The Green Tiled House, 5 Croston Street, London Fields, E8 4PQ

On a sunny day in April, I walked across London Fields. I had a paper bag in my hand containing a cheesy snack from E5 bakery.

I ate my snack on a bench, watching the people walk past on their way to Borough Market.

Then I thought I would draw some of the trees, and the people. Already translating the scene in front of me into ink sketches in my mind, I extracted from my bag the bottle of ink I had brought for this purpose. This ink bottle is a repurposed plastic shampoo bottle, small size, from a hotel.

I could not get the top off the ink bottle. The ink had dried. The top was stuck. My hands were not strong enough.

Help was needed. Fortunately, help was going to be readily available in the stream of passers-by. I waited. I discounted the slim woman in the smart white skirt. She would not want to engage with ink. Several older people, though probably interested and willing, would likely have the same issue I had. Then a young man came by. He had the physique of Jack Reacher: a blond man in a tight T-shirt, walking easily and with purpose. I smiled and I said, “You look like a strong guy. Can you get the top off my ink bottle?” I held out the small bottle.
He stopped, and assessed the situation. He had not only the physique of Reacher, but also his attitude: never walk past a damsel in distress. Although I am hardly a damsel. “ I am a strong guy,” he told me with a smile. “You got the right man here!” In his muscular hand, the bottle looked tiny. “It’s ink,” I reminded him, “keep it the right way up.”
“Got it”, he said, and applied himself to the problem.

The top did not move. “Hmmph” he said, and put down his carrier bag. Now he applied his muscular arms and his huge torso into the twisting movement. I had visions of the bottle bursting, ink going everywhere, including into his carrier bag. De Atramentis Document ink is notable for its intense blackness, and archival quality. That means you can’t wash it out.
But within seconds he was handing me back the bottle and picking up his undamaged carrier bag. I thanked him and he went on his way, the action a small blip in his smooth stride across the park.


He had released the top. I undid it cautiously and all was well. No leakage. But this incredibly strong individual had contorted the ink bottle. It now took on the irregular shape of a crumpled can: an art object, perhaps. It sits on my desk, testament to the extraordinary strength of this kind stranger in the park.

Later, I followed the stream of people towards Broadway Market. I procured coffee from Climpson Coffee and looked for a quiet place to drink it. Round a corner, down a side street, was the perfect place: a silent street, a stone step in the sun, and an interesting house to draw.

This building had clearly been something. Not a pub: the windows were too low. Pubs of that vintage were built with high windows and stained glass, so children (and others?) could not see the goings-on within1. Also, if it had been a pub, the door would have been on the corner. But the glazed green tiles spoke of a pub. It is apparently residential now. I saw three bell-pushes by the front door and there are three satellite dishes. The bars of the windows were dried up and flaking. That car outside was dented. A mystery.

I was sketching from a doorstep on Dericote Street. It was not so quiet as I had thought. Groups of people walked past. I received many encouraging comments on the picture, including from children. One passer-by asked me if I knew what the building was. I said I didn’t and asked if he knew. He didn’t know either.

Then the house behind me, which I had thought was boarded up and empty, turned out to contain building workers, who emerged from the front door into the sunlight and all around me. I apologised for sitting on their doorstep and made to leave, but they waved away my apologies, and examined my picture with interest. They spoke a language I did not recognise. I could not decipher exactly what they were saying, but they seemed to be comparing my work with another artist they knew. A fellow building worker drove up in his van, totally blocking my view. As politely as I could, I asked him if he would please consider parking elsewhere. This suggestion was reviewed in rapid conversation with his colleagues from indoors. He leapt back into the van, put it in gear, and moved up the street.

Then the photo shoot arrived. At first I saw a man standing in the middle of the road, shifting sideways, oddly. He was staring, not at me, but round about, in a peculiarly intense manner. He went away, and I thought no more about him. London is full of people moving oddly, myself included. Five minutes later, a whole group arrived, equipped with heavy cameras and silver umbrellas. They were all young and all beautiful. The man who had been moving oddly was amongst them. They took up a position exactly in my field of view. One of the beautiful people noticed me immediately and came across to assure me that “we will only be five minutes”. I said it was a great location, which it was. He agreed, and told me they were making pictures for a magazine.

