Posts Tagged Heritage

Windermere Steamboat Museum designs unveiled

Entries for the Lakeland Arts Trust's RIBA-managed design competition to find the team that will design the new Windermere Steamboat Museum facilities


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Constructive criticism: the week in architecture

Burlington Arcade's independent traders face the (leather) boot, Frank Gehry eats humble pie and Scotland gets a bridge made entirely from recycled plastic

The protests at St Paul's Cathedral are getting all the attention, but for a certain echelon of London society, the real battle is going on at Burlington Arcade, whose proposed £5m redevelopment has galvanised conservationists, traditionalists and Michael Winner. For the uninitiated, Burlington Arcade is the posh people's equivalent of Diagon Alley from Harry Potter – a secluded, beautifully preserved 19th-century arcade whose historical opulence is matched by the retro luxury wares of the outlets, such as vintage fountain pens, handmade shoes, cashmere scarves and dragon bridles – well, maybe not the last one. The Grade II-listed building has been acquired by retail investment firm Meyer Bergman and the ominous-sounding Thor Equities, and the plan is to replace all those independent traders with high-end fashion brands such as Prada and Jimmy Choo.

Few people have seen the actual designs, but one suspects the Arcade brigade are not encouraged by the architect: New Yorker Peter Marino, who specialises in upmarket fashion stores. Not only has Marino stated that his work is not built to last, he likes to dress in black biker leathers, accessorised with sunglasses, leather cap, leather gloves and straps around his biceps. It's not yet clear if Burlington's top-hatted beadles will have to dress the same way, but Marino's look is a sign of how architects' style has moved on. Gone the days are when some Issey Miyake (à la Zaha Hadid) or a pair of Le Corbusier glasses qualified as sartorial flamboyance in design circles, now you've got to look like a missing member of the Village People. Take note, British architects, and up your game!

Talking of architectural flamboyance, Frank Gehry has not been having a good time of it recently. Last week, the 82-year-old designer was forced to acknowledge criticisms of his ambitious design for the Dwight D Eisenhower National Memorial in Washington DC. In terms of memorial architecture it's a radical departure, proposing giant tapestries of woven stainless steel held up by huge stone columns, which effectively screen off the building behind them. The size of this $90m-plus project has caused much public consternation. Three of Eisenhower's granddaughters even issued a statement expressing concern about the "concept for the memorial, as well as the scope and scale of it." "The people are asking good questions," Gehry acknowledged, doubtless wondering if he shouldn't have just given them another Bilbao Guggenheim and have done with it.

Then again, Gehry's Abu Dhabi Guggenheim also hit trouble this week, when it emerged that the company building it had withdrawn the contract for the concrete work and was "reviewing its strategy". The government-backed gallery, which will sit next door to a branch of the Louvre and new museums designed by Jean Nouvel, Zaha Hadid and Norman Foster, has already had its opening put back from 2013 to 2015. There are now rumours it's to be cancelled altogether. These have been denied by the Abu Dhabi side, but the project seems to have stalled, at least temporarily.

On a more optimistic note, Europe's first road bridge made of recycled plastic opened this week in Scotland. Crossing the river Tweed in Peeblesshire, the 30-metre-long bridge was made from 50 tonnes of household recycling material, such as drinks bottles, and took just two weeks to put up. That's got to be better than shipping our plastic to China for recycling. Added to which, this thermoplastic composite material has several advantages over standard materials such as timber, steel and concrete: it never needs painting, it won't rust or rot, and it's 100% recyclable. The technology was developed in the US but it's being made in Wales by a new company named Vertech. As well as bridges, they hope to develop a range of recycled sheet materials to replace plywood and MDF in construction, which suggests an entirely recycled plastic house is now possible. Who'll be the first to do it?

And finally, looking much further into the future, who can resist an event called Thrilling Wonder Stories? This is the Architectural Association's third annual speculative sci-fi-inspired design jam, where architects are invited to think way out of the box, their imaginations cross-fertilised by "mad scientists, literary astronauts, design mystics, graphic cowboys, mavericks, visionaries and luminaries". They're not joking. Guests in London this Friday and Saturday (there's a parallel event in New York) include Vincenzo Natali, director of warped sci-fi movies Cube and Splice, author Bruce Sterling, taxidermy artist Charlie Tuesday Gates (hosting a live workshop) and special effects supremo Andy Lockley, the man who folded up Paris in Christopher Nolan's Inception, among other feats. It's the shape of things to come, you know.

