A walk on the vile side: underwhelmed by Nine Elms' hottest properties

Not so inviting on a dull winter's day, perhaps. The much talked about Sky Pool, 10 storeys above the Embassy Gardens zone of the Nine Elms, Battersea and Vauxhall development - seen here with its sun screen half extended. 

 
Work never stopped on the Battersea, Nine Elms & Vauxhall development over the long months of covid-19, and many of its supposedly headline projects are nearing completion. We've seen 'em (nearly) all...the Sky Pool, Frank Gehry's skew-whiff apartment blocks, Foster's voids, the rich doors, and the poor doors. The question which arises most often is: Why?

In the third lockdown, I started doing longer walks, sometimes with my support bubble friend for some mutual grumbling about anything or nothing.

Several times the stroll took us a mile north to that strip of oddly mismatched new buildings going up along the river, from Battersea Power Station to Vauxhall, aka the "Vauxhall Nine Elms Battersea opportunity area" (VNEB).

Each time there are new things to gasp at. Yes, we had more to gasp about this time as well - though not so much in admiration, but in dismay and disbelief.

Affordable housing? Maybe not quite within your average budget, but nice and close to the
Portuguese cafés and Tesco on Wandsworth Road.

We approach from the large area of industrial units and scrapyards that border the Patmore Estate, Wandsworth Road to the south and Nine Elms Lane. 

Turning right from Stewart's Road we come up against the first bits of the redevelopment. 

The first, and to be honest the only entirely positive note of the whole journey is struck by the cheerfully re-painted rail bridge, which is a defact gateway separating old and new Battersea at this point. 

Sorry, this dark photo does not do the brilliant colours of 
Yinka Ilori's artwork, Happy Street, any justice whatsoever.
I'll revisit soon on a sunnier day (or with a better camera)

The underside of this - one of many very wide railway bridges in the area - was transformed by the artist Yinka Ilori as part of the 2019 London Festival of Architecture. 

The installation is called "Happy Street" and the vividly coloured panels and patterns do indeed inspire happier feelings in what used to be a dark and dirty tunnel.

It's worth remembering that this street once housed the Ramport Studios, an old church hall where many of The Who's singles and LPs were recorded. And that their then drummer, the late Keith Moon, once took it upon himself to become a temporary lollipop man at the zebra crossing, after a number of accidents involving local schoolkids. 

All that's left of that era is a green plaque on the wall of the former studios, now a health centre. But at least it's still there and being put to good use (I know of Who fans who try to get onto those GPs lists, just to enter the hallowed former recording areas).

Our joy was short-lived, however, as we encounter the half-built "affordable homes", nondescript low-rise apartment blocks at the southern edge of the development, as far as possible from the showpieces around the power station and along the river. They appear to be using cladding in a most unappealing lilac shade.

A windswept and dusty walk along Nine Elms Lane took us to the "Embassy Gardens" district, with its Waitrose, the scattered sculptures (a massive bronze courgette and an even bigger disembodied foot) and its canyons of glass and brick cladding, which feel more like walking in an architect's computer simulation than real life. 

All this has been there for several years now - but then there are some newer bits behind and to the east of the US Embassy building. There you are faced with two large blocks clad in what look like ceramic tiles in a very fetching bottle green. Closer inspection reveals these tiles to be large pre-fabricated panels.

As you walk between the blocks, look up and gawp at one of Nine Elm's star turns - yes, it's the  Sky Pool. About 150ft from the ground, a large transparent water tank stretches from one building to another. It is certainly an eye-catching feature; you just hope the acrylic material is as strong as it needs to be.  As we stare upward, a sort of sunblind slowly extedns along the bottom of the pool. Presumably this is to protect it, and to prevent the pool focussing  the sun's rays onto to some unsuspecting parked supercar below (as happened, notoriously, with the Walkie Talkie in it firsto autumn). 

Or maybe it's to preserve the modesty of some of the less exhibitionist super-rich bathers; imagine a crowd of long-focus paparazzi just waiting down below for some minor celeb or a footballer's girlfriend or whoever. A cheaper solution of course would be to swim in a different pool.