I watched while one of the beautiful men leaned meaningfully on the railing and everyone else watched and commented.

Then, after five minutes as promised, they moved off around the corner and out of sight.

I finished the pen drawing. It was getting cold.

As I was packing up, the man who had approached me earlier, asking about the building, came back, walking briskly. He was flourishing his mobile phone. “It’s called ‘The Green Tiled Building’“, he told me triumphantly. Reading from his phone he continued “It was ‘The Dublin Bottling Company’, distributors of Guinness, 1875. There were stables round the back.” I wrote it all down. Having dispensed this information, he rushed off again before I could thank him. I looked around to say goodbye to the construction workers but they had gone, and the house behind me was silent.

Back at home, I finished the picture, and researched the Dublin Bottling Company2.

A building is shown at this position in the OS Map of 1891-5, with the same layout and plan as later maps of 5 Croston Street. At that time, Croston Street was called “Hamburg Street” and Dericote Street was “Breman Street”. A building whose roof is remarkably similar to the existing one is shown on the “RAF Aerial Map of London 1945-48”.

My researches took me to the London Archive, where I was able to trace some of the story of this building, via Planning Applications. In the marvellous “Archive Study Room” I spread out plans and saw architects’ drawings showing younger versions of the building I had sketched.3

The “Dublin Bottling Company” owned the site by 1951. I know this because there was a building application dated 1951, for the proposed installation of a cold water tank, with the owner cited as the Dublin Bottling Company Ltd. By this time the address was 5 Croston Street. A plan of this date shows storage areas for Guinness, cider and “Bass” inside the building, and a big yard with sheds, accessed by a side road to the right of the building.

The Dublin Bottling Company continued to enhance its facilities. In October 1960 they paid a T Whyman and Sons £75 to “form a door through the existing brick wall from open yard store space to storage department and supply and fix rolling shutter.” Mr Wyman must have done a good job because in February the next year, for a fee of £375, he is erecting glazed partitions in the office and removing a “wrot iron gate” to fix another roller shutter.

However in 1964 they started to encounter problems. They applied to install a new steam boiler.

Letter from Mr Wright General Manager of the The City of Dublin Bottling Company Ltd to the London County Council District Surveyor in Hackney. This letter is in the London Archive ref GLC/AR/DS/06/212, and is reproduced here by kind permission of the Guinness Archive. The letter tells the Surveyor that they want to make some modifications to install a washing machine, and to install a hot water boiler. They claim there will be no structural modifications. But the annotations in red show that someone has a concern about the flue to the steam boiler.
Image copyright: Guinness Archive

The proposed flue for this boiler was “asbestos cement”. The Superintending Architect at the London County Council did his homework. He told them: “It has been ascertained from the makers of the boiler (Berings, Ltd.) that the flue throat temperature is 550°-7000 F. which is 200°F. above the permitted maximum for asbestos cement.” 4

He demanded a cast iron flue. “Please re-submit your application”. I could find no such resubmitted application in the parcel of documents at the London Archive.

By 1975 they found themselves struggling to continue, as the area had been zoned for residential use, and they were not residential. They applied for:

“continued use as a depot for storage purposes and the retention of a storage shed”

However the council was reluctant.

“the building hereby permitted shall be removed at the expiration of the period ending 31st December 1976”

There were to be no vehicle repairs. They had to maintain an 8 foot fence all around the perimeter of this industrial activity.

“The proposal does not accord with the Initial Development Plan for Greater London in which the area is zoned for residential use”

commented the planning officer.

So then some change of ownership must have occurred, because in April 1978 someone, probably the Greater London Council (GLC), was submitting plans to redevelop the property into three residential flats. See the architects drawing above. This was approved on 3rd August 19785. But no redevelopment happened. There was a further application in 1983, now with a builder involved, Atristor Ltd. The planning officer at the time, like me today, wanted to find out who owned the site. In the “owner” field they wrote in red “GLC?” with a note “please try and ascertain”.

