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