is an equally sized area of rich historical context most likely a result of modern business having little to no interest in the goings on at this level, which is actually great news for anyone infused with architecture.

There are many small architectural wonders to be found at this level and unfortunately I do not have time to go through them all and in a way I would not want to either as this action would most likely take the fun out of the discovery itself not just for me but for everyone else. Nevertheless, one section of the High Street deserves individual discussion because of its unique past function and contrast in age and aesthetics to its immediate context. A small section of the Prince's Picture House, an old cinema built in 1921, still sits curiously above the current O2 phone shop boasting its arabic-esque appearance amongst the many contemporary glass-facades of neighbouring buildings, such as that of Pret A Manger. All you have to do is look above the shop signage and immediately you notice the transition of both material and form into a completely different building, in fact on a good day if you open your imagination and block the lower section of your vision with your hand to leave only the arches and onion dome of the tower, you could be anywhere in the world. Although this piece of architecture is obviously copying a form and order that is usually implicated at a far grander scale and lavishness it is still a rare and beautiful thing to have right in the middle of a commercial district in Western Europe.

What is most amusing about these architectural remnants such as the Prince's Picture House is that in the current age we live in it appears we have a longing for this reach back into history, to combine the contemporary with all the warmth of the past, yet quite often it is all right up there already for the taking if we just looked upwards. As it stands however there is a literal and physical line drawn between the functions of today and the character of yesterday, almost everything from shop signage downwards is simply about attraction and profit whilst the upper floors, whatever their appearance may be, is usually considered in physical volume alone. In Croydon there exists a great amount of interesting architecture above street level especially around the Old Town area, but I am not suggesting a complete re-habitation of these elements, just a wider realisation and understanding of its existence to better influence development of the town.

tW

Beneath the Concrete Beast

Venturing around and between the heights and subways of Croydon you can find many vibrant social spaces where you can do almost anything from enjoying the simple pleasure of a warm cup of coffee to playing a game of chess, yet there are some spaces that are so dramatic in scale they seem to blur into the surrounding urban landscape. Quite often these spaces do not appear to play a leading role in our everyday lives simply because their functions are not as pronounced as their counterparts, but performing what is without question a humble role these spaces are both important and beautiful.

Surprisingly, car parks are frequently good examples of such spaces and the Wandle Road Car park located underneath the Croydon Flyover is Croydon's very own. Drive to this space, park your car in this space and make your way into Croydon like most people and chances are you will not notice the enormous environment that is actually surrounding you. However, go during the middle of the day when the cars sit static like a multi-coloured metallic carpet and you can really appreciate the full majesty of the space that exists here. Simultaneously carrying vehicles above and sheltering them below, to perform the former function that is essentially suspending an entire section of road off the ground takes a considerable amount of engineering and material, and what you end up with is a huge raw concrete roof elevated by equally huge concrete columns at visually satisfying regular intervals. Yet to be in this space is to be swallowed up by the mass and shadows that the form presents and in a strange way this in itself creates a comforting feeling like the security of an older brother.

Whilst I happened to be in the belly of the car park I made sure to do the usual architecture student stuff such as kicking surfaces and shouting for echoes to both test the merit of the structure and reinforce the usefulness of my education, the ticket warden stared intently probably through fear more than curiosity but I ignored him and continued my sensual assault on the structure. This soon lead me to conclude that although functioning rather successfully as a car park there is surely a better use for such a large and dramatic space, and if the the town is to rid its parenting of the term 'Croydonisation' then redefining spaces such as the Wandle road Car park as urban social and/or cultural spaces may very well be a positive starting point.

An outdoor cinema/theatre, brewery, open-air restaurant or even a space for car-boot sales, this space would become so much more excitable and useful if it held one of these functions instead of just being car storage, a place of abandonment. Although thinking about it a park would be a fantastic addition in this dense urban area, providing a link between urban Croydon and the greenery of Duppas Hill, with the height of the flyover allowing more than enough light to pass underneath this relatively quiet area located away from the hustle and bustle of the High Street could really benefit from such a refashioning. There is no reason why a rigid concrete car park cannot become a fresh green space or exciting temporary cinema in the summer months, all that is required is the belief and the understanding that these changes may just improve our experience of the town we live in. So when the time is right I applaud you to go stand in the strange comfort of this car park beneath the concrete beast, and join me in quietly imagining an alternative future.

tW

YOURCODENAMEIS:IYLO

If you happen to glance over the platforms at West Croydon station you will notice a piece of fairly contemporary architecture, discarded by modern economics and politics, a relic of its own time, the IYLO building.