7 February 1983: part of the planning application correspondence between the builder, “Atristor Ltd” on behalf of (we assume) the GLC, and the district surveyor, regarding the conversion of the building into three flats. See the red annotations, where someone is querying the ownership.
Image copyright: The London Archives, City of London, Reference: GLC/AR/DS/06/212. Reproduced under licence.

It seems that the owner was indeed the GLC, however, because in another bundle there were beautiful architectural drawings for the three flats, marked “GLC ILEA, DEPARTMENT OF ARCHITECTURE AND CIVIC DESIGN, County Hall SE1 7PB, Architect Sir Roger Walters KBE FRIBA FIStructE”.

Do we still have a “Department of Architecture and Civic Design”?

On 9th February 1983 Atristor Ltd notified the District Surveyor they were going to start work in two days. However something went wrong, because on 15th September 1983 the GLC was again submitting plans, this time for replacement of a “fire damaged roof”. They proposed to use steel beams to hold up the tiled roof. This time the work was to be done by the GLC Department of Architecture and design, Engineering Division.

At this point, the archive record stops.

I can only assume that the work to replace the fire-damaged roof went ahead, and that the conversion into flats was completed. Because here is the building, with a roof, and with three flats inside.

Page spread, Sketchbook 16

It’s a wonderful location, and an intriguing building. I’d love to hear from anyone who knows more about it.


  1. Victorian pubs have high windows and stained glass to obscure the inside from the view of children and passers-by: I can’t find a reference for this. I have always assumed it is so. If anyone can confirm – please let me know. ↩︎
  2. This is not the “Dublin Bottling Company” of Texas which makes drinks including “Dr. Pepper” ↩︎
  3. All the quotations, documents and plans I have reproduced come from London Archive document packs with this reference: GLC/AR/DS/06/212, see this link – https://search.lma.gov.uk/scripts/mwimain.dll/144/LMA_OPAC/web_detail?SESSIONSEARCH&exp=refd%20GLC/AR/DS/06/212 The documents are not online, but are available for perusal at the London Archive Study Room. The London Archive kindly gave me permission to photograph the documents and publish them here. The letter from the Dublin Bottling Company appears by kind permission of the Guinness Archive (email from Sarah Mai Kavanagh, 20 My 2026) ↩︎
  4. Letter in the London Archive pack GLC/AR/DS/06/212, dated 20 April 1964 from Hubert Bennet, Superintending Architect London County Council, to the Dublin Bottling Company, copied to the Hackney District Surveyor. Mr Hubert writes, “I would confirm my assistant’s telephone conversation with Mr. Wright on 19 March 1964, when the above matter was discussed and the installation of a cast iron flue pipe complying with By-law 10.05 agreed.I would be pleased to receive a reply confirming the installation of the cast iron flue pipe and the cancelling of the application at your earliest opportunity.” ↩︎
  5. Approved AR/BR/GB115259 3 August 1978 ↩︎

National Theatre and 76 South Bank

On the 2nd January I joined a group of other artists sketching on London’s South Bank. This was an event organised by Jackson’s Art Supplies of Dalston.

The first picture I attempted was of the National Theatre.

Sketching the National Theatre – 2nd January 2026

It was extremely cold and there was an unforgiving wind.

I managed to finish the pen-and-ink but at this point I abandoned the idea of putting the watercolour on the picture, and hurried into the National Theatre to thaw out. The staff there patiently inspected my bag of art equipment. In the café I found a group of other artists from the event, drinking coffee, testing the operation of their fingers and talking about art materials.

Coffee and company warmed me up. I decided to try simpler drawings using big crayons that I could wield in gloves. Here’s a flick through the sketchbook:

South Bank sketchbook flick-through

The black marks are made with a Derwent “inktense” stick. These sticks make charcoal-like marks, which you can then darken or spread out with water.

The National Theatre – inktense stick on Arches cold-pressed paper

Here’s my last picture of the day. I was determined to use the watercolours, and found a spot where the wind was attenuated by a concrete wall.

At 3pm we all congregated and shared our pictures. I was really impressed at how many of us had persisted, in the cold, right to the end of the event, and at the wonderful work everyone had done. I mean, doing anything at that temperature was an achievement, I thought. You can see a picture of the assembled participants in the Jackson’s newsletter on this link.