Meanwhile, pity whoever gets the flats just beneath each end of the pool. Imagine the dread of hearing that first drip, drip, drip sound. An interesting Guardian piece on the development includes interviews with just such early occupants of some of the more affordable apartments - which do not, of course, have access to the luxuries of the penthouse floors.

The US Embassy itself stands there silently, watching your every movement, behind its many layers of security and defence, including a full-blown medieval-style moat. The new Embassy had its unofficial baptism by protest last summer when the Black Lives Matter demo crossed the river from Westminster to take its message to the US front door. It was a peaceful and dignified demo, but the Embassy building seems so unreadable, impenetrable, and aloof that it was hard to tell if there was anyone in there to listen to the speakers.

One thing for sure - would be residents of the nearby apartments must get used to sounds of hovering helicopters and sirens, armed police and road closures on a regular basis.

We were hoping to move south from here to get to the nearly-complete Nine Elms tube station, then around to the huge towers that are rising across the road from the dreaded St George's Tower, aka the lethal Duracell.

But there's no quick access at this point at the moment. Eventually the "linear park" will link the two sides of the rail lines which divide this bit of the development, apparently.

So, back towards Battersea and another of the jewels in the developer's crown. As you approach the southern end of the power station, to your left are the near-complete, twisty looking apartment blocks designed by Frank Gehry of Bilbao Guggenheim fame. 

Frank Gehry's trademark wonkiness looks interesting close up, less so from 
any distance. No two apartments are the same, they say. 
Doubt I'll ever have the chance to check that out.

From some angles they look quirky, with apartments sprouting outwards like the segments of some exotic fruit. 

Seen from a little further away, however, these buildings have the bulky look of all the other blocks which now entirely enclose the old power station. 

The pattern of light and dark grey cladding which zig-zag over this set of buildings resembles, from a distance,  arctic camouflage of old warships, though a very undazzling version of it.

The great pièce de resistance of this part of the development - Gehry's titanium-clad Flower tower - is not yet visisble, at least not from the route we took. Early architect's impressions of this building were indeed more like what one expects from a "starchitect", and they featured in the hoardings lining Nine Elms Lane at one point.

Is it yet to be built, or is it hidden behind all these other bulky blocks?

Just to the west of the Gehry buildings is another huge, serpentine  construction, 15 storeys high with two large  voids acting as giant peepholes in a colossal barrier. This building, a product of the local Foster & Partners studio,  has echoes the famous Byker Wall in Newcastle, or in Sheffield's Park Hill estate. Or even closer to home, the Barrier Block on Coldharbour Lane in Brixton - though I doubt the developers would welcome these comparisons.

This forms another layer of the defences surrounding the Power Station, and is also the site of the much-lauded Battersea  roof gardens. Together the Gehry and Foster developments trace the route of a new "high street", all or part of which will be named "Electric Boulevard" - a nod to the former purpose of the power station, rather than a trbute to the famous shopping avenue in Brixton.

As for the power station, well this grand old dame has been given a thorough wash and brush up, a scouring and re-glazing, so that it looks as good - and as bland - as new. In fact it looks like the whole building has been replaced by a giant cardboard model. At the southern end, work is progressing on what seems to be small amphitheatre. 

I remeber my first visits to the Canary Wharf area in the late 80s, and feeling I was in a film set for a Dallas-based TV series: the people were all too smartly dressed and well-groomed to be real, everything was too clean and shiny. The VNEB area has the same feel only more so, and it also lacks something that Canary Wharf has in all too obvious abundance - a reason for being there. 

The smells of London's lockdowns, part one: Toilets, toilets everywhere - but never a place to pee...

It's surely one of the most stinging ironies of these lockdown months. While the number of available public conveniences has reduced drastically as a result of austerity and Covid-19, there are actually many more toilets horribly visible to anyone who walks the streets of this or any other gentrified or gentrifying inner-London suburb.

Apart from the loos in the larger supermarkets, which are often as not out of order, I can only think of one public toilet in this postcode that is reliably open during the hours of daylight. 