Cemented in the company of the residential void between Croydon and Selhurst in the middle of what is essentially a roundabout this hollow concrete shell of a structure nestles quietly among the columns of terraced housing that permeate outwards in all directions. Having asked a few people about the building in general I was informed by a friend that the developers funding the IYLO project had begun construction, laying the foundations and erecting almost the entire core concrete structure only to find themselves bankrupt and unable to commit to finishing the project, leaving the architecture veiled by an incomplete glass curtain wall that gives an immense ghostly presence over the surrounding area.

In a move away from other high-rise residential developments in Croydon at the time IYLO was located away from the area around East Croydon, which consists of existing buildings with functions and aesthetics like that of the IYLO, choosing instead a plot of vacant land further north along Wellesley Rd amongst houses and schools. As with the majority of modern developments of this scale the ground floor was essentially outlined for retail purposes, coffee shops and delicatessens presumably to fuel the anticipated upper-middle class residents, with the floors vertically beyond that assigned to a high-rise style of living. The basic principals enforced to create this style of development are solid, discover land not being utilised, build upwards to make full use of the space and maintain community connection at ground level by use of public space and commercial property. But it just seems too simple, too text book even? This urban formula, if it can be called that, can be applied to any style of development anywhere in the UK and this is where the idea falls short. The local context and environment needs to be considered in far greater detail than is often the case, and the fact that more housing is required and precedent exists for the programme model does not simply mean this solution can, and should be applied ubiquitously.

Now the lifeless grey mass of a structure that slouches sadly against the Wellesley Rd today, and which has done so for long over a year now, acts a message to the local community and more importantly the community of Croydon that at the heart of many of these 'modern' developments is a method and scale of construction that is outdated and damaging. That said, I do hope that the IYLO project is eventually adopted and completed in the near future as its continued existence as a skeleton of a building will only damage the urban grain further. Lessons can and have to be learnt from the mistakes made at the IYLO project, especially mistakes that would have been forgotten had the project not been cut short like it was. Should we not at least consider the restoration and improvement of neglected existing housing stock, structurally sound and already integrated into the urban grain, rather than continually venturing into bold new plans?

tW

By the Warmth of the Refrigerator Light

In this short piece of literature I wish to draw attention to a piece of architecture, not by merit of its outward aesthetic nor of its intriguing form of which it has neither, but because of its functional position it holds within Croydon.

I am of course referring to the Mediterranean Food Centre II, and of course I expect only a small fraction of people to have knowledge of where this social pillar of a business is situated. Allow me to enlighten. As you make your journey through the chaotic flow of Surrey St Market, limbs of colourful stalls and air flaked with mysterious scent one quite often fails to observe the shop fronts hidden behind this temporary daily facade of the market. Only during the evening hours and into the night can one begin to gain an idea of the kind of goings on that operate within these walls.

During the early hours of the night when the majority of Surrey Street's operations are static, like a gentle beacon the artificial refrigerator lights of the Mediterranean Food Centre II reach out onto the tough surface of Surrey St, guiding the people of Croydon to a place to buy that much needed extra packet of rizla or can of redbull. Whilst most of the town has turned its back on the populace of Croydon by this time, leaving the operations of the night to the pub-landlords and bouncers, this small business continues to operate providing the hungry, gasping and tired of some escape. There is no denying that this place is no Guggenheim or Sydney Opera House but the function of the business is solid and many a time I have visited this place between pubs and bus stops, and no matter how many times I continue to visit I can safely say I will never tire from the pleasure of seeing the glow of the Mediterranean Food Centre II sign.

tW

Baskets for Hanging

Last Friday, after receiving an email inviting me to public consultation of Croydon's Old Town I found myself in a little known area of town just off of Surrey St Market known as Matthews Yard. A few balloons, flags on string and a selection of large question and answer post-it-note boards indicated I was at the right location, but as is the primary draw back of this space the paths down to it are pinch points off of Surrey St Market too narrow and over-shadowed, an issue I will come back to later.