Later, at home in the warm, I added the watercolour to my initial sketch of the National Theatre.

It was an inspiring day out. Thank you to the Jackson’s team for the initiative and the organisation. And thanks to the wonderful National Theatre for the warm and welcoming spaces, the café, and the toilets…..!

Rotherhithe Tunnel Shaft 2, London SE16

I have sketched the Rotherhithe Tunnel Ventilation Shaft on the North Bank of the Thames. So I went on an expedition to sketch its sister shaft on the South side. Here it is.

Rotherhithe Tunnel Shaft 2, sketched 4 November 2025 in Sketchbook 16 (c) JaneSketching

Here’s a map showing the river downstream of Tower Bridge, and the location of these structures. Click to enlarge.

Map showing the Rotherhithe tunnel, all 4 shafts, and the entrances. Click to enlarge.
(c) OpenStreetMapcontributors

You can see one shaft from the other. Here’s a picture looking North across the Thames, just before I started the sketch. The light wasn’t great, but you can still see both shafts 2 and 3. See how wide the river is at this point! The distance between the two shafts is around 1500ft (500 metres).

Photo looking north across the Thames at Rotherhithe 4th November 2025 (c) JaneSketching

Here’s a photo from closer:

Photo looking north across the Thames at Rotherhithe 4th November 2025 (c) JaneSketching

Shaft 2 is hidden behind high orange fences as you see. On the inland side it is behind a residential building at 157 Rotherhithe Street.

The Rotherhithe tunnel has 4 shafts. Shafts 2 and 3 are the round shapes and resemble each other. Both are Grade II listed.

Shafts 1 and 4 have been modernised.

My next expedition will be to sketch the entrances to the tunnel.

Sketchbook 16 spread

Watercolours by Daniel Smith :
– Burnt Umber
– Serpentine Genuine
– Phthalo Blue Turquoise
– Transparent Pyrrol Orange
– Mars Yellow
– Fired Gold Ochre

Colours and brushes used for this picture. Colours by Daniel Smith. Brushes by Rosemary Brushes. Ceramic palette by Mary Ling. Brass Palette by Classic Paintboxes.

The Leather Market Workspace, Bermondsey, SE1 3ER

Here is The Leather Market Workspace. The Victorian building on the left is the back of the Grade II listed former “London Leather, Hide & Wool Exchange”, 1878, designed by George Elkington and Sons.

My idea had been to sketch the front of the Victorian building from Weston Street. But the front was obscured by delivery vans.

We were on the point of abandoning the project, when Toby appeared.

Toby, it turns out, is in charge of a café. He was standing on the pavement next to a huge arch by the Victorian frontage. Come in! he suggested. Lynn and I followed him through the arch. The space opened out into a large yard, with seats. Toby went into his café and we walked around the yard, sizing up the artistic possibilities. Lynn uttered a shriek of delight. She had discovered a point at the edge of the courtyard with an unexpected view of The Shard. And trees. This was her quest. She settled down to sketch while I went to procure coffee from Toby and his team. Then I started sketching too.

“The Leather Market” is one of a collection of co-working spaces managed by Workspace Group plc. We sketched and drank our coffee in the calm yard. Workers passed by and made encouraging comments.

Working on a sketch of The Leather Market. Pen: Lamy Safari fountain pen

We returned our coffee cups to the friendly café, and set off to explore more of Bermondsey. By the time we emerged out through the arch, the delivery vans had gone from the front of the building.

Thank you to Toby and his team from Skinners Café for making us so welcome!

Here’s a map:

Colours, all Daniel Smith watercolours:

  • Fired Gold Ochre for the bricks
  • Burnt Umber and Ultramarine Blue for the grey and blacks
  • Serpentine Genuine for the greens
  • Some Transparent Pyrrol Orange and Mars Yellow for the light indoors
  • all the whites are the paper, fine lines achieved using masking tape and rubber resist.

My pen is a Lamy Safari with EF nib, and De Atramentis Document Black waterproof ink. Paper is Arches Aquarelle 300gsm CP, in a book made by Wyvern Bindery of Hoxton

I have sketched in Bermondsey before:

St James Bermondsey SE1

Walking back from the Little Bread Pedlar with my bag of goodies, I came to a standstill in front of St James’ Church, Bermondsey. This is a…

keep reading

2 Leathermarket Street, Bermondsey, SE1

From the café “Morocco Bound” I sketched the distinctive building across the street.

