Category: Urban sketch

Senate House, unfinished courtyard

The original plan, by the architect Charles Holden in 1931, proposed University of London buildings which extended all the way up Malet Street, with 17 courtyards and two huge towers. This plan was revised a number of times, becoming less magnificent with each revision. We are left with just three of the original 17 courtyards, and just one of the towers. What I find interesting is that evidently one of these downward revisions of the magnificence must have occurred rather suddenly, while building was in progress. Here are maps:

  • The current Senate House: 3 courtyards, with the vestiges of a fourth.
  • Location of the Senate House. Sightline of the drawing is in red.

An unfinished fourth courtyard is evident in the fabric of the building, shown in the drawing below. Strange parts of walls just out like ragged lego bricks from the clean white facades. I imagine the construction workers being suddenly told “Stop! We’ve changed our minds about that next courtyard.” And the workers climbed down the ladders and downed their tools, there and then. Eventually grass covered what would have been the courtyard.

The wonderful Senate House library tower is top right. Centre of the picture, either side of the fire escape, are strange unfinished walls, in brick. The grass, dull green in the picture, front centre, is where the courtyard would have been.

I learned about Charles Holden from a walking tour on 5th October 2019, led by Chris Rogers. The title of the walk was “Best Laid Plans….Uncompleted London 1925-1995”. Chris Rogers is a writer and speaker on architecture, film, and on architecture in film. His website is here: http://www.chrismrogers.net. It was Chris Rogers who led us to the place where I made this drawing. He drew my attention to the startling unfinished walls in this otherwise polished building. My thanks to him and to the Twentieth Century Society for organising the walk.

Holden’s plan for the site was abandoned in 1937. The main tower is 210 feet high “at that time [1937] the tallest building in the capital after St Paul’s” comments Chris Rogers. He also points out that the upper floors of the tower were for the book stacks of the library “the London Building Act forbidding permanent occupation of any part of a building over 100 feet in height for fire safety reasons.” The laws were first initiated after the Great Fire of London, and subsequently modified, with sections being repealed, modified and replaced with Building Regulations.

If you want to, you can walk right underneath the tower, West-East from Malet St to Russell Square. Although it looks private, it is a public route. No-one stopped me as I wandered through with my backpack, looking for this vista to draw. It’s worth going through, as you catch a glimpse of the interior.

As I was drawing the picture, two construction workers stopped and admired the picture. Given their trade, I thought they might be interested in the reason why I was drawing here and the story of the unfinished courtyard. They knew it already. Yes, they said, there was going to be two towers. We agreed it was still a magnificent building. “But inside, ” they told me, “it’s all been ripped out.” I was interested. “Yes,” they continued, “all the sinks and taps, all taken out.” With a hand gesture, they conveyed the former beauty of the Art Deco bathroom fittings, marble floors, decorated tiles. “It’s like an airport terminal in there now,” they said, with resignation and sadness. I knew exactly what they meant.

The drawing took 2 hours. Here are some photos of work in progress, and the lettering from the top of the drainpipe.

  • Work in progress, pen and ink stage
  • Pen and ink stage, on the pavement.
  • Drawing kit. The black book (lower left) is for me to sit on.
  • Coloured on location. Thanks to a passer-by for holding the book.
  • What it says at the top of the drainpipe.

Barts Square, Butchers’ Hall

Continuing my exploration of Barts Square, EC1, today I drew Butchers’ Hall.

Butchers’ Hall, 87 Bartholomew Close, EC1
Map showing sightline of drawing.
Butchers’ Hall outlined in yellow.
1. The Levett Building, 2. Percival House
3. Fenwick House, 4. 90 Bartholomew Close
5. One Bartholomew, 6. Hogarth House,
7. Dominion House, 8. Abernathy House
9. The Askew Building, 10 The Underwood Building
11. Vicary House.

Butchers’ Hall is the building with the arched windows, in the centre left of the picture. It is the headquarters of The Worshipful Company of Butchers. This livery company is very old, the Arms were granted in 1540 and the charter by James I in 1605. The current hall is surprisingly new: built in 1960, and refurbished in 2015-2019. The mansard roof, just visible in grey at the top of the hall, was completed in 1996.