Nonetheless I was excited to see what urban formulas were anticipated for the future both by the local planning department and the local community, and I was not to be disappointed. As is required these days I grabbed myself a black coffee, choosing not to take a saucer, and got stuck right in to deciphering the comments and suggestions from the local residents about how to improve the reputation and aesthetic of Croydon's old Town. By now I had clearly observed that I was by far the youngest attendee at the event with the remainder mostly constructed of the older generation of market stall owners and retired local residents, however this was an issue I had expected and so I committed early on in the day to extracting the most out of this situation.

A quick glance over the suggestion boards, and I had a clear indication of what I was going to be battling against, the dreaded Hanging Basket. Much loved by the older generation of almost any British town the hanging basket is a classic solution to nothing, I fully understand the appeal by which it provides colour and nature to its surrounding but that is where the improvement ends, and of course councils latch on to the idea like a mad scientist going about hanging baskets off any over-hang they can lay their hands on. In my books, and I will be brutally honest, the hanging basket is simply a filler idea for the weak and lost and an idea that is passable only in conjunction with other changes. If real progress is to be achieved it is surely by way of bolder ideas of an original nature that are both encouraged and understood, one has only to look at the work of such young practices as VisionDivision (Stockholm) and ZED Factory (London) to see the beautiful potential in urban futures.

For a cultural centre to succeed at Matthews Yard and Croydon on a wider context the local planning department and residents are going to have to accept ideas and suggestions from a younger generation who experience, fuel and understand spaces of Croydon that the older generation do not, but first they must honestly listen. Then a real connection and comprehension can be achieved, decisions can be made sensibly and contextually and ideas such as hanging baskets off of walls can be limited to a scale that is appropriate. The youth of Croydon should not be afraid to say what they believe and the older generation should not be fearful of hearing it.

tW

Sugar Coated

In the age we live in it is sadly becoming decreasingly surprising to turn a corner of an area we are deeply comfortable in and discover a new development of a monstrous scale that we have never before been aware of, and like two ruthless blows from a shotgun this is exactly what has happened to me over roughly the last month.

As if abstracted from a scene in the famous War of the Worlds film, two new pieces of architecture located on the Northern end of Wellesley Rd. and Fell Rd, which arguably border on being in themselves a development, have landed in Croydon ready to force attention and generate yet more fresh and unnecessary scars on the land. The absolute principal consideration for myself when observing these new urban additions to Croydon's urbanscape is not the function of/or design (although both should be heavily considered in order for architecture to progress!), but the long-term impact the materials, processes and scale of construction will have on the town both physically and socially.

The first example of these new UFO structures is the new Croydon council building on Fell Rd, the basic form is staggered in three stages by addressing the flyover at its highest point and then continuing to sympathetically step down to the height of Croydon Town Hall. First impressions undeniably incline towards the modern and beautiful with the sky seemingly invited to street level by the reflections off the facades and generous entrance spaces. Yet what is most striking about the buildings design is the exhausting use of glass, far in excess of what would actually be resourceful and/or appropriate there is the first external skin connected to the structure to make it weather tight and then a second skin hung off of the first to act as what can only be a massive glass anorak. So although I also believe that the new council building may turn out to be the saving grace of a few park spaces and streets around this area that were socially dead before, we as a community must decide whether it was the correct decision to tear down the existing concrete building that stood here before just to replace it with another concrete building?

The behemoth scale ground floor pillars that touch the earth like a giants hands are the foundations of a new architecture currently being constructed on Wellesley Rd, the second and last example. The basis of this construction is a mixed use development contained within an intriguing form with an addition of car park spaces, all constructed once more out of concrete. With the need for more apartment style housing that is both interesting and intriguing it is again not the function or form of this particular project that I have issue with, it is the connection with society and the existing context. Take a walk along Wellesley Rd and passed this development and you will soon feel within yourself the unmissable presence of those ground floor columns rising up around two to three stories, is this scale of design and construction really necessary, a case of form over function? Nevertheless, what can be learnt from this architectures design is the courage to address the harshness that is the Wellesley Rd, whilst so many buildings in East Croydon have turned their back on this piece of problematic infrastructure in the past, this young building attempts the unthinkable.

