Coming back to London, I am struck once again by the enormity, the monstrosity, of 22, Bishopsgate, which now completely dominates the London skyline, but in a way which is sinister rather than attractive, because it has been designed ruthlessly without character – anonymous, deadly, featureless, overwhelmingly anonymous, like a thug embracing one with a clasp from behind.
The view down the Mile End Road used to be dominated by the Gherkin – funny and a bit silly, like discarded lipstick. But now we have 22, Bishopsgate: namelessly hideous and so expressive of the capture of London by the forces of darkness, through developers lining the pocket of our ex-Mayor, now Prime Minister:-
2 thoughts on “22, Bishopsgate”
Well said Charles.
Totally agree with your comments. A disgrace