This is 2 Leathermarket Street:

2 Leathermarket Street, London SE1 3HN. Sketched 5th September 2025 in Sketchbook 16

In the distance you see The Shard, at London Bridge Station.

This was the leathermaking district up to the beginning of the twentieth century. We have Leathermarket St, Morocco St, and Tanner St. The former “Leather Hide and Wool Exchange” is further up Leathermarket Street, towards Borough, to the west.

The building was listed Grade II in 1972. It is early 19th century, according to the listing.

Here is the area in 1976, in a picture from the London Archives, used with permission:

1976 photo, Building in Morocco Street, record number 51956
image source: (c) The London Archives (City of London Corporation), picture used under licence reference #007089
https://www.londonpicturearchive.org.uk/view-item?i=54304&WINID=1730309548612

The windows are all still there as in 1976, with the same window frames, now painted purple. Even the weird little chimneypot on the top of the turret is still there, as it was 50 years ago. In this 1976 picture the placard between the windows says “Ryedene Ltd” but I have been unable to discover if this company was in the leather business. There is no placard now.

“The Department” now occupies this building. Their business, according to their website, is:

https://www.the-department.co.uk/services/ downloaded 31 October 2025

To the right of 2 Leathermarket Street is a garage, “R.W. Auto’s” which I have sketched previously:

2 Morocco Street, sketched from “Morocco Bound”, 18th October 2024, 2pm in Sketchbook 15

Thank you to “Morocco Bound” for their hospitality while I sketched these pictures. It’s a calm and welcoming bookshop and café in an interesting location. I’ll be back!

Page spread, Sketchbook 16

38 Charterhouse Street, London EC1

My idea that day was to sketch some interesting corner pubs in Bloomsbury.

By the time I had emerged from my flat and was on the street, the bright autumn day had turned stormy. After a few paces, the rain started falling. Everyone dashed for cover. I sheltered in a doorway, together with another woman, two strangers in a refuge, grinning and rolling our eyes. “Well, it is September”. At a pause in the deluge, we both emerged and went our separate ways. I went doggedly towards the West, but no, the rain returned, seemingly even more torrential. I dashed from doorway to doorway, like a fugitive in a spy novel, finding cover where I could. Then I spotted the generous overhang of Smithfield Market and rushed underneath, the rain spattering on the glass above. There was no sign of the deluge ceasing, so I considered, as you do in these strange interim conditions: to go on? to go back? Or to stay where you are?

Why not do the drawing right here? Over the other side of the road is a building occupying an acute angle between roads. It wasn’t in my plan, but by this time I had abandoned my plan. So here is 38 Charterhouse Street, sketched from the shelter of the Smithfield Meat Market canopy.

38 Charterhouse Street, EC1M 6JH sketched 4th September 2025 in Sketchbook 16

I sketched it in pen on location. Part way through the process, a group of workers started to clean the area behind me, using high-pressure water hoses. A fine mist appeared in the air, adding to the general dampness. I finished the drawing later that evening, in my warm dry room.

Here is a map.

As you see, number 38 stands on a little triangle of land, bounded by Charterhouse Street, Carthusian Street and the tiny alley called Fox and Knot Street.

British History Online offers some history for this triangular plot. In the 1860s the City of London redeveloped the Smithfield Meat Market. At the time it had been mostly an open-air market. The City turned it into the covered market it is today. The surrounding lanes and buildings were also affected, both by the redevelopment and the increased trade.

In 1869–70, with the new market building complete, it was resolved to take the new road along the north side of the market further east into the square itself, carried out in 1873–4. The road was called Charterhouse Street, apparently at the suggestion of the Charterhouse,
Whereas in 1860 Charterhouse Lane enjoyed a mix of businesses, in 1876 half of the sixteen surviving houses were occupied by meat and poultry traders. The same trades dominated the new buildings put up, though there were also coffee rooms to rival the two remaining pubs and a large bank at the corner with St John Street. By the time of the Second World War most of the buildings west of the Fox and Anchor at No. 115 were purpose-built cold stores. Only with the decline of Smithfield Market did the grip of the meat trades loosen. Today restaurants and bars have largely supplanted them.