When large-scale architectures land in an already complicated urban cocktail of a town such as Croydon it can be only too easy for not only the architects and planners but also local inhabitants to begin to see the development though a restricted scope and drift away from what is ultimately their context and environment. The immense glass facades of these contemporary boxes with their sugar-coated taste of the marketing and visualisations is hard to resist and of course these things are designed to win over the hearts and minds of the local community, but we must always remember that the initial sweet and joyful taste of these architectural cupcakes will inevitably become waste at the days end.

tW

Fell rd.

Wellesley rd.

Corinthian Cantilever

The English Summer is approaching, and once again I increasingly begin to find myself either playing cricket and batting for my life or sitting outside on the patio drinking coffee and pondering what exactly to do next. The latter of which I am thankfully partaking in as I write this entry.

The Summer period and the sunshine that arrives with it almost never fails to create a new platform on which to view our surrounding architecture, as it does in a similar way towards woman when the dresses turn into an explosion of colour and lightness, and revealing more than usual I dare say. In an almost identical move the materiality and form of our surrounding architecture is also revealed in a new dimension with its play alongside the sun as it hangs higher in the sky allowing the light to slice and exaggerate corners and curves that were never before apparent, allowing them to enter into their full aesthetic and/or functional glory.

One such example of this theatrical summer expression is the cantilevered canopy associated with the office building on the Dingwall Rd known as Corinthian House. Extruded over the main entrance of the building is an unmissable gargantuan beast of a cantilever with the title 'Corinthian House' delicately grasping onto the very edge of this urban umbrella, in no way an exaggeration if one is to view the building from a satellite view you can clearly make out the cantilever escaping the building. Residing in East Croydon it is not too surprising that such a striking architectural detail exists, being surrounded by other corporate architecture and aesthetic preferences in this area of town makes for strong competition and an increasing feeling for the need to be considered and approved. Were as this situation usually creates over-sized aggressive architecture where the choice of form and material is often highly questionable, at Corinthian House the form and function of the cantilevered canopy both come across as well considered. The thin white profile of the canopy creates a wafer like appearance off of the bulk mass of the concrete building encouraging intrigue and question from visitors, whilst receiving appreciation for the function of protection from the elements all the way to the pavement and onward travel. The apparent structural defiance of the canopy is beautifully crafted and ultimately achieved, but it is such a shame that being so off of any main network full appreciation of its form fulls far short of what should be expected.  

tW

A Fresh Shape Up

Last night whilst I was in Croydon drinking a few beers and continuing to drag my hearing closer to an untimely death in the Black Sheep Bar, I noticed that the graffiti smiley-face ball that used to be on the zebra crossing outside was now within the confines of the sheep. A shame that this amusing chap cannot continue to brighten up mine and possibly a few other peoples week with its mixed embedded message of happiness and disorder, but I guess the dub-step coffin of the Black Sheep Bar is a far more suitable location for this small piece of Croydon culture than the local landfill.

tW

Last one out of Wellesley Road, burn it to the ground!

Two weeks ago I had the great pleasure of consuming a cup of coffee whilst discussing the present and future of Croydon with James Naylor, a local young gentlemen who has successfully imagined Croydon Tours a company where an insight into 'the most interesting town in Britain' is available. No longer will visitors simply be muscled out of East Croydon station and then left to their own devices, a genuine and insightful tour of Croydon is there for the taking.

So, like a bull to a matador I took the opportunity before I met James to visit the area of town opposite the Whitgift Centre across the Wellesley Road desert in an attempt to find more forgotten or never fully appreciated architecture. A great deal of time passed by with me walking in the company of the many corporate office buildings with their monstrous glass facades and columns in an attempt to be individual, yet I strongly began to feel the full effect of being in an area of town that is so centred on the business and financial operations of the world, that its architecture tries so desperately to escape the reality of its monotonous operations but ends up only looking less unique and more and more like each other. However,  like so much of Croydon that is now dedicated to commercial operations this slice of the urban landscape used to be a bustling residential are, so if you happen to turn down Walpole Rd you will encounter The Old House, a relic from times past.