On the left the red brick building is 90 Bartholomew Close, which is offices. In the background is Percival House, residential flats built as part of the Barts Square development. Behind the tree is a building site. People are still working on other residential blocks in this development.

All was going well until
the delivery van arrived…

I drew this picture from beside a tree in the middle of the square, as you see from the map above. It was extraordinarily cold. There was slight rain, or more likely sleet. So after the pen-and-ink stage, I beat a retreat to the warmth of the café “Halfcup” to do the colouring indoors. They kindly found me a table with a view in approximately the right direction. All was going well until the delivery van arrived.

I peered round the edges of the van and surprised other guests in the restaurant by pacing erratically to get a better view. Then the van driver completed their deliveries and drove off. I worked quickly in case another van appeared.

Here is work in progress and a bigger map. Thank you to the staff of Halfcup who made me very welcome and brought hot tea to thaw out my hands.

  • Pen and ink outdoors
  • The unobstructed view from Halfcup
  • Work in progress indoors
  • Map showing the sightline of the drawing
  • “Thou hast put all things under his feet, all sheep and oxen”. Arms of the Worshipful Company of Butchers.

Drawing took about 2 hours. Main colours used: Phthalo Turquoise (W&N), Mars Yellow (DS), Burnt Umber (DS), Perinone Orange (DS), Naples Yellow Red (R). The sky is the Phthalo Turquoise and Burnt Umber, very dilute. Blue and brown make grey.

I sketched in Barts Square yesterday as well:

Barts Square, West side

Today I went to try out “Halfcup”, a new coffee place which has opened on Bartholomew Close. It’s part of the new “Barts Square” development. These are new buildings in an area that was previously St Bartholomew’s Hospital. Some of the external features of the original hospital buildings have kept, as you see in the…

Barts Square, West side

Today I went to try out “Halfcup”, a new coffee place which has opened on Bartholomew Close. It’s part of the new “Barts Square” development. These are new buildings in an area that was previously St Bartholomew’s Hospital. Some of the external features of the original hospital buildings have kept, as you see in the centre and right of the drawing.

Looking west across Bartholomew Square, through the window from Halfcup

The building at the back, with the tall windows, is the existing Bartholomew’s Hospital, new building. The building on the right has a restaurant, “Lino”, on the ground floor, and offices above.

Here are some pictures of the drawing in progress, and a photo of a map provided by the Barts Square development.

  • Coffee at Halfcup: it looks good and tasted amazing
  • As well as coffee they had some amazing variants which I have not (yet) tried.
  • Work in progress: pan and ink stage
  • Work in progress: adding colour
  • This blue sign inside the cafe was reflected in the window
  • Here’s a map showing where Barts Square is.

The drawing took 1hour50mins. The main colours are: Phthalo turquoise(W&N), Burnt Umber (DS), with Perinone Orange (DS) and Mars Yellow (DS) for the “Lino” brick building.

Phoenix Picture House, Oxford

Here is a view looking south down Walton Street, from The Jericho Café, Oxford.

Phoenix Picture house, from The Jericho Café

It was raining outside. People peered in through the windows. One person actually came inside the café to look at my picture. Or maybe it was to escape temporarily from the rain. They looked at the picture, in any case, and made cheerful and encouraging comments. Then they went out in the rain again.

The Phoenix Picture house is a cinema. On the left is The Jericho Tavern, a pub and music venue.

Here is work in progress on the picture, and a map. As you see, Jericho is on the fringes of the map. The Jericho Cafe is at the junction of Observatory Street (off the top of the map) and Walton Street. This map is out of date. The place labelled “Radcliffe Infirmery” (top left) has now been redeveloped as the Radcliffe Observatory Quarter. On this site are the Mathematical Institute (opened in 2013) and the Blavatnik School of Government (opened in 2015). You can walk through the site to the Woodstock Road, past the Radcliffe Observatory which has the signs of the zodiac carved around it, including a realistic large-size crab.

  • Location of The Jericho Café and Phoenix Picture house circled in red.
  • Work in progress on the picture, in The Jericho Café. Picture took about 1hr30min. Two colours: Phthalo Turquoise (W&N) and Burnt Umber (DS)

I was also practising drawing people.

  • In the delayed train.
  • A woman on the train.
  • A woman reading the newspaper.

