Flats by the Regent's Canal, London

click photo to enlarge
Britain once styled itself a "nation of house owners". This was by way of contrast with other European countries where flat (apartment) dwelling was much more common. It was always something of an overstatement, because major UK cities, in particular, always had a lot of flats, and so too did some large towns. However, there was some truth to it. But, no longer. The increasing cost of housing, the rapidly growing population, the tendency for people to live in smaller family units (or singly), and the pressure on spare land on our relatively small island have produced a real change in the past thirty or forty years. Flats have sprung up everywhere.

Even small towns have flats now, and large cities have ever increasing numbers, either newly built or converted from commercial, business or industrial premises. Nowhere is this more noticeable than in London. Today's photograph shows some of the balconies on a block of flats built on land by the Regent's Canal in Islington, London. They are unexceptional as flats go. What prompted my photograph was the way that each balcony, in some small way, appeared to tell something of the owner. I was interested in what the owners had chosen to put there out of either desire or necessity - table and chairs, bicycle, pot plants, barbecue, washing, nothing.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Flats by the Regent's Canal, Islington, London
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 52mm (104mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.5
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Canada Water balconies

click photo to enlarge
There's nothing like the perspective that age brings to make you realise that you're not so different from everyone else. Take balconies. What do you think of when the word is mentioned?  With me it's Romeo and Juliet. And guess what? That's the association that most people make. It's when you get past that first pairing that the differences start to appear. I'd have to say that next, for me, the association is with dictators, perhaps Mussolini, and then it's the Pope.

Interestingly those three associations are all Italian. And equally interestingly, the English word derives from the Italian, "balcone". One of my sons lives in a London flat with two balconies. The largest is traditional, projecting out past the walls of the room and supported on brackets. The other is a "Juliet" balcony, the name given to a floor to ceiling window or doors in an uper exterior wall that has a barrier or rail across it to prevent anyone falling out. This type, of course, gets its name from Shakespeare's play and character though, in fact, the playwright never mentions a balcony of any sort, only a window.

Today's offering shows a detail of some London balconies we saw recently on flats near Canada Water in Southwark, London. We walked past them the other day on the way to the nearby Underground station and their undulations, much more pronounced when seen from below, attracted my eye. The wave-like forms, the sheen of the glass, the touch of red and the deep shadows appealed to me and prompted my photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.4mm (39mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The appeal of Regency buildings

click photo to enlarge

I like Georgian buildings. In Lincolnshire they are relatively common and their good sense, fine proportions, and the way they fit comfortably into a streetscape or the countryside is always a pleasure to behold. I'm more choosy about Victorian buildings. The innovation for innovation's sake is sometimes fun but other times wearisome. The heaviness of a lot of the buildings and details can jar. As can the machine-like details of stonework, terracotta etc. However, when a Victorian architect is on song the muscular vigour of a building can be very winning.

In English architectural history there is a short period between the Georgian and Victorian ages, the Regency, that is longer than the period from 1811-1820 when the Prince Regent ruled in place of his unfit father, George III. In terms of building style it is usually thought of as spanning the years from about 1800 until around 1830. The characteristics of the fashionable buildings of those years owes more to Georgian architecture than the Victorian that followed but clearly differs and is very easily spotted once your eye has learnt what to look for.

"Elegant" is the word that, for me, best describes Regency buildings, especially town houses. They have a spare, stripped, light look where fine details contrast with smooth, blank (often light coloured) areas. Doors and windows that are round-topped are common, and often these are set into a larger, recessed round-topped blank arch. Shutters were fashionable and still remain on many buildings. Balconies with delicate iron-work railings can often be seen at first-floor windows. The Georgian tradition of the size of window indicating the importance of the rooms behind continues, and the top of the buildings are usually "closed" with smaller windows. Flat columnar pilasters frequently divide or frame building facades, though the simplified "capitals" that surmount them would be as foreign to a Georgian architect as they would be to one from ancient Greece or Rome. Tall, shallow, bow-fronted bays are a fairly sure sign of a Regency building, as are strongly projecting eaves on long brackets. There is a great emphasis on the main facade at the expense of the back of the building, though that is a feature of most Georgian and Victorian town houses too.

Many of these characteristics can be seen in Rutland Terrace in Stamford, Lincolnshire (above and yesterday's post), and those that don't can be found in the buildings of this period elsewhere in the town. My criticisms in the previous post of the builders' changes across the whole facade during the years in which they built the terrace notwithstanding, I do like much that is on offer here. There are certainly many worse solutions to relatively high density urban living.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 120mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Speculators and Rutland Terrace

click photo to enlarge

In theory there's nothing wrong with the idea of speculatively built private housing. The notion that someone puts up the money, has houses built, then advertises and sells them to members at the public for a profit has much to commend it, and most new housing does follow this model. However, in practice - and I speak only of the UK here - it can leave much to be desired.

The danger, as I see it, is that the pursuit of profit leads the speculator to produce housing that is sub-standard in materials and design, and aesthetically banal or just downright bad. It's not difficult to find examples that display one or more, and sometimes all, of these features. In fact, the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) last year called much new UK housing "shameful shoebox homes" because they are simply too small for people to live in comfortably, and lack the space to hold both people and the furnishings and possessions that are common today. That's not to say that all housing is bad, there is plenty that is well-built, commodious and looks good. However, too much is none of these things. When you look back at the history of housing you find that speculative building often resulted in this mix of good and bad, with bad being far too common. New, low-cost, privately built housing was so bad in the early years of the twentieth century that in 1919 parliament passed the Housing, Town Planning, &c. Act, a provision of which required local authorities to build housing. This they did, usually to a higher standard than the private sector, showing what could and should be achieved with limited funds.

I was reflecting on this when I was photographing Rutland Terrace in Stamford, Lincolnshire, recently. This row of twenty houses was speculatively built for a relatively wealthy clientele between 1829 and 1831, during the period that architectural historians refer to as the Regency. (In architecture the period extends to the onset of Queen Victoria's reign). What struck me was that the builder(s) started at the east and created a white stucco facade with a balcony at each first floor window, then built a middle section faced in Ancaster stone with a tall, covered balcony, and finally completed the western end also in stone, but with balconies that spanned the first floor windows of each property. In other words within architectural constraints - type and size of doors and windows, overall size etc - they deliberately introduced difference in the long facade. Was it whim or the following of fashion that caused this change? Whatever the reason it makes for a rather odd appearance, and is a departure from the usual co-ordinated, overall design of such terraces. In fact, it reminded me of the way builders today often construct the same house design across a site but differentiate one from the other by the colour of bricks or the shade of roof tile that they use.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 60mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On