Although the Old House is now used as office space, the story goes that an elderly woman lived at this address during the period when big business was moving in and setting up shop in this area of Croydon and having bought or bullied out all the other residents in the area the only person left was this elderly woman who successfully avoided relocating and lived in this house till her time was up. As can be seen today the new development of the area still went right ahead and the people at the top decided simply to construct their concrete children and tarmac carpets around this stubborn property, creating a remarkable contrast between the familiar human-scaled brick of the Old House and the oppressive and unimaginative human-cog architecture of the surrounding commercial development. It could be argued that right now the Old House stands predominantly as a monument to the anti-capitalist and the down-right necessity to stand up to power-hungry developers, an ideal that this humble piece of architecture achieves far more effectively than the 2011 Croydon riot ever did.

tW

Croydon and the Postmodern 3

Almost as if life-long brothers, one can argue that Iconography and Architecture have walked hand-in-hand for as long as the art of building a roof over ones head has existed, or ever since we left our hunter-gatherer characteristics and learnt to manage the growth of crops. It appears our human desire to indicate certain aspects of culture through the use of architecture is deeply and richly embedded within all corners of human history, effortlessly continuing into the twenty-first century.

London's everyday architectural icons such as the Gherkin (30 St. Mary Axe, Swiss RE Building) or the Shard (32 London Bridge) are well recognised not only in London but internationally, and due to this the design of such architecture can shy away somewhat from the pure function of the building and concentrate on the form and final presence that the architecture gives to the city as an icon. So considering Croydon's significance as the business and transport hub of South London it is unsurprising that like modern London Croydon too has its very own architectural icon, the Fifty-Pence-Piece Building ( No.1 Croydon / Threepenny Bit Building).

The fractured pod-like architecture of the Fifty-Pence-Piece Building sits on its urban throne at the top of East Croydon, but with its moat of transport infrastructure for added defence it can seem rather unwelcoming and difficult to access at first but is well worth the additional adventure. Once underneath you can gaze up at the seemingly countless concrete cantilevers that seem to defy gravity, yet at the same time be absorbed by how ultimately light-weight the structure somehow appears to be, undoubtedly an amazing aesthetic achievement. Unbelievably the heavy concrete floor slabs are wonderfully defied by the apparent external gap between the corner columns, which in such a simple and imperceptible way allow the structure to appear increasingly lighter than it truly is. Without question a talent that most corporate architecture in Croydon could certainly learn from.

I fortunately had the great privilege around two years ago to visit the upper-most floor of No.1 Croydon during an Open House tour that I had attended, operating within the room at the time was the display and marketing for the master-plan of East Croydon depicting colourful and festive futures filled with farmers markets and apartment balconies hoping to generate a better Croydon. However, as I looked out of the window over the vast urban field, looking at the Warehouse theatre and pondering what might happen to this piece of history in the planned Utopian future, I could not help but feel I was already standing in the best space in Croydon.

tW

Croydon and the Postmodern 2

Nestled amongst the towering forest of office blocks and hotels along the leafy path that is the Wellesley Rd you can find some of the most venturesome architecture in Croydon, limbs of the urban environment that have taken on an appearance and aesthetic of their own accord. The monstrous authoritative twins that are Lunar House and Apollo House directly on the Wellesley Rd, which operate as the headquarters of the UK Border Agency, house such an example of Postmodern architectural experimentation.

For the most part architectural inspiration is not plucked out of the air at random but is found through local contextual influence whether it be materiality, traditions or history, however when the decision was made in the late nineteen-sixties to construct Lunar House and Apollo House the primary source of inspiration happened to be the Apollo 11 moon landing. An incredibly bold and unquestionably peculiar direction to take considering the whole 'Space Race' was a cold war playground game between the US and USSR that clearly had nothing to do with Croydon. Nevertheless during this rather ruthless sixties development period, Croydon quite literally was to have a mesmerising architectural experiment crash-land in the middle of town.