British History online

The Fox and Anchor pub and the former cold stores are on the left of my drawing. I’ve drawn the marvellous frontage of the Fox and Anchor here.

British History Online describes the block on the corner, number 38:

The remnant of ground at the angle between the old and new roads was laid out for a small block of buildings and allotted the numbers 38–42 (even) Charterhouse Street, behind which a tiny street, Fox and Knot Street, was cut through in 1871. The name was taken from Fox and Knot Yard, a court obliterated by the new market.

The small triangular block west of Fox and Knot Street […] just within the City boundary, belongs to the land acquired by the Corporation of London in the 1860s for the Smithfield Market development. Set out for building in 1871–2, it remained empty until 1875–6. At the apex a warehouse (No. 38), was then built for Myer and Nathan Salaman, ostrich-feather merchants, to designs by Benjamin Tabberer. […] It is four storeys high, of red brick with regular fenestration; all the ornamentation is concentrated on the narrow corner. For many years there were coffee-rooms here.

So, in 1875 it was an ostrich-feather warehouse, which must have been a great place to visit. The next mention of the building is on the website of Herbert, a present-day supplier of technology to retail businesses. They have a section of their website devoted to their long history. In the early twentieth century they were supplying weighing machines and balances from their offices in West Smithfield and a factory in Edmonton.

Advertisement from the Herbert History site, showing Smithfield Market.

In 1937 they moved into 38 Charterhouse Street which became a showroom.

The Herbert and Son showroom, circa 1940s.

Herbert and Son moved out in 1956 and consolidated their operations into their Edmonton site. Since then, the building has been a coffee house, and, more recently, various bars. It is now the “Smithfield Tap”.

I wonder what will happen to it next?

Sketchbook 16

References

British History Online reference: https://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-london/vol46/pp265-279
Charterhouse Square area: Charterhouse Street and other streets’, in Survey of London: Volume 46, South and East Clerkenwell, ed. Philip Temple (London, 2008), British History Online https://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-london/vol46/pp265-279 [accessed 6 September 2025].

Herbert history reference: http://www.herberthistory.co.uk/cgi-bin/sitewise.pl?act=det&pt=&p=279&id=herbhis

Putting on the colour at my desk.

Colours, all Daniel Smith unless otherwise stated:

  • Fired Gold Ochre (bricks)
  • Ultramarine Blue Finest (Schmincke Horadam) + Burnt Umber = grey/black
  • Phthalo Blue Turquoise (reflections, water)
  • Mars Yellow (bricks)
  • Serpentine Genuine (Green tiles)
  • Buff Titanium (cream-coloured stonework)
  • Transparent Pyrrol Orange (highlights of red on the bollards)

7 Herbrand Street, London WC1

In a backstreet in Camden is a magnificent Art Deco building.

7 Herbrand Street WC1N 1EX, sketched 30 August 2025 in Sketchbook 16

This was built of re-inforced concrete in 1931, to the designs of architects Wallis, Gilbert and Partners. The style is called “Streamline Moderne” and includes fun details.

7 Herbrand Street, details

It was originally used as the headquarters of Daimler Hire Cars. It includes a spiral ramp, off to the right of my picture. This was where the cars entered and drove up to the garage.

General view of 7 Herbrand Street showing the former garage entrance (centre right). The spiral ramp was in the curved part of the building to the right.

As I was sketching, a passer-by approached me to tell me the history of the building. She worked for Daimler Hire, in the offices on the upper floors. Her husband was a driver, she told me. Later the building was used as the headquarters of the London Taxi Company, and by Hertz car rentals. The basement was occupied by Frames Rickard Coaches.

The building was listed Grade II in 1982, number 1378855. The listing calls it “Frames Coach Station and London Borough of Camden Car Park”. It is now occupied by a fintech company called “Thought Machine” who provide banking software. The spiral ramp has been removed.