• This article has been amended. The original stated that the bridge made from recycled materials was 9 metres long and in Wales. This has been corrected.


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Arthur Grogan obituary

Selfless collector who helped save Standen for the nation

Arthur Grogan, who has died aged 86, was a discerning collector of late-19th-century British works of art and craftsmanship, an authority on the Arts and Crafts movement and a benefactor of public collections in Britain. Through his timely intervention and a generous donation, he and his wife, Helen, enabled the National Trust to accept Standen, a late-Victorian house in West Sussex designed by the architect Philip Webb, and one of the most remarkable surviving buildings of the period.

In 1972 Standen's owner, Helen Beale, died, bequeathing the house to the National Trust. It had been built for her father in 1895 by Webb, the friend and business partner of William Morris. Unlike most of Webb's buildings, Standen had survived unaltered. It was an example of Victorian design and craftsmanship at its best and most original. The trust wanted to accept the bequest, but was unable to do so because it was accompanied by an inadequate endowment.

Grogan approached the trust with a proposition of exceptional selflessness. He would sell his own house in Richmond, south-west London, make up the endowment by donating the proceeds to the trust and furnish Standen's rather bare walls with his collection of pictures. In exchange, he asked for a lease of the property and the post of honorary curator. The offer was accepted at once and for eight years the Grogans lived happily at Standen, dispensing hospitality and inspiring visitors with their enthusiasm for the period it represented.

Its light-filled rooms were redecorated and hung with Morris wallpapers and, to supplement the Beales' rather humdrum furniture, Grogan began collecting pieces by late-19th-century artists and craftsmen, as well as ceramics and sculpture of the period. Both Arthur and Helen Grogan were still working in London – he as an inspector of historic buildings, she as an architect – and neither ever learned to drive, so it was a measure of their commitment to Standen that each day they travelled to work and back by a laborious combination of buses and trains.

On a summer afternoon in 1977, the official opening of Standen was celebrated by a tea party at which the guest of honour, the historian Sir Nikolaus Pevsner, gave a memorable speech about the revival of interest in Victorian architecture.

Grogan was a kind and hospitable man, a natural teacher and wonderful company. But he was also highly strung and could be intolerant of those he deemed unsympathetic. At Standen, he fought with the trust's gardener over his taste in trees and the way he mowed the lawn in immaculate lines. After a while, as visitor numbers increased and the strain of living in a show-house began to tell, he asked the trust whether a flat could be created for him and his wife in the disused stables.

Much of the furniture and many of the pictures, textiles and ceramics that Grogan bought for the house had already been given to the trust, but he now proposed that, as payment for the cost of converting the stables, he would donate further pictures from his collection. The trust agreed to the move, but at the time had no mechanism for funding it in the way proposed. As a result, the Grogans left Standen and the trust had to buy the pictures.

It was a sad end to a story that had begun so happily. But most of the items Grogan collected for Standen remain in the house, a permanent reminder of the critical part he and his wife played in saving it and transforming it into a beautiful and absorbingly interesting Arts and Crafts family home that now attracts more than 80,000 visitors a year.

Grogan was born in Hampton Hill, south-west London, the second son of John Grogan, a physicist at the National Physical Laboratory at Teddington. His mother, Doris, died giving birth to a daughter. It was a sad household, run by a string of childcarers and housekeepers. Grogan and his brother went first to Pembroke House prep school, and then to King's College, Wimbledon. As Grogan grew up, he developed an interest in antiques of all sorts and spent his spare time combing junk shops and sale rooms for treasures.

On leaving school, he qualified as an architect at Richmond technical college, where he met Helen Sinclair, whom he married in 1951. He obtained a post as an inspector with the Historic Buildings Council, the predecessor of English Heritage. It was a job to which his gifts were ideally suited. His enthusiasm and eye for quality, and a streak of perversity in his nature that drew him to unfashionable causes, were to be of enduring benefit to the cause of building conservation in London.