Hovering above the ground on what appears to be a concrete cake-stand is a three-story hexagonal extension to the main office building of Apollo House. In what could be seen as a deliberate juxtaposition to the towering right-angled verticality of the office tower this little piece of architecture delicately hovers above street level mimicking what can only be the presence of a UFO. Yet even with this architectures odd shape and position to its context it merges into its urban business landscape with majestic efficiency, hardly noticed as the public go about hopelessly attempting the pass over Wellesley Rd or weave their way through the confusing back streets of East Croydon. So another architecture and another fade to black, but with this example I can not help but feel this is the actual goal all along, not commonly observed, but a lovely piece of architecture to look at.



tW

Croydon and the Postmodern

A few days ago I found myself in that common situation we all find ourselves in at some point during our lives when the title of a song escapes the mind leaving one completely useless for a few moments whilst desperately trying to escape the subconscious cycle of attempted recollection. Which is exactly what unfolded whilst I was trying to remember where I had once seen what could only be described as a provocative postmodern car-park facade in Croydon, a fairly challenging task for one primary reason;

1. There are seven independent multi-story car-parks in central Croydon alone.

As luck and persistence would have it I did manage to stumble my way across this particular facade again, latched onto the side of the AMP Building near East Croydon station. Here the traditional almost endless horizontal elevation of the car-park has been gagged by an edgy and visually distorting moulded concrete element. The acute-angled 'v' shaped elements help generate an alternating opaque and then transparent appearance that is unique and playful, externally one can wonder of the activities and movements that the facade is hiding and internally a secure viewing platform over Croydon's everyday happenings is accessed. I thoroughly enjoy the postmodern interventions that exist throughout Croydon, they create a richness through architectural experimentation that is rarely seen in the awakening new architecture.


tW

Five-a-day

Recently whilst strolling down to the bus stop at the bottom of Church St functioning solely on a caffeine and photoshop diet on the journey home from yet another gruelling studio interim crit at university, I noticed this small green box structure near the Warehouse Theatre that I shamefully must confess I missed on the previous visit. Slap in the face. It was the fruit and veg stall that I had in fact observed a select few times on the way to East Croydon station but had always assumed it was a temporary structure smuggled into this location in the early morning hours to supply the working populace with their five-a-day on the daily pilgrimage to work. As it turns out the Croydon Fruit and Vegetables box is in fact a permanent architectural feature of Dingwall Rd and has been for some time.

I guess the best way to describe this rather juxtaposed green box is like an earring lost within the bedlam of a bedroom, patiently resting in the same lonesome spot amongst the chaos until one day it is found again, like a diamond in the rough. Especially if one considers the future development of the area, which as it stands mainly consists of new glass facade addicted office blocks and housing, Croydon Fruit and Vegetables little addition of playful yet dignified architecture will surely perish. Maybe it could stay? Maybe it could become a glass cube too?

I whole heartily recommend a visit to Croydon Fruit and Vegetables not only for your health but for the opportunity to pause, interact and experience a space that is if anything usually treated as a pedestrian highway with coffee shop service stations. Croydon could really benefit from this type of urban approach by allowing more of these boxes to exist throughout the town, by applying the same structure and perhaps changing the colour of each you can create a theme that eventually becomes opaque in existence and trusted by the community. Would it not be fantastic and exciting to have the pace of life and interaction that exists on Surrey St Market throughout more of Croydon?

The opportunity to promote a healthier lifestyle whilst generating fresh and vibrant urban activity at street level is at hand, and clearly this direction of urban solution is far more important than new office blocks, shopping malls and car parks. Until then this little green box will remain an earring, surrounded by Croydon.


tW

Macbeth (The Warehouse Theatre)

Like a needle in a haystack, occasionally in the world of architecture amid modern societies relentless development one has to look almost beyond the realm of human capability to find a piece of construction worthy of examining and appreciating properly. Similar to that of a train enthusiast Croydon plays with this dilemma with amazing efficiency. Beginning from the towns oppressive East Croydon business district with the Wellesley Road tar covered no-mans-land between it and the town centre, many examples of intriguing and strangely interesting architecture exist within this area of high-rise office blocks and cheap hotels. The friendly warmth of The Warehouse Theatre happens to be just one of these examples.

