Cities: Walking The Thames at Night
Places look very different at night.
After dark, bland grey concrete walls can be illuminated with colour. Shadows describe edges that may or may not be there. The eye is led in many directions, down different “virtual alleyways” to those they would follow during the day.
Armed with my iPhone I took a walk along the River Thames, crossing several bridges. Through my photos, you can join me on that stroll!
The 325 metre Millennium footbridge, or “the blade of light”, was designed by a consortium including Foster + Partners. It was built for the year 2000 but closed after a couple of days due to “lateral sway”. Apparently people walking make subtle allowances in their stride for movement in a suspension bridge, and hundreds on it had an amplifying effect and the bridge became dangerous. After 2 years the issue was resolved and the bridge reopened. (I once passed Neil Tennent from The Pet Shop Boys as I crossed that bridge!)
The bridge was quiet tonight, save for a group of “guerrilla marketers” with a big projector and electric generator, throwing a massive image on the side of the Tate Modern art gallery. Something to do with being meat free. Looking back from the split gangway at the end, St Paul’s Cathedral seemed to float above the structure – it’s one of the latest classic views of the dome.
I started my walk from our offices on Victoria Embankment, where the city of London meets the Temple Inn courts. First I crossed Blackfriars Bridge. Here, alongside one of many of London’s lost rivers, (the “Holebourn” which gave the name to a London ditrict) a Dominican monastery was built, the monks wearing black robes giving the name to this area. By 1875, the medieval religious buildings had long gone, replaced by a pub (The Black Friar – where I may possibly have had the odd pint after work in long ago summers!)
Crossing the bridge and looking west, I stopped halfway to admire the sunset, the blue neon of Sea Containers House and the red letters of the windows of the OXO tower. The latter is a very interesting building, as at the time of its refurbishment around a hundred years ago, advertising along the riverfront was banned. Owned by the famous meat stock company, after the redesign, the windows “coincidentally” spelt OXO, the name of the product – a neat way of getting around the marketing problem! The stock cubes and the tower are both still going strong.
On the Southbank, I headed west towards Westminster.
It is not always appreciated that ‘The City of London’ still covers the original “square mile” area from Roman times and that Westminster is a different city altogether (although now it, and hundreds of other former villages, are consumed into a wider concept of London, the metropolis). The south bank has always been that little bit rebellious, being just across the river from London, where in ancient times the laws of the city did not extend.
The Southbank is also home to some incredible “brutalist” style buildings. many of which date from the 1951 “Festival of Britain” a showcase of British technology and art. The festival covered a large area of this bank, and these new designs in architecture reflected the brave new world – not replacing the bomb damaged city like for like, but pressing on with building reflecting the latest styles. As I walked by, the concrete forms seemed to rise up due to the “under glow” and the throbbing blocks of bright projected colour almost give these buildings life, like a heart beat. Opposite, the grand curves of offices above Charing Cross Station seem to imply a grand railway terminus in pink and orange neon, but it’s all for show, the station itself and lines are all hidden below.
A vision in bright purple, the world’s tallest cantilevered observation wheel, The London Eye towered above me. This was opened on 31st December 1999 and only supposed to run for 5 years, but due to its popularity it is still here. I looked up as the smell of roasting chestnuts drifted from a nearby seller. Music from buskers, and the laughter of those enjoying the night, was carried on the wind. Staring across the river, the small light chains that spread between ornate lampposts seemed to frame the cityscape. Like an old face looking into the bulb-edged mirror in a theatre changing room, beyond these lights the city was in its glamorous “evening makeup”, the lipgloss of light and “imperfections” dressed in colour. It was a good place to pause.
Crossing Westminster Bridge, I was drawn as usual towards the Houses of Parliament. On a night like this one, the lights of the city are trapped by the low cloud, so you get the feel of 1950s film noir – full of drama, long shadows and atmosphere. I almost expected Watson and Holmes to appear from a gate in the railings. What did appear on the railings, as is now ubiquitous, were the locks attached by passing lovers. I was reminded of the railway bridge in Cologne, Germany where I saw thousands of locks, so many it’s amazing the bridge still stands. Do they refit and cut them off when the relationship go sour? Maybe they just buy a new lock as the catalyst for finding a new partner!
Just beyond, in Westminster Square, the blowing coat and outstretched hand of David Lloyd George guided me to follow the statue of Winston Churchill, shuffling with his walking stick towards the bells of Big Ben.
Heading up past Downing Street, I sat on the edge of the fountains in Trafalgar Square for a quick drink (coke not fountain water), and watched as the statues went through their range of several colours (I decided green looked best!). Designed by Sir Edwin Landseer Lutyens, I had seen a lot of his work on another one of my big city walks in Delhi as he designed many of the grand government and ceremonial buildings there. In that city, something new and fitting a holistic architectural plan was created, in juxtaposition with the old city, Apparently Lutyens had a similar “grand plan” blueprint for the rebuilding of London after WWII – it was rejected. Probably just as well – as we now have the more organic “hotch-potch” of buildings across this city.
A previous “grand plan” was implemented after the previous razing of the city, by fire in 1666. In medieval times, the original St Pauls was the second longest church in the world and the third highest, and in quite a state, but it was gutted by the flames before it could deteriorate further. The new St Pauls was designed by Sir Christopher Wren as were 50 other churches throughout the rebuilt city. Although those are on almost every corner, I was instead heading for St Mary le Strand, a place of worship built in the early 18th century (pictured above left), for a classical music performance within it’s baroque interior. Constructed on an “island” between two roads, the surrounding streets were apparently very noisy even in the 1700s, hence the main body of the church was built with no windows at ground level.
After a great hour of Chopin, I continued my journey onwards towards St Pauls and Ludgate Hill where I was staying the night.
Passing St Paul’s Cathedral I visited two lesser known monuments.
The first, aptly illuminated in red and gold is the National Firefighters Monument, a three figure statue of firemen at the height of the blitz in 1940 when German bombers attacked the city for 57 consecutive nights. The black and white photo of St Pauls surrounded by the smoke of destruction is a familiar but still powerful image of that time. I was quite pleased with this photo of red, white and a smidge of blue against the black sky. Enough to render it “patriotic” perhaps?
In 1998 the memorial was extended to commemorate all firefighters killed on duty. There are currently over 1200 names on the surrounding metal plaques,
The second item is an elaborate water fountain with an interesting history. Within the ornate design are statues to St Lawrence and St Mary Magdalene, and this was one of many water fountains erected across the city following The Metropolitan Water Act in 1852. Various societies were set up to supply clean water.
In a situation (sadly) not unlike today, water supply in England was dominated by a few private water companies. The difference then was that instead of having amongst the best water quality in the world (as we do today), the country had experienced significant population increase and quality and quantity of drinking water were both poor, and disease rife. A public drinking fountain movement started in Liverpool, but soon spread to London with “The Metropolitan Drinking Fountain and Cattle Trough Association” being formed to ensure:
“That no fountain be erected or promoted by the Association which shall not be so constructed as to ensure by filters, or other suitable means, the perfect purity and coldness of the water”
This fountain was moved here a few years ago after being rediscovered in a warehouse. It acts as a memorial to those times when the basic right to clean drinking water was not always satisfied, even in the “first world”.
It had been a busy evening, and with work in the morning it was now time to head to bed.
It amazing how much you can explore in an evening, just on foot. The streets are quieter and the landmarks often more pronounced.