This building with its curves was tricky to draw and took me a long time. The person who had approached me to describe the history returned back up the street. She held out a hand containing fresh hazel nuts she had collected from the pavement. “I don’t think Camden Council realise they have planted hazelnut trees” she said.

Once the pen drawing was finished, I ate a sandwich from nearby Fortitude Bakery, and walked home to finish the drawing at my desk.

Sketchbook 16

Back Hill Substation EC1

This imposing building presides over an entire block, in the back-streets of Camden. I’ve admired its austerity and unadorned walls, amongst the much more elaborate buildings around. This is an electricity substation, very functional. I’d noticed it while sketching The Coach, a nearby pub.

There were many more pipes and connectors than I could fit into the drawing. They all looked important. This is a serious building. The sign on the wall says “Danger of Death”. But the pipework has a certain lighthearted steampunk appeal. The arrangement has lamps, ladders and valves in odd places, and inexplicable vents, as though it might huff and exude puffs of steam. But when I saw it, the whole structure was silent and still.

“silent and still”

The building is from the 1950s.

This complex dates mostly from 1956–7, when the London Electricity Board extended an earlier yard established in the late 1920s by its predecessor, the London County Council’s County of London Electric Supply Co. The 1950s buildings, designed by the LEB’s Architect’s Section, are of reinforced-concrete and steel frame construction with elevations of buff-coloured brick and glass block. They match the original building in the southeastern corner of the site ….

‘West of Farringdon Road’, in Survey of London: Volume 47, Northern Clerkenwell and Pentonville, ed. Philip Temple (London, 2008), British History Online https://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-london/vol47/pp22-51 [accessed 11 September 2025].

It is very much in active use and currently being enhanced. Planning notices fastened to the main gates informed me that:
“The customer at 21 Moorefield’s [sic], London EC2… requested a 10MVA supply from the City of London 33kV network providing enhanced level of security of supply.”
They don’t want any fluctuation in the power supply, then, and no power cuts.

At the moment:
“Back Hill 33KV substation does not currently have adequate capacity headroom to fully meet the customer’s requirements…” and “The substation capacity is currently limited by the transformers, incoming 132kV circuits and 132KV switchgear..”

So they have to replace the transformers, cabling and switchgear, to “allow the 21 Moorefield’s customer connection,” the notice says.

21 Moorfields is the building above Moorgate Elizabeth line station, just to the East of the Barbican.

21 Moorfields, from the Barbican Highwalk under Willoughby House.

“Electrical Contracting News” provides a more general description:

Almost 10,000 customers from Farringdon, Clerkenwell and key buildings in City of London are to benefit from a multi-million pound investment to upgrade the electricity network.

Work is currently underway to install the first of three new transformers – a device which steps down the power voltage so electricity can be safely delivered to local properties. The transformer, along with new switchgear equipment, will be installed at UK Power Networks’ substation to meet greater energy demand in the area.
The £24 million project started in October 2021 and is due to finish in early 2026. As part of the scheme, the firm has consulted local councils and other interested parties to ensure that people experience as little disruption as possible while the work takes place.
Euan MacRae, Project Manager at UK Power Networks, says: “This substation upgrade is part of our ongoing investment in the network to maintain safe and reliable power supplies and future-proof the network. The City of London is home to some of the capital’s most iconic buildings, so in collaboration with our alliance partner The Clancy Group this project is committed to carrying out a staged replacement of the major electricity assets at Back Hill Substation, some of which date back to 1956 and have been well maintained over the years.
“We are excited to be installing innovative equipment which will allow the substation to provide double the previous level of power and will improve the resilience of power supplies across the network in London.”

Electrical Contracting News, April 2022 (https://electricalcontractingnews.com/news/city-of-london-residents-to-benefit-from-24-million-power-scheme/)

I was pleased with my sketch of the substation, and I enjoyed trying to follow the lines of the pipes.

I find it fascinating to realise that there is enormous work going on to keep the electricity flowing, with very little fanfare. There are these silent buildings sitting amongst the offices and flats, doing their job.

Here is a sketch map to show where the substation is:

The location of Back Hill Substation.
Back Hill substation, page spread, Sketchbook 16

I’ve sketched the nearby pubs, the Gunmaker’s Arms here, and The Coach here.