Remember those first hot weeks of the first lockdown when parks - and especially Clapham Common - began to reek, not just of the normal dog-shit but of something more acrid? Beer and prosecco-tinged urine. It got to the point where the council had to provide portaloos.

But padlocked, private versions of these same, sentry-box sized erections were already popping up all around us. 

Thanks to the phenomenon noted in much of the media, the bored super-rich all seemed to get the same idea - use their lockdown time and loose change to effect complete gutting and refurbs of their metropolitan properties. 

So you suddenly see lots of those blue or yellow plastic boxes outside every house that is having its innards replaced by something even more expensive.

Yes, I'm referring to those portaloos for builders that are now overflowing  (hope not literally) onto the residential pavements of South, North, East and West London. What's happened? In the past builders and decorators were quite happy to use the owner's loo when it was needed. And owners always used to let them do so, as well as offering them cups of tea and coffee, assuming there was a functioning kitchen.

But now, the entire family moves out to one of its other properties - maybe in the Cotswolds, or maybe somewhere more exotic.  So the builders have the place to themselves. Except, it seems, for the bathrooms. Perhaps the owners cannot bear the idea of not-quite-so-rich people using their gold-plated sanitary facilities. 

I can't help feeling slightly uneasy as I pass one of these private conveniences, which are sometimes only inches from a narrow pavement.  Or even on it. 

I side step, as if trying to observe social distancing: in doing so I often forget to look down and end up treading in the latest dog-do, miniature or massive. (Why do lockdown dog owners not seem to know about bagging the dirt? Another article there - but, no, don't worry,  that's one thing I can't face writing about.)

In theory the builder-bogs are emptied at least twice a week. I know this becuase I have watched the waste removal tankers pulling up across the road, to that house which has been undergoing god knows what improvements and additions for more than a year now. 

Even if you don't see this operation, you hear it as the powerful suction pumps blast into action. It's almost as noisily annoying as the dreaded leaf-blowers, which continue to shatter everyone's peace every Monday morning.

So, this is lockdown, Clapham style. Around five of the 120 or so houses in this streeet have had new super-basements excavated during the last year. There's hardly been a days when there have not been teams of workers arriving at 8am, followed soon after by the first deliveries of cement, sand, timber, steel, paving, glass, grass, porphyry washbasins and marble baths, Aga cookers, elizabethan bedsteads, Hollywood size tvs. You name it.

So, it's clear that London's wealthiest homeowners can assume they are exempt from all lockdown restrictions when it comes to building work. And are those builders also exempt? Have you ever seen a builder wearing a mask on site? Maybe they have the same immunity as professional footballers on the pitch.

I will stop moaning here and now, for a day or two. It was good to get that off my chest. I envy those workers the easy access to a toilet at work, as well as the many cigarettes they get through on the porches and open upper windows of thier clients' fourth of fifth homes. This is good: as I say in almost every posting, these days, at least these guys and (not so often) women have some paid work during lockdown. 

Thank you and good night. 

Developers seek permission to demolish historic Tearooms building

Is this the end for the building that once housed the famous Tearooms des Artistes?

This entry comes quite soon after the last one, which I hope is not too much of shock to my readership. The reasons for this hasty posting will become clear.

Passing the still intact Tearooms building at 697 Wandsworth Road for the thousandth time since lockdown, I noticed something distinctly sinister.

Tied to a signpost there's a laminated notice, stained by rain and rust, but still legible.

It was one of those Lambeth Council Planning Permission notices which, when you see them, you instantly know another beloved local feature will soon disappear to make way for yet another apartment block. 

The notice looked like it had been there for years, so I thought maybe those developers had had second thoughts.

No such luck. I took photos and read it at home, with a sinking heart. You can read the whole thing on the Lambeth Planning Applications database - including around 100 supplementary documents, as well as 8 comments (all in favour). If you don't have the time, here are a few crucial points:

"20/01227/FUL | Redevelopment of the site, involving refurbishment and extension of the existing building at no: 693-695 and replacement of no : 697 with 3 new storey building to create nine residential units (Use Class C3) and the retention of the Public House at no 693-695 at lower and ground floor levels, together with the provision of cycle and refuse stores, landscaping and courtyards. | 693 - 697 Wandsworth Road London SW8 3JF

To make this clear, the application relates to two buildings. 693-695 Wandsworth Road is the big old pub building on the corner of Wandsworth Road and North Street. 