Basel, February 2020

In the streets of Basel, you can hear your own footsteps.

There are fountains.

Gemsberg, Basel Old Town, 7″ x 10 ” on Fabriano Artistico paper, [sketchbook 6]

In the hour and half that it took me to draw this picture, people made use of the fountain. Someone came out of one of the adjacent houses and filled a watering can. A woman helped a child to stand on the white marble edge and then to walk cautiously on the iron bars across the water. The child dipped her hands in the flowing water and drank. She played with the water that came from the spouts. Then the woman and the child returned to their bicycles, and continued their ascent of the hill. Elderly people, climbing the hill, paused here to rest. A runner lent over the water and sluiced his face, before pacing on up the slope towards me.

This part of town is very old. Basel has the fine custom of telling you a little about each street, on the street sign. The one for Gemsberg says:

“Zum Gemsberg, 1661 erstmals erwähnter Hausname”

So this street was named after a house which stood here in 1661. [German speakers reading this: please correct me if I got that wrong!]

The house on the right has an inscription in magnificent script. My German-speaking consultant enables me to state with some confidence that this reads as “In 1563 [this house was created] by joining together two houses: “To the Fridberg” and “To the Slifstein”, both mentioned in 1300-1322″

“Fridberg” might mean “Tranquil mountain” and “Slifstein” might mean polishing stone, or polished stone. Perhaps these were people’s names. I learned at the Basel Paper Mill that in those times smooth stones were used to polish paper, so may be Herr or Frau Slifstein was a paper polisher. But that’s just surmise.

Caption beneath a reproduction of a glazing hammer, Basel Paper Mill.

Here’s work in progress on the drawing.

Later I tackled a tough assignment: Basel Cathedral, “Basler Münster”.

Basler Münster, West Front, 7″ x 10 ” on Fabriano Artistico paper, [sketchbook 6]

This is a magnificent medieval construction, the present building dates from about 1500. It is a real challenge for the Urban Sketcher. Each edge is decorated. Each corner hosts a saint, or often two. Every planar surface has decoration, low relief, a statue. Not content with simply a sundial, they added also a clock. And on top of all this, the two towers are by no means identical. They each support a forest of spires, some octagonal. The main spire on the right seems to have curving edges, unless that was a cunning optical illusion. Even the roof is decorated with a pleasing coloured diamond pattern in tiles. I did my best, but those medieval stonemasons got the better of me.

To the left of the door is St George and the Dragon, a very realistic statue which I had to put in. St George’s horse prances on a firm plinth. St George himself wields a real metal lance, copper or some copper-containing alloy, since it is green. The dragon, some distance away, is made to balance on a precarious shelf, endangered by the thrust of the lance. It’s a dynamic and three dimensional scene.

Here is work in progress on the drawing.

Drawing the West front of Basel Münster.

I made more sketches around the city:

  • Münsterplatz from ‘Zum Isaac’
  • Basler Münster and the Wettsteinbrücke

On the long journey home, I sketched the people, and my luggage.

Sainte-Croix, February 2020

The weather in the Jura mountains is changing. This is climate change, the residents tell me. Once, the snow came reliably every year, bringing skiers. Now, the snow is unreliable. “It shouldn’t be like this,” they said, looking out at the slushy rain. This is February: high skiing season. “It should not be like this,” they say again, sadly.

Here is a sketch made looking out of the window into the rain and melting snow. The lady at the Post Office added the stamp.

Sainte-Croix, February 12th 2020, looking down the hill towards the station.

I made that picture with just watercolour: no pen.

The Hôtel de France celebrates the fine engineering expertise of the area with a collection of typewriters. There were several in the meeting room where we worked. Here is one of them.

Typewriter. The Post Office lady obliged with the stamp.

This was a busy visit. My arrival had been delayed by a storm, and so work was compressed into a few hours. My next sketching opportunity was while I waited for a lift to the station.

Here’s a view across Lake Geneva in the rain.

Wapping Old Stairs E

On a radiantly bright day I walked East from the City in search of horizons. Wapping, east of Tower Bridge, is where the buildings at last are of human size, and you can see the sky.

Next to the pub called “Town of Ramsgate” on Wapping High Street, there is a small passage, a slot between buildings. I darted down there, and found a long view over the Thames, and the stone steps leading down to the river. This is Wapping Old Stairs E. Turning round, to go back, I saw this mix of buildings.