I’ve sketched another substation here:

London Water and Steam Museum, Brentford, TW8 0EN

Here is the magnificent London Water and Steam Museum.

It’s definitely worth a visit if like me you are fascinated by steam engines. But there’s more. This museum is a whole education in the London drinking water and sewerage system: past and present.

The building I’ve sketched houses the “100 inch pumping engine” and the “90 inch pumping engine”. These are steam pumps over a hundred years old. The inches refer to the diameter of the pump cylinder. Their job was to pump drinking water from the Thames to premises in London. The 90 inch engine started working in 1846 and the 100 inch started in 1871. They both retired in 1943, by which time the 90 inch had been going 97 years. The 100 inch gave a demonstration in 1958, which was the last time it pumped water. The 90 inch was restored to working order by enthusiasts in 1973, and now gives demonstrations in the museum. The 100 inch has yet to be restored.

The tower in my sketch is not a chimney. It is a “standpipe tower”. It holds big vertical pipes and a reservoir to store water and regulate the pressure. The strokes from the steam engines created powerful surges of water. You don’t want those powerful surges going directly into the mains water supply, and as they might damage the pipes and surprise consumers. So the steam engines pumped the water up this tower instead. From there, the water flowed out to consumers smoothly.

Providing running water was a whole big problem in the Victorian era. The machines were gigantic so that they could generate sufficient water pressure to get the water up to the second floor of the new Victorian houses which had bathrooms upstairs. That’s not something we normally think about: but I can see it’s an issue.

Then there was the whole big issue of the purity of the water, and whether it was actually drinkable. There were a number of private water companies at the time, in competition with each other, and vying for business, making claims for their water quality, and returning dividends to their shareholders. This was the late 19th century – 100 or so years ago.

A display panel soberly tells us:

“Despite making huge profits the water companies had not lived up to their promises. The quality of the water was still variable and the amount being pumped sometimes left homes and businesses without water. The companies’ focus on profits rather than service was a major worry and so the government decided to get involved.
In 1904 the government created the Metropolitan Water Board and bought the eight water companies to create a single network covering the whole of London. …

As well as history, I learned about today’s drinking water.

For example: did you know that 10% of London’s drinking water is de-salinated water from the Thames estuary? The “revolutionary new de-salination plant” opened in 2010:

I watched a gripping – and somewhat alarming – video of heroic engineers cautiously making their way down soaking brick-lined pipes in the sewers below London streets. They were down there to inspect and clear blockages. I also saw the “rat” robots that can be sent down the smaller sewers – it’s a tough environment for technology.

As well as all this gripping factual information, there’s much of strange beauty in the machinery. I particularly enjoyed the devices and dials.

Definitely recommended. It’s on the underground. No café: take a picnic to eat at their indoor tables.

It closes at 4pm – I managed to do the sketch from the garden, just before they closed the gates.

I added the colour later.

Sketchbook 15

Information in this post is from placards in the museum or from their website. Inspired by my visit to the museum, I read this excellent book about London’s water supply:

“The Mercenary River” by Nick Higham

Two cranes

These two cranes are at Chatham Dockyard.

They stand by the river, ready for work. They are old cranes. It’s a long time since they lifted loads. But they hold themselves ready, should the call come. While they wait, they talk to each other.

So I put them on the same sheet, they go together through the etching press.

I made five prints of these cranes. The colour is added using the “chine colle” technique.

“Chine collé” means putting paper on top of the plate before it goes into the press. I have written about it on this page.

Here is the paper on top of the plate. It has glue on the top surface. The paper is very lightweight Japanese paper. It’s quite hard to get it to stay in position.

Here is a video of this plate after it’s been through the press:

Printing “Two Cranes”: thanks to friends at East London Printmakers for helping me with the video

I etched the plates and made these prints at East London Printmakers, Stepney. The techniques for making the plates are hard ground, soft ground, aquatint and dry point. The ink is Intaglio Printmakers Shop Mix Bone Black.

The cranes are at The Historic Dockyard, Chatham, Kent ME4 4TE

Let me know if you’d like a “Two Cranes” print? The sheet is about A2 size.