Tag Archives: architecture

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An evening ride on the No.8 into Soho, London

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A big pleasure for me on this trip was that the No.8 was able to reach Soho without having to divert, or jam solid, due to roadworks around Holborn.

With those delays gone, I was able to sit back and listen to the Saturday-happy chat of those behind me, as I watched London preparing to enjoy itself through the window. At one stop, a large clutch of young women boarded the bus. They were dressed for a night out and already wobbly on their heels. I heard them laughing as they clambered in, cheerful and unworried until there was a sudden cry of alarm. The chat paused briefly then rose again with a note of panic as the whole laughing flock realised they were trying to head to who knew where, and the bus wasn’t. As we swung away from the stop, I saw them gathered back together on the pavement, feathers fluffed and shining as they pondered their options.

The group’s mood matched that spilling over the streets between Tottenham Court Road and Covent Garden. The lights were shining on the wet pavements, and the theatres looked busy, everyone relieved that the day’s rain had passed.

I cut through the back routes to get to my destination – the huge Foyles bookshop open until 9pm. As I stepped out of a smaller road to cross the main road, I looked up to see the building beside Foyle’s shining in front of me. Last time I had seen it covered in scaffolding, now there it was gleaming in brazen golds, the only blemishes being the few railings that still clung to its hem like safety pins.

I hurried past it to get where I was going, and then admired it again on my way back. It did not look that tall, but it did seem to have more than its fair share of Soho magic.

As soon as I got back I looked the building up, and discovered that it is called Ilona Rose House. So far I can only find daylight images of it, demure in pink and nothing like the building in the picture above. If the building I saw is the Ilona Rose, all I can say is that it transforms at night. Just like Sandy in Grease it changes into something a little different.

Perhaps that’s what Soho does to the best of us.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Salisbury Cathedral – art from a distance

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I tend to prefer trees to buildings, but there is something so compelling about Salisbury Cathedral.

We were there on a sometimes-sunny Sunday, and walked along a footpath beside the Harnham Water Meadows towards the cathedral. At each sight of it between the trees I stopped. The green seemed to raise the spire higher, and the spire to emphasise the green spread out at its feet. It all looked so beautiful and balanced, truly belonging where it stood, and as though not much had changed since it was completed in 1238.

Two things I’ve discovered since that visit are, first, that Salisbury Cathedral was never part of a monastery, and second, that other medieval cathedrals attempted spires similar to Salisbury’s but many collapsed.

If you would like to find out a bit more about Salisbury Cathedral this video will give you a tour. It includes close-ups of some of the over four decades of restoration work that have been completed recently.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Postcard from the Guggenheim, Bilbao

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We flew into Bilbao with no real idea of what to expect. All we knew was that we had a hire car to collect on the edge of the city. The weather was fine, and our hotel room not available until the afternoon, so we decided to visit the Guggenheim.

Our first sight of the art museum was from the bridge as we entered the city. The museum’s titanium bulk rose up beside us but we had no view of the whole. That we saw for the first time after parking the car, and even then we could see only what our approach would allow, much of our view taken up by a giant, plant covered puppy, designed by Jeff Koons.

The sun was bright. The day was hot. We were tired. Rather than go into the museum to stare in a daze at works of art, we decided to walk around the outside, recrossing the bridge to get a view of the building from the far side of the Nervion River.

It was like unwrapping a parcel, one layer at a time. With every step the museum seemed to unfurl another sinew, its shape changing from crumpled paper, to majestic ship depending on the shadows and our bearings.

Our route, back over the river by another bridge, wound us around to the main entrance where we could not resist touching the scales of the giant. As we gently stroked one flank, a young man ran over to do the same, his excitement so great that sparks seemed to fly from his fingers as he touched it. He was a student of architecture, over from Peru, and beaming at just being there.

Here is a link to an article that tells you more about the museum, which turned 25 a few weeks after our visit.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023