On the right, with the blue window, is the “Town of Ramsgate”. High above it are the walls of the former warehouse “Oliver’s Wharf”, built in 18691 The warehouse was turned into flats in 1970-1972, making it one of the very early warehouse conversions. Warehouse conversions later extended all the way down the river on both sides.

Sketch map showing the buildings around Wapping Old Stairs E.

On the left are the backs of the houses on “Pier Head”, which is a wide elegant road joining Wapping High Street to the river. There is a chain across the road to deter those of us who would like to look at the river from there.

One of the things I notice doing these sketches is the amazing number of television aerials that persist on rooftops, in defiance of the proliferation of broadband services. In this view there are two, both seriously complex and business-like examples of the genre. I think it is time for a exhibition of Television Aerials, as Art. If you are the V&A reading this, consider it now, before they all disappear, or become very valuable.

Wapping Old stairs is not a lonely place. It must feature in books. During the hour and a quarter I was there four couples and individuals walked along the passageway, looked out to the river, took photos and walked back. A man came with his tiny dog. The dog showed an unwise interest in my water pot, which by that time contained an unhealthy mix of Perinone Orange, Phthalo Turquoise and Mars Yellow. I tried to deter the dog from drinking it, and then had to explain to the dog’s owner that I didn’t mind the dog atall, but I didn’t think he should drink that particular water. They were going to go for a walk on the foreshore, but the tide was still high and sloshing over the steps, which put paid to that idea.

Here is work in progress.

(1) F. & H. Francis. 1869-70. Wapping, London E1. Built for George Oliver “in the Tudor gothic style, this wharf handled general cargo but had special facilities for tea” [Craig, Charles, et al.  London’s Changing Riverscape: Panoramas from London Bridge to Greenwich. London: Francis Lincoln, 2009. Quoted in “victorianweb.org”]

View from the South side of the river, photo from “LoveWapping.org”. This photo shows the smoke from a fire which broke out in one of the flats, Sept 2019.

France: Paris and the South, Jan 2020

Here is a corner of St Eustache, near Les Halles in central Paris.

St Eustache was built between 1532 and 1632. I drew it standing in the pedestrian area near Les Halles, as people flowed by. I enjoyed the fact that there were huge chimneys on the church, shown high up on the left edge of the picture.

Drawing St Eustache on location

The sky was overcast. It was a Monday. A group of lively young people were hanging about, calling to each other.

Meeting point for Public Calm

This pedestrian area was one of those liminal zones: between public and private, not quite a pavement, not quite a plaza, partly a thoroughfare, partly a resting zone. As a result, the social rules were ambiguous. People were hanging around, people were passing through. Evidently there have been incidents. A large poster said: “City of Paris, Meeting Point, Public Calm. The operatives of the City of Paris in charge of Public Calm welcome your feedback and comments between 6pm and 6:30pm, Monday to Friday. To report an incident (“incivilité”) call 3975 or go to Paris.fr/incivilité”.

I was intrigued by the idea of City operatives charged with “public calm” (“tranquillité publique”), and wonder how and whether it works.

Here’s another sketch in the same area. This the “Bourse de Commerce”, the Commodities Exchange. It’s now the former Commodities Exchange, with massive building work going on to convert it into a contemporary art space. The architect for the conversion is Tadao Ando.

Bourse de Commerce, with crane and hoardings.

This was a sketch as I was waiting for the swimming pool to open.

Drawing on location

I did some people-sketching in a café and in waiting areas on the trip. I am on a mission to get more people into my drawings, so I practice.

  • Airport lounge
  • Eurostar lounge
  • Doing the crossword
  • Men in the café
People watching

I walked across to the Left Bank, searching for “Maison Charbonnel”, the home of the maker of the etching ink that I favour. The place was there, on the Quai Montebello, just across the river from Notre Dame. However, because of the Métro strikes, or because of the weather or for some other reason or no reason atall, the shop was closed “until the 3rd of February”.

I drew a picture of Notre Dame.

Notre Dame, West front, from St Michel.

This took about one hour 35 minutes. The temperature was 7 degrees C.