Chances are you have passed this building many times either on your way to the train station or maybe just getting a coffee at the nearby Cafe Nero or Pret a Manger or Starbucks (the discussion on coffee shop invasions is for another day!), yet its physical existence has simply dissolved into the blurry void of your peripheral vision to become nothing more than another set of bricks in Croydon. This situation should not however be blamed solely on the architecture, its unfortunate location between empty development land and what can only be described as a ripe example of a peculiar 1950's office building does not make for a comfortable situation. However, venture inside The Warehouse Theatre on a cold afternoon when all those coffee shops are like sardine tins and you will be pleasantly surprised to find a cafe inside, which just so happens to be greatly more affordable and one cosy little mother.

Beyond the warmth of the cafe the future for the theatre appears extremely positive on paper with the new East Croydon development incorporating a fresh new space for the theatre to replace the neglected existing building, but I can only see a loss of history. The beauty of The Warehouse Theatre is that the architecture matters none and that it is about the theatrical productions and eccentric characters that are created and portrayed within the space created by the architecture that is of the most importance, perhaps the only importance. Nevertheless it cannot be ignored that the buildings structural and material integrity is obviously as reliable as a investment bankers promise and requires a great deal of attention, but this could easily be achieved with the help of local skills and labour and with some time and coordination a fully revived and Macbeth like architecture would have been created, no, saved.

From previous observation it can safely be assumed that the theatre will nonetheless full into the bloodied hands of the East Croydon development and all we can do is hope that the theatre receives its deserved share of attention and respect. The fear is small but greatly appreciated existing architectures like that of The Warehouse Theatre are often swallowed up and regurgitated somewhere in the forgotten darkness of modern developments, or built last when the money has run dry and never rebuilt at all. If this were to happen to The Warehouse Theatre a daylight urban tragedy would have occurred before our very eyes, and Croydon will at best be left with a bronze plaque stating 'Here lies The Warehouse Theatre'.

tW

Doctor Foster & Partners

It has been a while now, in fact it has been a long while now since I spotted the words 'Foster & Partners' delicately painted on the black site boarding next to East Croydon train station. This large site perched directly next to the railway line has been idle for some time now and the residents of Croydon have seen plenty in the way of poetic master-plans desperately attempting to raise the areas architectural glory to that of Dubai. But only when I was confronted by the name Foster did I become concerned, not even the ridiculous idea of including good old french brasseries to the master-plan could have prepared me for this immense disappointment.

Norman Foster, probably the single most famous living British architect, has found success around the world designing buildings ranging from London's very own phallic giant that is the Swiss RE building to the sensitive Reichstag dome project in Berlin. So the real question, to be thoroughly honest, is what is an architect of Foster's stance and influence, who is currently gunning for permission to design and construct a new London airport in the Thames estuary doing proposing a master-plan for a locally confined area in South London?

It is hard to say for sure, but my guess is experimenting or simply an opportunity to gain more work. With Foster & Partners slaving away night and day on projects like London's new airport, which in reality is a master-plan of East & South-East London, can the practice really apply their best to this redevelopment of just East Croydon? Regrettably I do not think they can. I do not say this simply because Fosters' is a practice of large nature and influence and so is frequently critisised for its proposals of seemingly massive scale and aggressive impact, but more because unfortunately I believe the practice has out-grown this scale of project and consequently can no longer effectively communicate with the local community and social networks, which is so vital in designing a master-plan like that required at East Croydon.

tW

The Cronx

Recently I have discovered a new name being used for Croydon, The Cronx.