Grogan was a member of a small team charged with drawing up lists of buildings worthy of statutory protection. At the time, he and Helen were living in Bedford Park, west London, a late-19th-century suburb described by John Betjeman as "probably the most significant in the western world". By the late 1950s this once-fashionable enclave had become down-at-heel and its houses, many of them designed by Richard Norman Shaw, were in multiple occupation. It was through Grogan's dogged advocacy that 356 of them were listed, and he is remembered by the local amenity society as the saviour of Bedford Park.

At the same time he began to collect paintings, watercolours and drawings by 19th-century artists whose work was then as little appreciated as the buildings of Norman Shaw. He claimed that in those days, he never paid more than £5 for a picture. In time, collecting became a passion. He frequented the Fine Art Society in Bond Street and the large Victorian house of Abbott and Holder in Barnes, where bargains were to be had from among unframed works of art stacked in piles. In due course, Grogan assembled a large and distinctive collection of works, mostly by the pre-Raphaelites and members of the New English Art Club.

In his later years, Grogan devoted much time and thought to planning the dispersal of the residue of his collection. By the end of his life, through the Art Fund, he had donated 167 items to public institutions across the country. Twenty-two paintings, including important works by Henry Herbert La Thangue and Sir George Clausen, were given to the Towner art gallery in Eastbourne, East Sussex. A chalk drawing by William Holman Hunt of his wife, Edith, is one of two works that went to Tate Britain, and a charming relief of a mother and child by Robert Anning Bell is one of 17 given to Cheltenham Art Gallery. Fifty pieces were given to the Williamson Gallery in Birkenhead and 49, mostly drawings and watercolours, are now in the Whitworth Art Gallery in Manchester. In all, nine public collections benefited from Grogan's outstandingly generous gift to the nation.

Grogan is survived by his wife.

• Arthur Henry Grogan, art collector, born 31 December 1924; died 25 August 2011


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Response: Upgrading Broadmoor’s old buildings is not in patients’ best interests

NHS money will be better spent on redeveloping safer, up-to-date facilities

Your article, Battle to save Broadmoor buildings from demolition (10 October), explains the Victorian Society's rationale for including the hospital in its top 10 endangered buildings list. It doesn't, however, address the challenge of how to provide patients with the modern mental healthcare services they need in a cost-efficient way within a Victorian infrastructure. Tasked with improving on the average six-year length of stay for patients, West London Mental Health NHS Trust is seeking to manage this challenge through a carefully planned and environmentally sensitive redevelopment.

"We're not denying that [the Victorian buildings] may not be suitable for a modern psychiatric hospital," states the Victorian Society. They are not alone in this view; numerous official reports have deemed the fabric of the hospital "unfit for purpose". As your article states, the hospital was built in 1863, and was seen at the time as providing "an enlightened approach to care". However, psychiatric treatments have progressed radically in the past 148 years – and the environment in which this care takes place should be updated too.

As one of only three high-security hospitals in England, Broadmoor must be fit for purpose. As well as treating patients in a secure setting and ensuring public safety, it is imperative that the building is compatible with 21st-century design, thus ensuring patients' recovery is managed in an environment that is safe for those who work here.

In your piece, the society suggests that it might be "better to develop some of the yucky modern buildings that litter the grounds" of Broadmoor, yet our patients have benefited tremendously from these newer structures. Today, secure mental healthcare is generally conducted in purpose-built hospitals. These facilities have no ligature points, or T- or L-shaped corridors with poor visibility – instead, newer buildings provide natural light and space and have easy access to a range of treatment facilities.

The trust has a responsibility to ensure NHS resources are properly deployed, and this includes financial diligence. Spending public resources on upgrading outdated buildings with high running costs is not a good use of taxpayers' money, when the proposed redevelopment will not only reduce running costs but also deliver lasting improvements for the hospital's environment, services and the local community.

The society wants to save the hospital's listed buildings. Since our earliest redevelopment proposals, we've developed a strong working relationship with English Heritage and assured them that no listed buildings will be demolished.

