Images from my morning walk two days ago. This is a
well-to-do area with some large houses, probably architect-designed. Then there
is this little grouping of semi-detached dwellings, looking a bit younger and
not quite so grand as their neighbours. All the same I think they are privately
owned and have a fairly high market value.
What intrigues me is the way that garages are provided separately, grouped
around a little cul-de-sac at one end of the development. This is quite common
in some of the higher density suburbs of Basingstoke built under the London
Overspill Plan. So what is going on?
Is this an architect /developer buying in to the philosophy of communal space
that was current in the sixties? Do people actually use these garages? Most of
their neighbours have private driveways and garages boast two, three or even
four cars. And their gardens have much higher levels of privacy.
Times change and styles come and go. Sometimes this happens in a smooth,
natural, organic way. Sometimes it's more of a top-down, ideologically driven
thing. For most of my life I have felt that the architectural profession is out
of touch with ordinary people and gripped by a narrow ideology.
It's not that I dislike this little group of houses. But there is something
false about the forced communality of the garages and the unused open space at
the opposite end. Do people use this? Why are there no bench seats, picnic
tables, play equipment?
Just walking around, looking and thinking.
I had to take at least one trip out on the bus to a
neighbouring town or village and visit one of the churches in my Hampshire
study. The simplest one turned out to be Hook. Two churches, a bit of a
walkabout, fish & chips wrapped in paper while seated in nice old bus
shelter with a tiled roof, and back to base.
The Catholic Church was OK. Concrete portal-frame shed, with brick-arched
facade. If we go by Pevsner's dictum (or is it a spectrum?) about bicycle sheds
and Cathedrals, it just about sneaks over the bar into the architecture
category. I'm sure it serves its purpose admirably.
St. John the Evangelist is another matter. Both the 1937 original and the
recent extension have considerable architectural interest. The whole ambience
is quite delightful. And I was fortunate to bump into a former church warden
who pointed out a number of shortcomings and blunders, most of them structural.
Tie beams have been added that block the view of the rose window. Round columns
in the extension look great but impede circulation.
Edward Maufe was an interesting character, born Muff, he was related to Titus
Salt, the textile magnate who built Saltaire. At 17 he was sent down to London
for a five year apprenticeship and his parents followed soon after, living in
the Red House, originally built for William Morris.
His architecture reminds me of Giles Gilbert Scott, clearly influenced by
ancient traditions, by the arts and crafts movement and trying also to adapt to
the Modern Movement. Whatever the practical shortcomings of the church in Hook
it made a very positive impression on me. It fits into the context of a small
Hampshire town, respects a centuries old tradition, but acknowledges the onset
of a new industrial era.
The simple dogtooth detail down the corners of the internal window reveals is
delightful. So do you prefer dull and practical, or magical but flawed? I know
where I stand.
Last time I went to Basingstoke public library was when my first round of prostate issues really kicked in. That was winter time so it was somewhere to meet up in the warm. I wanted to go again and take another look at the local history section. Could be a regular haunt once I move back permanently.
I stumbled across a newspaper feature on Fairfields school which is five minutes walk away. I've been interested in board schools since forever. In the north they were often stone and Gothic Revival. Down south this red brick freestyle classical was the done thing.
I'm always amazed by how simple the plans look. The way these Victorian architects could develop the massing into a rich composition seems like sleight of hand. Flemish bond and panels of flint: very Hampshire.
I haven't been inside to see what adaptations have been made over the years, but it's impressive that this school building is still in use almost 150 years down the line. I wonder how many award-winning modern schools will achieve that?
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