"So ugly. It looks completely out of place."
"Doesn't fit in with the surrounding streetscape."
"Overbearing and totally out of keeping with its neighbours."
Comments like these are common in London. Almost every new development attracts them. Many people feel disgust at the idea of a tower block rising behind a Georgian terrace, or a glass box next to an old, brick warehouse. Buildings should harmonise. They should fit in.
Well, yes — up to a point. I want to make the case that there is also merit in contrast. A skyscraper next to an old church can be exhilarating (to some of us). A brightly coloured facade rising against a grey streetscape is a joy (to some of us... in smaller cohort).
A good case in point is the view from the Royal Observatory. This one really divides people. In the mid-ground, we see the timeless neo-classical composition of Christopher Wren's Old Naval College and Inigo Jones's Queen's House. Behind them rises the "Hong Kong on Thames" of Canary Wharf — almost all of it built in the past 25 years. If we post 'before and after' photos on social media, then many of the replies will be variations on "I prefer the old view". What's your reaction to this?
For the record, I prefer the new view, and by a long way. It find it stirring to see the historic and the modern in the same panorama. Neither, in this case, muscles out the other; there is room for both.
I'm no expert on aesthetics, but I think this 'thrill of contrast' is something different to beauty. The two sensations stir different bits of the cortex. I don't find the Square Mile's skyline 'beautiful' in any conventional sense, but I do find it fascinating, alluring, beguiling in its haphazard angles... something I want to turn my gaze towards; to inspect. It is a mess, but it is an interesting mess.
Conversely, I might find a stuccoed Belgravia terrace superficially beautiful, but I don't get excited by it. It is harmonisation to the point of lullaby; soothing, pleasant, but ultimately soporific. Needless to say, I don't spend too many long-weekends in Bath.
My enjoyment of contrast probably makes me more welcoming of skyscrapers and other 'statement' buildings than most people. It doesn't mean I'm always in favour.
There are many objective reasons we might oppose, for example, a new high-rise. It might block light to existing buildings, cause 'wind tunnel' effects at ground level, have questionable environmental credentials, put undue pressure on local services, and generally help to sustain the culture of corporate greed in which the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. I get all that. All I'm saying is that "it looks totally out of place" is not an objective or universal criticism. Some of us like a misfit.
We should also remember that time heals all wounds, including sore thumbs. The BT Tower (former Post Office Tower), for example, was lambasted 60 years ago for dwarfing the hell out of Fitzrovia. It still does, but the tower has now become a mostly-cherished part of the furniture.
Likewise, the 'inside-out' Lloyd's Building was reviled by many when built in the mid-80s. Now it is widely feted, and has earned Grade-I-listed status — the same protection afforded to Tower Bridge. Even brutalist hate-magnets like Trellick Tower and the Barbican now have fans by the legion. All were 'out of place' in their day, but have since found a comfortable settlement within the hearts of Londoners. Sometime around 2040, there will be a vehement campaign against demolishing the Walkie-Talkie, because Eyesore + time = landmark.
Numerous large organisations weigh in upon the 'visual impact' of new developments. UNESCO, for example, has long considered withdrawing World Heritage Status from the Tower of London, because of an encroaching tide of skyscrapers. Historic England frequently opposes new developments on the grounds that the visual impact will be harmful to nearby listed buildings. And good on them. Such considerations should certainly be aired and taken into account. I'm quite happy that views of St Paul's dome are protected from certain angles. I've even argued for viewing corridors to protect the Gherkin on the skyline (though frankly it's too late). But we must remember that all of this is subjective. There is no SI unit of visual impact.
My ideal London is one of 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations', to use the old Star Trek maxim. It is a place where the older buildings still have a chance to stand out (as with the view from Greenwich), but where we don't put the halters on new developments just because some people think they're 'out of place'. I want to see a city where old and new sit side by side, and even shake hands.
London is a hybrid city in any measure or dimension. Some people celebrate its old stuff, some feel the thrill of the new. But the city is at its best when the two meet somewhere in the middle, in a state that is neither harmony nor cacophony, but glorious polyphony.
Sorry/not sorry if my views are ugly and totally out of keeping with my surroundings.