The Victorian buildings' conversion into a hotel, mentioned in your article, remains a possibility. But one of our priorities is to ensure that a suitable alternative use is found for them, which will preserve their heritage and be an asset to the local community. The trust's proposals for this vital redevelopment enable us to strike a balance between our needs and the desire to preserve our heritage.


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For ever Egypt – a northern temple to industry is at serious risk

Has Leeds woken up to the fact that one of its most important historic buildings is in serious danger? The Victorian Society and English Heritage are clanging alarm bells

The threat to British industry's greatest monuments raised by English Heritage is dramatically illustrated by the partial collapse of Temple Mill in Leeds, a vast Egyptian-style monument which became world-famous within months of its completion in 1840.

Launched with a temperance tea for 2000 flax-spinners, whose facilities in the huge building included private bathrooms – cold water free, hot a penny – the building was an attempt at more enlightened employment practices and featured as such in Disraeli's novel Sybil.

Lauded by everyone from Pevsner to Sir John Betjeman, the mill has been listed Grade 1 for more than 30 years, placing it in the top 2.5 percent of the UK's built heritage. It figures both on the English Heritage 'red alert' list and in the top ten Victorian buildings at risk published earlier this month by the Victorian Society.

There is incredulity in Leeds that the city's most famous industrial monument can have reached such a parlous state that one of its 18 beautifully carved lotus pillars has collapsed, bringing down with it a section of equally ornate wall. But the lethal effects of neglect on a vast but delicate structure, which depended on constant use and maintenance, has combined with the bite of the recession on over-optimistic developers.

For all its massiveness, the mill depends on a web of tie-bars which anchor an exceptionally heavy roof of 60 saucer-shaped brick domes, each crowned by a cone of glass, to the Egyptian walls. Inspired by the Pharoanic temple of the falcon god Horus at Edfu, the system included a meadow of grass to preserve moist temperatures for the flax, which was grazed monthly in summer by imported sheep.

The fracture of a tie-bar led to the pillar collapse and left the mill like a 'wobbly table' on its forest of slender iron pillars, also adorned with lotus leaves, which double as drainpipes. Further damage is certain if other ties fail.

Stonework is also broken on the ornate gatekeeper's lodge, an extra adornment which survived when the original chimney, an obelisk inspired by Cleopatra's Needle, became structurally unsound and was demolished in the 19th century. English Heritage lists the building's condition laconically as 'very bad'.

The developers Arndale Properties have begun repair work and use of parts of the building as a cultural centre on the lines of Salt's Mill in neighbouring Bradford, an even vaster leviathan whose collection of David Hockney paintings and World Heritage Site status has been one of northern England's greatest heritage successes. Temple Mill's neighbouring, and flourishing, Round Foundry complex is a model too. But progress has been slow since the last major occupier, a mail order warehouse, moved out in 2004. The clock for crucial and ever-more expensive repairs is ticking.


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Battle to save Broadmoor hospital from demolition

Victorian Society lists first state asylum for criminally insane among Britain top 10 most endangered buildings

A campaign has been launched to save the listed buildings of one of the most notorious institutions in the country, Broadmoor, built in 1863 as the first state asylum for the criminally insane.

One of the first patients transferred from the old Bethlem hospital - now the Imperial War Museum - was the artist Richard Dadd, renowned for his minutely detailed fairy paintings which now change hands for huge prices, who was confined for life for the murder of his father. He was encouraged to continue painting and help decorate the new building and its theatre, and some of his work survives there.

Other famous patients have included Ronald Kray, one of the Kray twins; Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper; James Kelly, one of the suspects as the original Jack the Ripper; and William Chester Minor, an American army surgeon, who became one of the most prolific contributors of quotations from Broadmoor when the Oxford English Dictionary was compiled, and who inspired the best-selling novel The Surgeon of Crowthorne.

Broadmoor remains a high-security psychiatric hospital. Despite its grim reputation, and the fact that its designer Joshua Jebb was better known as a prison architect, Broadmoor was seen as an enlightened approach to care rather than imprisonment. It was built on a height in Berkshire with beautiful views, terraces and flowerbeds, and a kitchen garden where the patients grew much of their own food: an Edwardian photograph shows the buildings in a landscaped setting that could be taken for an opulent private home or a hotel.

