Skate Hate

 We all remember the 1991 movie Point Break. Swayze, Nixon masks and surfing was the central meat of the story, but deeper down the idea of a group of people with adrenaline on the edge of their breath and a board underneath their feet to do something about it with has for a long time been a dream for many people.

I myself spent a fair amount of time trying to skateboard when I was a teenager and became all too familiar with the rough planes and harsh edges of a South London landscape and many a bruise and graze, scars lovingly given to me from these surfaces, became the majority of my achievements during this period. It was during the short cruises and ollie attempts that I got to know my local suburban environment comprehensively, something I neither appreciated or realised at the time. What would perhaps before have been a characterless surface, suddenly awoke beneath you as the textures ran through the board and into your body as you read and dominated the industrial braille and surfaces, what was once a forgotten element of a bigger architecture suddenly became a platform for your own expression.

Surprising it would seem then that this ideal is widely discouraged, as architects, planners and developers frequently design and detail architecture and urban landscapes to fortify them against the simple act of skating.

Take for example the new Croydon council offices built next to the old establishment at Taberner House, the form is slanted and the appearance is transparent, a classic example of taking a step away from large columns and dominance architecture of old town halls and power houses and instead taking a leap into utilising glass and playing with light to encourage an honest relationship with the public they hope to inspire. An enjoyable piece of architecture, sure, and one would be quite safe in assuming that skaters would not hope for much accomadation out of such a building, but follow the external elevation around to Fell Road and you notice a glimmer of opportunity. Alas, disappointment. For what would otherwise be quite frankly a run of boring planting beds, but a fantastic "grinding" spot for skaters, have been detailed with a large ball bearing pinned at their edges to prevent such shenanigans, which really just begs the question, why go to such lengths to prevent this common recreation?

Rather than embrace the reality that this particular element of design was likely to be adopted and enhanced by skaters for its friendly flat planes, it has been forced to become yet another glorified rubbish bin for people walking to and from East Croydon and Fairfield Halls. There are bigger problems within architectural design than just skaters, like materiality and the modern human scale, yet the skaters seem to always come up against the toughest physical barriers. Good thing then that the skater philosophy has adapted to not care the slightest for architectural rules and regulations, in fact if anything at all the skate hate has grown into a challenge to be won.

tW

...and so, we apologise for nothing (part 1)

When viewed from the relaxing distance of a passing plane heading towards its end at Gatwick you could almost re-imagine Croydon's grey roof-scape as a version of Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam. A bold comparison it could be said, but when the blood between Croydon and London is compared both physically and socially, this bustling south London Town could easily be seen as a metaphorical outstretched arm of its London father, desperately trying to cling to a style of community that reminds it so much of its former self.

As I try to unravel the conversations and experiences I have had in south London, is seems that although most people regard Croydon as being part and the same as London there actually exists a real difference in social thinking and potential between them, an aspect I believe is reflected very clearly through recent urban change. The distance may be a single bus ride between Croydon town centre and somewhere like Elephant a Castle, but as a passenger if you look closely enough you can observe the layers of housing slowly changing to fields of shops, offices and restaurants with apartment blocks proudly rising through them, further segregating work and play. It is this appreciation in change between where people work and live, London coming to be regarded as a centre for work and a place to 'go to' and Croydon more a place where people are 'from' is what I believe is generating the interesting affect on the directions regarding aesthetic and functional values of our built environment.

Central London, where influential and colourful spaces such as Soho and Camden are to be found is a place where fresh adventurous ideas are allowed to be grown and harvested, and as a guest in the city you see it all around you when walking the streets from the boutique pet shops to the cafes and bars of Hoxton, each is an individual piece of the urban puzzle that generates the Metropolitan characteristic of London. Each dusty market and each modern glass coated, cheese grater shaped new kid on the block in this vast city centre appears to integrate so smoothly into its surrounding, and it is this effortlessness that comes from being within central London that is so intriguing on a social scale.

Metropolitan at heart, London is where people generally have less time to waste but more money to spend in clique art cafes and temporary venues for music and film, these spaces are usually well funded and draw a healthy attendance of a critical and alcohol fuelled audience, a sociable and profitable atmosphere for most communities. My theory is however, that a large influence leading to these ventures to be so successful in London is that its audience thoroughly expects them to be a success, rarely questioning the long-term benefits or negatives, subconsciously forcing these spaces to homogenise into the facades and interiors of the local environment. There is no natural progression or right of passage for many of these new additions, they simply function at full power from day one and when the next obsession comes along it is left to disappear into the further expanding brick canvas of London for the next one to try its arm.

It could be said that this process of development is ruthless, but the fruit is so temptingly sweet. Is this just the way of a modern metropolitan position with no realistic alternative, or just maybe there is a priceless architectural and social lesson hidden in the beautifully subtle way a Croydon Urbanity handles the same process?

tW