In its final incarnation it was a nightspot, the Artesian Well, a place which specialised in lavish faux-Bohemian decor and (according to a friend, who went once) a clientele including many public school kids from Surrey who were competing for their Duke of Edinburgh's Award in decadence. But maybe this is unfair. It was certainly extremely popular right up its demise in 2014, seen by many as the interesting face of Clapham nightlife, as opposed to the meat-market reputation of the High Street clubs.

The second building, at 697, was the Tearooms des Artistes, a place which was known and loved by many from the early 80s through to its demise in around 2006, when it became a posher and more pricey bar called Lost Society, which lasted another few years. Since 2014 it's been left in the hands of Lowe property guardians, and looks little changed.  Well, at least it is providing some genuinely affordable housing.

I shared some of my own happy memories of this place a few years ago, and was delighted when several others added comments and  links to more info on this lost gem of south London's alternative hospitality spots.  Some great memories emerge, including the fact that the late Marc Bolan's pink Bentley was parked outside for a long period in the 90s. 

I have to thank Baz for some amazing info, including some history he found on the Wayback Machine web archive, which suggests the building went back to the 16th century, when it was a barn on the Clapham Manor estate (any further info on this would be amazing). Baz also built a site for the Tearooms, and some of his extremely evocative photos - can still be seen on the Wayback Machine, here - including bits of the ancient structure. Surely evidence enough to slap of high-grade listing on this building!

One attempt to redevelop was kicked out by Lambeth council in 2015. The new application, from April 2020, still awaits a decision.

The architects for the developer and would-be demolishers, Marston Properties Limited, are dismissive of the old building. It's useful to quote their reasons at length:

"At ground floor the fascia and shop front has been completely replaced with modern fabric of no visual or architectural merit. In the process, a large steel beam was inserted to open up the shopfront which was used as ‘Regional Tyre Services Ltd’ in the 1960s-70s, which has subsequently resulted in structural damage to the façade.

"There are no features of merit internally.

"At most the building makes a neutral contribution to the character of the conservation area. It’s (sic) relationship within the streetscape is awkward; it lacks connection with the terraces to the west and the former Artesian Well to the east. 

3.28 Given the assessment that the building is at best a neutral contributor with many detracting elements (shop front etc.), Heritage Collective concludes that overall the high-quality replacement building as proposed would represent an enhancement of the Conservation Area. 

Even if the Council remains unconvinced in this regard and retains the stance that the building is a positive contributor, its loss as proposed is acknowledged by the Officers to fall within the less than substantial harm category. 

3.29 In such cases a weighing exercise is required setting on the one hand the less than substantial harm and on the other the public benefits that flow from this scheme. In this case the benefits include the redevelopment of a poor quality redundant site, removal and replacement of harmful features, poor quality windows, railings etc., securing a beneficial and long term future for the site, the re-opening of a community facility (the pub), the provision of nine new high quality homes and the delivery of a highly efficient, sustainable new building..."

And so on, and on, and on. Thus do developers nail all opposition to the floor, thrashing them with fine phrases and vacuous arguments.

Not that the quoted "Heritage Collective" is a consultancy, not to be confused with an official heritage body.

Quite what a "neutral contributor" to the conservation area means is unclear to this writer at least. To us, and anyone who once visited the Tearooms at any point through its various phases, from hippyish vegetarian restaurant/wine bar/club to the après clubbing chill down nest of Sunday best in the 90s and 2000s, the sight of this unique place is a blessed reminder of a more interesting Clapham, before the anodyne clumps of tasteful luxury apartments started popping up like weeds.

The application was still active in January this year, when the architects submitted some modifications to their designs. All of these are available to view on the planning archive. According to the website the application expires on April 15. 

It's too late to submit objections, but I do wonder why the wealth of history associated with these buildings seems to be entirely ignored in this application. I wonder if any archaeologists have ever been there to look for some Tudor era oyster shells....