The NHS wants to demolish one building and replace the walled gardens with housing.

The campaign has been launched by the Victorian Society, which has included the hospital, whose buildings and gardens are listed Grade II, on its list of the 10 most endangered Victorian buildings in the country. Also on the list are a cricket pavilion now cut off from its pitch by a high hedges, a train station closed to the passengers still using its platform, a Leeds flax mill designed as an ancient Egyptian temple that originally had a grass roof with a flock of sheep, and an Edwardian swimming pool in Bradford, which has just been closed by the council and drained of water.

"Broadmoor has suffered from insensitive new buildings, but the old buildings and the grounds survive in remarkably intact condition," Ian Dungavell, director of the Victorian Society, said. "We're not denying that they may not be suitable for a modern psychiatric hospital, but we are questioning whether it might not be better to develop some of the yucky modern buildings that litter the grounds, and consider more carefully the most suitable use for the old buildings. In particularly we're not convinced that a boutique hotel can possibly survive overlooking a new high security hospital."

Dungavell said the recession had triggered a flood of reports to the society of important buildings in trouble, as businesses close and local authorities slash budgets. He believes Manningham Baths, in Bradford, built in 1904, to be the most intact surviving example in the country, complete with ceramic spittoons along the sides of the swimming pool. The local authority closed and drained it in the past few months to save money, and it has since been broken into and vandalised on three occasions.

Dungavell, who swam 104 lengths there in 2008, one for every year of the building, as part of a campaign to highlight the threat to Edwardian and Victorian pools, said: "It is really sad to see the building locked and deteriorating, when it is still surrounded by streets full of people who could be using its facilities."

Other buildings on the Victorian Society's top 10 at-risk list are:

• Ancoats Dispensary, Manchester, built in 1891, Grade II listed

• Bletchley cricket pavilion, 1898, unlisted

• South Eastern railway office, London Bridge, 1900, unlisted

• Wansford railway station, Peterborough, 1845, Grade II listed

• Crumpsall and Cheetham library, Manchester, 1911, Grade II listed

• The Old Rectory, Columb Major, Cornwall, 1851, Grade II listed

• Temple Mill, Leeds, 1843, Grade I listed

• Former YMCA building, Merthyr Tydfil, 1911, Grade II listed


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Marlowe theatre: curtain rises on Canterbury’s £25.6m revamp

Glittering inaugural programme to include everything from Philharmonia Orchestra and Shakespeare to Peppa Pig

The tourists drifting past in boats on the river Stour didn't realise it, but the music they could just hear in the distance was the very first performance in Canterbury's brand new £25.6m Marlowe theatre. Appropriately (for a building in which the first year's programming finds space for Peppa Pig, the 84-strong Philharmonia Orchestra, Peter Pan on Ice and Glyndebourne touring opera), mezzo soprano Rosie Aldridge sang arias from Bizet, Saint Saëns and Gilbert and Sullivan.

The archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams has been in for an approving look – the uncompromisingly modern theatre, surrounded by medieval listed buildings, is clearly visible from the tower of the cathedral, and the view of the cathedral spectacularly fills an entire window in the theatre – but very few of the townspeople have had a chance to see what their taxes were spent on.

At a time when every local authority in the country is slashing culture and other budgets to the bone, the council raised most of the money for the new theatre, and will also own and operate it – and predicts firmly that it will generate more money spent in the area in the first year than they have invested, along with hundreds of direct and indirect jobs.

"We did intend to have a fortnight of just inviting people in for a look, but we ran out of time," Janice McGuinness, head of culture at Canterbury council, said – shouting to make herself heard over the din of drilling and hammering. The stage lighting was still being rigged, and it was impossible to get Aldridge's grand piano into the auditorium, and so the foyer became an impromptu recital space.

The theatre will be opened by Prince Edward (once famously a theatre-company tea boy) on 4 October 2011, and has just announced the first year's programme. Theatre director Mark Everett is bursting with pride over the Philharmonia residency – the first in Kent by a major symphony orchestra; their first concerts are already sold out – and Glyndebourne adding Canterbury to its tour in 2012, but also promises that Cinderella, the first pantomime, will be properly spectacular: "I'm allowed to have a lot to do with that, it's my treat of the year," he said.