The Bronx, one of the boroughs of New York, is undoubtedly where this new name for Croydon has derived from and it is truly brilliant. The Bronx just so happens to be an urban area of New York notoriously associated with a poor quality of life as well as being grossly over populated, the latter arguably leading to the former as is thoroughly explained in Jane Jacobs The Death and Life of Great American Cities, a must read for even the non-architect. So it would seem some what fitting for Croydon to become the Cronx with its reputation as being a poorer place to live and the architectural dumping ground of London. Although I am certain the name Cronx was dreamt up more through the aesthetics of literature rather than due to the similarities with the Bronx, I still think the name is genius and I shall be using this new title on a regular basis as I hope will others. All we can hope for is that the urban situation in the Cronx wont get as desperate as it did in the Bronx.

tW

The Long Walk Home

About two years ago the Walkabout club in Croydon shut its doors and pumps to the public for the last time in what had been a long and confident history. I remember just turning eighteen and going there with friends to experience the legal drinking scene for the first time and falling straight away for the vodka a redbull deals, which inevitably left you waking up at half past five in the morning with a heart like that of a car battery and a headache to match. Needless to say as youth of the early twenty-first century we punished our health and continued this routine for another three years.

But enough with a the drink, what can actually be done about a piece of architecture like Walkabout that had such a specific layout and had spent years spatially evolving like a ninety year old war veteran set in his ways and routine? Furthermore, how can one confidently say they have the answer to the next stage in this architectures life without a second thought for the urban communities need rather than what can simply fit inside the existing space?

As it happens it has been decided that Walkabout has finally matured and the time has come for the space left behind to become victim, like so many of its Croydon brethren, to the blitzkrieg of Poundland architecture. What the bloody hell is going on? The space left behind by Walkabout was one full of character and variation (an aspect generally rarely seen in a Walkabout), with a set of stairs here, a lowered platform and a raised platform there and a room full or railings and columns at the back, a remarkably complete antithesis of Poundland. With its reliance on ninety-degree angles, white-wash walls and the endless aisles of Chinese child-labour filth Poundland will no doubt have the appearance of a silk purse made of a pigs ear. Until Croydon's urban community begins to observe and then deal with this issue of architecture for architectures sake we are going to continue witnessing our urban environment evolving with no soul.

More than what architecture can replace, it is how architecture replaces it.

tW

Photograph / David Cook

Black Sheep

In most peoples everyday blackbook of London, Croydon is known first and foremost for a few simple things; knife-crime, Allders and the Black Sheep bar. Crime, money and alcohol, quite an amazing Achilles heel combination of modern society when you take a step back from it. The knife-crime and Allders part however is ultimately down to ones personal opinion and mine being that I have yet to be stabbed, especially whilst in the death-maze that is the fragrance section of Allders, it is too big. However the Black Sheep bar nestled between corporate offices and a newsagent on the High St is well known by the propane fueled youth of South London and many travel throughout the week by train and the various night buses to soak their teenage angst in snake-bite and jagermeister.

We begin from the entrance doors, there is a bar at the front, three structural columns dividing the following space, then another bar and finally the toilets with trimmings of seating all up the left side and a raised platform with DJ booth on the right. The architecture of the Black Sheep is no doubt fascinating and when one begins to seriously consider the internal spaces and therefore the patterns of movement that are created one can begin to observe this as a reflection of the Black Sheep's elongated yet elementary layout. Flowering from this is a social Eden with each architectural aspect working together to allow for hubs of activity throughout the bar that in turn connect and flourish as the quantity of patrons increases. Almost everywhere in the Black Sheep has purpose you can stand anywhere and you will not feel disorientated, it is an amazing thing to have achieved, even if possibly by accident.

I strongly believe the Black Sheep would be a fascinating experience during the day with all its saucy lights on, a Mies van der Rohe Barcelona chair and a cup of coffee, because I am sure the space dictates differently during the vibrancy of the night. Perhaps the dark corners and crowds though is part and parcel of what makes the Black Sheep appealing, the fact that your spacial judgement and perspective is shrouded by these things and what lies in the depths is up to you alone. So maybe the whole ideology behind the Black Sheep both socially and architecturally is poetic and not prosaic, the idea that anything can be is the mystery and life of the space within.

A great deal of social and architectural changes have infected the Black Sheep bar over the years with many issues being bridged but just as many issues created, which makes guessing the future direction of the bar very difficult. Alas, like a limb being ripped off a movie villain the only suitable way I can see the bar finishing its life in Croydon would be reminiscent of a J.G.Ballard inspired chaotic blowout, the people as Vaughan and the architecture as the car.

tW