  • Straight to pen
  • On the pavement
  • Putting the colour on
  • Red arrow shows the line of sight of the drawing
Drawing on location, Notre Dame from St Michel

Then I took sanctuary in a marvellous art shop I found: “Magasin Sennelier”, 3 Quai Voltaire. I was served by a gentleman who might have been there since the 1950s. He was pleased to tell me he knew L. Cornelissen & Son of London, and Green and Stone, and he knew Mr Rowney, of Daler Rowney paints, personally. Or had done. Sennelier paints were superior, I was authoritatively, if not entirely objectively, informed.

  • Magasin Sennelier
  • Crayons
  • “Don’t use the crayons.”
  • Paints on the top floor
  • Japanese paints
  • A little brush I bought
Inside Magasin Sennelier, Quai Voltaire

In the South I made a pen sketch of a vast canyon:

Blanc-Martel hiking trail, start point.

And here’s a quick sketch in the library, before dinner:

Corner of the library

Turks Head Café Wapping

Here is the marvellous Turks Head Café, Wapping, rescued from demolition by local residents in the 1980s.

The Turks Head Cafe, in front of St John’s Tower

Inside, I found warmth, quiet tables, and the gentle murmur of conversations: people actually talking to each other. I felt welcome here. The food was marvellous. Next time I’m going to have the Blueberry Tart. I only noticed it after I’d already had the substantial Chicken and Avocado Sandwich.

Inside the Turks Head Café

I went to pay my bill. When I returned to my table, there was a little group of people admiring the sketch (above). I chatted to a man called Mark, who, it turns out, runs the website “lovewapping.org“. We exchanged anecdotes about the representation or otherwise of residents’ views on local councils. His group grapples with Tower Hamlets Council.

Then I went outside to draw the café.

The tower in the background is St Johns Tower. The tower is “all that remains of the parish church of St Johns circa 1756 … the surrounding ground was rebuilt as flats in the 1990s to an attractive design reflecting the previous building on the site” says the Knight Frank website (an estate agent).

This drawing took 1hour 15 mins, done from the pavement by a huge brick wall. The colours are Perinone Orange, Phthalo Turquoise, Mars Yellow and Hansa Yellow Mid. As you see, the front of the cafe faces West, and caught the setting sun.

Here is the wall next to where I was standing.

London Bricks in Wapping.
Notice outside the café
A man with a tiny cup of espresso coffee

Bunhill Fields Memorial Buildings

This small building stands peacefully in a garden, surrounded by later developments. It is the local Quaker Meeting House.

According to the very interesting leaflet produced by the Bunhill Quakers, the current building is the sole remnant of a once large establishment, the Memorial Buildings, completed 1881. These Memorial Buildings housed “a coffee Tavern, mission rooms for the adult schools and breakfast meetings, Sunday schools, a medical mission, and a large meeting house”. The construction was funded by money obtained when the Metropolitan Board of Works wanted to widen Roscoe Street, and purchased land owned by the Quakers to do so. Roscoe Street was then called Coleman Street. “The success of the Adult School brought in funds for the erection of an Extension building in 1888”, they write. 300-400 people attended the meeting in those days.

Bombing raids in 1940, ’41, and ’44 destroyed “all but the caretakers’ house”, and the council “re-zoned” the area to “allow only residential building”. Friends Meetings continued, however, and still continue, in the former Caretakers’ House, which is the building I have drawn. As well as the Quaker Meetings, it is the centre for a travelling library. A small notice by the door says that this is the drop-in centre for an organisation called “At Ease” which provides a “Free, independent and confidential advisory service for people in the Armed Forces.”

  • The stone tablet on the north side of the building.
  • Quaker Meetings are held here every Sunday and monthly on a Wednesday.

The leaflet from the Bunhill Quakers is on their website and also here:

bunhill-memorial-buildingsDownload

I made the drawing from the Quaker Garden on the site of the Bunhill Fields Burial Ground.

The drawing took about 1 hour 30mins. The sky is a new colour: Phthalocyanine Turquoise, a Winsor and Newton colour, pigment PB16. Other colours are Perinone Orange, and Mars Yellow, both Daniel Smith Watercolours. Here is work in progress:

The air temperature was 5 degrees C. That blue sky was not a “warm blue” whatever the photos seem to say.