There will also be a new show from the Canadian aerial circus company Éloize, Northern Ballet's Nutcracker and the Rambert dance company, Henry V and The Winter's Tale from Propeller, Edward Hall's acclaimed Shakespeare company, big touring musicals including Grease, and the premiere of a new production of Top Hat.

The new theatre, designed by Keith Williams, is actually smaller in volume than the old Marlowe, a 1930s converted Odeon, but has 1,200 bright orange leather-covered seats, 250 more than the old building, and a big enough orchestra pit, backstage space and fly tower to take in major touring musicals, opera and ballet. There is also a 150-seat studio space, where the choreographer Richard Alston will be working with the cathedral choir to create a new piece, A Ceremony of Carols.

For Everett, the moment of highest drama was the night in 2009 when the council finally voted to go for it, not only to flatten the old building but buy the car showroom next door so the site could spill on to the river bank. Everett first came to the Marlowe in 1994. The new theatre takes its eclectic programming from the tatty but much-loved old building, but in the barn-like space the cheapest seats were so far from the stage they might as well have been in the next county.

"Nothing that has happened since has been as scary as that moment," Everett recalled. "The old building was falling to pieces around us, and up to the last minute it was by no means certain which way the vote would go. We'd have made the old building work somehow – the one thing all theatres have is unlimited supplies of gaffer tape and black emulsion. But this is a dream come true."


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Antonine wall fills gaps in story of Roman occupation of Britain

Wall that once marked Roman empire's border in Scotland will give up some of its secrets for Glasgow's Hunterian museum

One of the Roman empire's most enigmatic monuments – the Antonine wall between the firths of Forth and Clyde in Scotland, which briefly marked the northernmost point of the empire between the 140s and 160s AD – is set to reveal some of its secrets.

The elaborately carved sculptures from the wall, brought together for the first time, form the centrepiece of a new gallery at the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow, which has reopened after two years' refurbishment.

The Antonine wall was built early in the reign of Antoninus Pius, Hadrian's successor as emperor, who pushed the Roman border north from Hadrian's wall in order to secure a military victory that would play well back in Rome. According to the director of the Hunterian, Professor David Gaimster: "It was an act of propaganda by an emperor who had not held any significant military command, and its success ensured his position."

The soldiers of the II Augusta, VI Victrix and XX Valeria Victrix legions who built the mighty turf wall – many parts of which can still be seen – carved elaborate "distance slabs" commemorating the sections they had built.

The sculptures are, in general, more elaborate and richly decorated than their counterparts on Hadrian's wall, featuring such scenes as Victory placing a laurel wreath on a Roman legionary standard, and the distinctive mascots of the soldiers' legions: a running boar for the XX; a Pegasus and a Capricorn (after the Emperor Augustus's star sign) for the VI.

The sculptures also clearly project the move north as a splendid military victory: several depict Caledonians being trampled by Roman cavalry, or simply crouching in submission, bound and naked.

The northernmost tip of the empire is frequently imagined as an inhospitable, barbarous zone for its occupiers – but that image is far from the truth, according to Gaimster. The occupiers were, he said, enjoying "as sophisticated a Mediterranean lifestyle as legionaries would have done anywhere else in the empire".

For example, there were bathhouses along the wall, including in what is now the Glasgow suburb of Bearsden, where research has shown the occupiers were eating a diet including olives, figs and wine. Also in the new gallery are fragments of a richly decorated mausoleum found near Kirkintilloch, carved with images of togaed figures reclining on couches. Other objects include precious fragments of glass, delicate intaglios, red Samianware for dining, and – as fresh as the day they were made – adult and children's leather sandals. There is also a hint towards the multi-ethnic makeup of the Roman occupiers: a 15-year-old Middle Eastern boy called Salamenes died near Kirkintilloch, and his tombstone was erected by his father. A single woman – Verecunda – is recorded by her tombstone.

Indeed, the indigenous aristocracy seemed to be enjoying prestige goods from the Roman world before the area was annexed. An Iron Age settlement at Leckie in Stirlingshire has yielded finds of Roman Samianware, glass and a delicate mirror.

