Art Deco shops

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I've written elsewhere in this blog about how, in Britain, the architecture of the 1920s and 1930s was very conservative, noting but not, in the main embracing, the forward-looking developments of Europe and the United States.

This often manifested itself in a style that is sometimes called "stripped classical" with recognisably Greek,  Roman or Renaissance-derived columns, entablatures etc pared down to plainer, un-archaeological forms; a reluctant nod to Modernism. The style known as Art Deco and its synonyms or variants, Moderne and Jazz Moderne and Streamline Modern, also used classical forms in this way, but more enthusiastically and with the introduction of newer and different elements. British cinemas of the 1930s frequently adopted this style, as did quite a few factories and even power stations. On the high street Marks and Spencer's architects used white stone with classical, streamline and even Central American motifs in an attempt to show their modernity. The men's clothing store that was found in most large towns and cities - Burton - also adopted this approach.

On our recent visit to Hull I photographed the main windows of the curved facade of the Burton store at the top of Whitefriargate. This building dates from 1935 and is the work of the store's architect, Harry Wilson. It is faced in a veneer of black marble slabs with tall, narrow window bands featuring attenuated glazing bars. The central windows are given a "classical" emphasis with a pair of pilasters. However, the capitals are, if we are to compare them with anything, stripped down Egyptian! The balconies have iron-work featuring curved bars, not unlike those on the step ventilators of the Art Deco doorway of Hull railway station's hotel. The colour of the paintwork is gold, making the building stand out even more from its much more staid neighbours.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 23mm (46mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6 Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
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Art Deco doorway

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English architecture of the 1930s was relatively unadventurous compared with that which was being built in continental Europe and the United States. The only buildings that can stand with the modernist structures across the water were built either by emigres fleeing the turmoil of pre-war Europe e.g. , the De La Warr Pavilion of Erich Mendelsshon and Serge Chermayeff, or by the small group of British architects e.g.Wells Coates, Maxwell Fry and Owen Williams, who were influenced by their continental and U.S. colleagues. The majority of English architects in the 1930s built very traditionally and acknowledged modern trends mainly by the application of decorative elements such as metal window frames with horizontal glazing bars, inappropriate flat roofs, or "Moderne" features using stripped down decorative elements, often drawn from classical precedents. A very few architects embraced the decorative tics of Art Deco, a style that had more success in the decorative arts than in architecture.

The other day, on one of our visits to Hull, we visited the Paragon railway station hotel (now the Royal Hotel, formerly the Royal Station Hotel), a fine stone building of 1849 by the architect G. T. Andrews. This is one of the few central Hull buildings that largely escaped the devastating bombing that the city suffered in WW2. A serious fire in 1990 saw careful rebuilding and consequently today we can admire its composition, carving and imposing facade. We can also enjoy the Art Deco doorway that was added to the entrance from the station concourse in the 1930s. This very theatrical entry has a rounded arch that echoes those of the older building. However, it is simplified, involves white glass illuminated from inside, and has decorative "curls" at the bottom. A glazed "overdoor" is also in very simply composed stained glass. The classical setting is acknowledged by the royal coat of arms that surmounts the doorway, and by the discreet brackets at the top left and right. Decorative metalwork can be seen in the ventilators in the centre of the steps. The whole composition feels like something lifted out of a 1930s cinema, or an American city, and in this context inserts a welcome note of gaiety that all too few people seem to notice.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 48mm (72mm - 35mm equiv.)
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Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
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Image Stabilisation: On

Art Deco and the Adelphi

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Between the years of 1768 and 1772 the architect brothers, Robert and James Adam, built a group of Thames-side streets and grand terraces called the Adelphi. The name is very appropriate, coming from the Greek, "adelphoi", meaning brothers. The project was on a grand scale. It involved embanking the river, demolishing and removing the remains of Durham House, then building their new scheme using large amounts of their own money. The undertaking nearly bankrupted them and a lottery was needed to get them out of their financial predicament. The most striking part of the Adelphi was the riverside terrace. It stood on arched vaults and was composed in what was by then a common style - with emphasised centre and "pavilion" ends - making the whole appear rather like one majestic building or a transplanted country house. However, unlike most examples the centre and terrace ends barely projected, very shallow pilasters doing the job instead. It was rather like the Adam brothers had transplanted their interior decoration to the main elevation.

The Adelphi was demolished in the 1930s to make way for the enormous Art Deco buildings that now stand on the site of the brothers' imaginative scheme. Today's photograph shows the main pair - the Adelphi Building and Shell Mex House. Despite the great numbers of Art Deco (formerly more commonly known as Moderne) buildings that were constructed the history of twentieth century architecture sees the style as something of a disappointing dead-end. It doesn't fit neatly into the line that stretches from Gropius, through Mies and Le Corbusier, to Philip Johnson, S.O.M., Foster, Stirling, Rogers and the rest. Rather than the break with the past that these architects represent, Art Deco is seen as a continuation of classicism, an updating of it certainly, but tradition dressed in modified clothing nonetheless.

There is some truth in that point of view, but it shouldn't blind us to the decorative style and exuberance that Art Deco often displays, or to the monumentality that sometimes sits quite well alongside older buildings in a city. When I stood on the South Bank to take this photograph across the Thames I reflected that the simple, gigantic clock on Shell Mex House could belong to no other time than the 1930s, and the uplighting of both buildings seemed to work so well with their windows and their stepped back floors.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28.2mm (76mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
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Midland Hotel, Morecambe

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The Midland Hotel in Morecambe, Lancashire was built in 1932-3 for the London, Midland and Sottish Railway Company by the architect, Oliver Hill (1888 - 1967). It replaced a Victorian design by Edward Paley, with Hill being required to construct "a building of international quality in the modern style." Hill was an architect who moved from the Arts and Crafts tradition to modernism, or at least what passed for modernism in 1930s Britain: more Art Deco or "moderne" than the full-blown European model.

His curving design at Morecambe is a fine piece of work that still looks good today. It has a main entrance elevation that faces the town and a liner-like facade overlooking the sea. When I first saw it as a child in the 1950s it impressed with its size, and its whiteness. As I grew and became more interested in architecture I liked the banded windows, the prominent, bowed and glazed central stairwell (though I could have done without the sea horses), the Mendelsohn-like curved projection at one end and the spiral entrance pillars. Over the years as the sea-side resort declined so too did the Midland Hotel. It became grubby, something of a faded beauty whose charms could only just be glimpsed beneath the weeds and peeling paintwork. However, in recent years the building has been redeveloped by Urban Splash. I say redeveloped rather than restored because some sensitive changes have been made with the result that The Midland Hotel is once more the most noticeable and architecturally most outstanding building in Morecambe.

I was pleased to be able to photograph the Midland on a day with enough sun, blue sky and clouds to capture a holiday mood that suits it. It looked stunning, though I'm not so sure about the comfort-factor of those angular cafe chairs.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
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F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800
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Image Stabilisation: On