Sixteen of the 19 surviving distance slabs have been put on display. The missing three – one is in Edinburgh's National Museum of Scotland, one at Glasgow's Kelvingrove art gallery, and one, having been sold to America, perished in the 1896 fire in Chicago – are represented by casts.

They have all had a richly varied history since their brief service for Rome in the second century. Several were acquired by Scottish antiquaries, and given to the University of Glasgow as early as the turn of the 17th and 18th centuries, before the Hunterian was founded in 1807. One was seen built into the side of a cottage in 1603, and another turned up in a farmer's field in 1969, and Emeritus Professor Lawrence Keppie, an expert on the wall, remembers one of his first jobs at the museum: cleaning off the whitewash with which had been splashed during its sojourn in the farmyard.


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The wild and beautiful Lake District’s ‘serenely sane, practical and rational homes’

The Northerner's arts ambassador Alan Sykes pads round an exhibition about two architects who dreaded what Victorian furniture would do to their austerely lovely work.

Mackay Hugh Baillie Scott and Charles Voysey were leading followers of Philip Webb as arts & crafts architect-designers in late Victorian and Edwardian times.  Both men designed houses near Lake Windermere in the Lake District.  In Baillie Scott's case, Blackwell has been restored to its former glory by the Lakeland Arts Trust (the people who run Kendal's Abbot Hall Art Gallery) and now stands proudly above the eastern side of the lake, boasting an impressive series of temporary exhibitions, including this one.  The Yorkshireman Voysey's Broad Leys, a couple of miles up the lake, is now the home of the Windermere Motor Boat Racing Club, and can also be used as a luxury guest house.

 
Baillie Scott said, in a phrase which would probably irk some of the more extravagant contemporary architects, "the claims of commonsense are paramount".
 
Broad Leys shows its L shape and its great windows open to the west over Windermere, and also the meticulous attention to the finest detail that marked both architects – there is even a cast iron ventilation grille which somebody has adapted to use as a trivet.  The normally curmudgeonly Pevsner was clearly a fan, describing it as Voysey's masterpiece and adding that it is "overlooking Windermere, with … three distinct large curved bay windows stretching from the ground to the first floor, providing magnificent views over the lake."

 
Blackwell reminds us how lucky the Lakeland Arts Trust was with how much of the original interior survived its period as a girls' school and as offices – we can even see the original keys and coat-hooks.  The quality of the building and its setting have long been acknowledged – the German architect Hermann Muthesius described Blackwell as   '…one of the most attractive creations that the new movement in house-building has produced' and credited Baillie Scott with the 'new idea of the interior as an autonomous work of art...each room is an individual creation."
 
Both architects were keen that their vision would not stop with the physical structure of their buildings, but would go down to the smallest details of fittings and furnishings – as Baillie Scott put it: "every architect who loves his work must have his enthusiasm dampened by a prophetic vision of the hideous furniture with which his client will fill his rooms."  He and Voysey got round this by having "formed styles of their own in room decoration, designing everything necessary, from chairs and tables to carpets, wall-papers and window-curtains" – they even designed inkwells and clocks - and both men hated extravagant ornamentation: as Voysey put it, in a domestic interior "we cannot be too simple."  His near contemporary Lutyens said: "No detail was too small for Voysey's volatile brain, and it was not so much his originality – though original he was – as his consistency that proved a source of such delight"

 
The mediaevalism of the arts and crafts movement influenced the size of the rooms: at Blackwell the great entrance hall even includes a minstrels' gallery – although the huge copper light fittings which would have hung over a billiards table do not strike a very Tudor note.

Baillie Scott, a few years younger than Voysey, was clearly an admirer and influenced by his work.  In a generous tribute in "The Studio" magazine in 1907, he wrote "If one were asked to sum up in a few words the scope and purposes of Mr. Voysey's work, one might say that it consists mainly in the application of serenely sane, practical and rational ideas to home making…  And this beauty … is a beauty of which we will never tire and which is above the changing whims of fashion.  Our modern public buildings, which are designed merely to impress the vulgar with histrionic and meaningless architectural features, fail to achieve even this unworthy aim."

Seeing the breadth and vision of the two architects, especially seeing it within the context of the masterpiece of one of them, makes one realize quite how narrow and shoddy most "design and build" contemporary architecture is.
 
MH Baillie Scott and CFA Voysey, the Lake District and beyond: Arts & Crafts Houses and Furnishings is on at Blackwell, Bowness-on-Windermere, until October 30th.
 
 


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Campaign to save historic hospital building

After exhausting all other avenues, developer Urban Splash is seeking permission to demolish Ancoats dispensary


A derelict dispensary that has long been a part of the industrial fabric of Manchester and was immortalised on canvas by LS Lowry could be demolished despite a campaign to save it.

Ancoats Dispensary, which was built in the late 19th century to treat patients who did not qualify for the poor law hospitals but who couldn't afford medical bills, is the only remaining building on the Ancoats Hospital site in Manchester. It is Grade 2 listed and requires permission to be demolished.

Developers Urban Splash is asking Manchester city council if it can to demolish the building after exhausting all other possibilities. It will be discussed at a council meeting next month. The dispensary is in a poor state and would require up to £3m to bring it up to modern standards according to the company.

But campaigners launched on an online petition to save it that is supported by the Victorian Society. A Facebook group has also been launched and, so far, it has 100 likes.

The Northwest Development Agency had planned to put money in to save the building's facade, but it fell by the wayside after the NWDA was scrapped by the government.

Heritage Works, a charity which specialises in finding new ways to preserve old buildings, carried out a study to see if it could find interest in the building.

But despite a number of organisations coming forward, the cost of maintaining the dispensary has deterred them.

LS Lowry famously painted it in 1952 in his work Ancoats Hospital Outpatients' Hall. The painting remained in the city and is now at the Whitworth art gallery.

The hospital has long been a source of community pride. When its casualty department was closed in 1987, residents staged a sit-in. The hospital finally closed fully in 1996 and the dispensary is the only remaining building.

But Chris Costelloe, conservation adviser for the Victorian Society, said: "Ancoats Dispensary must be saved. This last remaining fragment of Ancoats' heritage is an impressive survivor in an area that has already lost most of its historic buildings. It must not become the victim of short-term economic concerns."

The Society believes there is insufficient justification for the destruction of the Grade 2-listed building and is urging Manchester city council to refuse consent. In the application Urban Splash focuses on the current development climate, rather than taking a medium term view as required by Government planning policy, and it considers the building in isolation and not as a relatively small part of a much larger development site.

Costelloe added: "The dispensary needs some investment to be made safe and watertight, but one day it could and should be the heart of a regenerated Ancoats. The case for demolition has not been made."

An Urban Splash spokeswoman said: "Urban Splash made the regrettable decision to make an application to demolish Ancoats Dispensary following an exhaustive three years search for a viable use to save the building. The application to demolish the building will be heard on the 27th October by Manchester's planning committee.

"Over the last three years we have looked at a variety of options including conversion to apartments, conversion to offices and even conversion into an art gallery. We have invested over £1 million in the building. Unfortunately the wider economic conditions have meant that none of these options has been commercially viable.

"The greatest chance of saving the building came in late 2009 with a grant of £1m from the Regional Development Agency and work was started under the terms of that contract. Following the abolition of the RDA by the incoming government, this was one of the many contracts that was axed in an effort by the coalition to save public money, even though the contract works were 8 weeks underway.

"This was the last straw for the building and the reason the application to demolish has been made in order to ensure public safety as the building continues to deteriorate.

"On 1st September, Urban Splash were served with a s77(2) notice of the Building Act 1984 which obliges the company to undertake emergency repairs as 'the building has significantly deteriorated and urgent remedial repairs are required'. These works include the taking down of the central tower and the removal of the top floor arched windows and supporting coping stones.

"These works will be undertaken this week and weekend and the materials will be photographed, catalogued and stored in accordance with the requirements and full co-operation of Manchester city council's conservation officer. This is absolutely not the start of the demolition of the building which cannot be commenced until (and if) consent is received on the 27th."

The developer says it continues to work closely and are in talks with Manchester city council to exhaust any avenues that may still remain open to us in an attempt to find a solution that will mean that the building will still be saved.


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