I did a session at Hay Festival yesterday afternoon, only sadly it could not be at Hay – they presumably decided it would be too difficult to organise social distancing and it would have been pointless for the speakers to trek up to Hay to sit in an empty room. So, it was a slightly odd experience talking to people on a version of Zoom. After it, I was asked to write a blog about the experience and reproduce it here (HOW WILL CULTURAL CENTRES EVOLVE POST-PANDEMIC? (hayfestival.com):-

HOW WILL CULTURAL CENTRES EVOLVE POST-PANDEMIC?

I last did Hay Festival in May 2018 – pre-COVID, of course, in a tent that was in competition with a multitude of other simultaneous events. To get to it, I struggled through a massive bookshop from a Green Room where I was surrounded by lots of other speakers. It was all very physical. So it was a strange experience assembling on screen with three other people in the virtual world, Erica Wagner chairing it from New York with the faint sound of sirens echoing in the distance, and the whole experience was made odder by the fact that the technology being used meant that there was a very slight delay between one’s facial movements and then seeing oneself on screen. It felt like looking at people moving about in slow motion in a swimming pool.  

As a result of recognising the effect of this delayed slow motion, we were frozen beforehand, not wanting to speak on top of one another, not wishing to interrupt. It meant the event itself was a good deal more formal than it would have been all together on stage in Hay.  

We started with our different experiences of COVID. Xerxes Mazda, Head of Collections and Curation at the British Library, took up his new job only last month – what an odd experience it had been when it was impossible to meet colleagues or see the library in action. Louise Siddons, associate professor of art history at Oklahoma State University is on a Fulbright Fellowship at the Eccles Centre for American Studies at the British Library, and was unable to go to the reading rooms until last month. I, too, have been in lockdown at home, making the arrangements for the publication of my book on art museums, but unable to speak to anyone about it, unable to visit museums and galleries, adapting to so much of life being in the virtual world.  

The question we all confronted in our different ways was, ‘What will be different post-COVID?’. Much more will be done remotely by the British Library. There will be much more emphasis on the different ways that people use the library collections. The Oklahoma University Museum will also be reaching out to new audiences. The use of digital technology allows for new things to be done in interesting ways. My own feeling – but this may only be a reflection of my own experience – is that there will be a greater focus on permanent collections, less on the razzamatazz of grand new buildings and temporary exhibitions;  people will go more to their local museums, instead of treating them as for tourists; and that this new thoughtfulness and slow visiting will be good for museums.

The attached is a slightly oddball, but very fascinating glimpse into the way that the Bell Foundry is now sufficiently well known as a cultural and political issue to be the subject of a comedy routine on the accompanying podcast – ‘No Such Thing as a Fish’.

After a long discussion (at least twenty minutes) of all-in wrestling, there is an unexpectedly well-informed discussion of how it is possible to recognise the origin of bells by their sound, the importance of bells in late medieval village communities and – which I did not know – how the Germans were able to tell the weather conditions in London by listening to the live sound of Big Ben on broadcasts during the war. The last, in particular, helps to explain the cultural significance of the Bell Foundry as the place where Big Ben was cast.

If a bunch of comedians understands its significance, let’s hope the House of Commons does as well.

https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9hdWRpb2Jvb20uY29tL2NoYW5uZWxzLzIzOTkyMTYucnNz/episode/dGFnOmF1ZGlvYm9vbS5jb20sMjAyMS0wNS0yNzovcG9zdHMvNzg3NTUyNg?ep=14

Having now visited the exhibition about ‘Save Brick Lane’ at 25, Princelet Street, I have a better sense of the campaign to stop the big new building on the south side of the Truman, Hanbury and Buxton site, which as a whole occupies a big chunk of land on both sides of Brick Lane half way up. The whole 12-acre site was apparently sold by the Truman family in 1989 to Grand Metropolitan who had acquired the brewery in the era of corporate mergers. The site was subsequently acquired at a discount by a family of developers.

Up until now, what they have done has been in character with the area, bringing in big corporate tenants into the big buildings on either side of the street, including date processing and the headquarters of Anthropologie, but, at the same time, developing the Old Dray Walk with cafés and alternative shops, keeping the spirit of the area, which is now packed with people on a Sunday morning. But they are now planning to build a shopping mall on the corner of the site. It looks pretty bland in design, characterless and certain to be occupied by big chains. Rents will rise and the character of the area will be anaesthetised. There seems to be no overarching plan for the site as a whole and how best to maintain and develop its character. Tower Hamlets are – surprise, surprise – doing nothing to conserve the area.

This is Princelet Street:-

This is a conceptual model of the brewery site (the vacant site is on Woodseer Street):-

The brewery in action:-

The message:-

Miracles sometimes happen.

I went to visit the exhibition ‘Save Brick Lane’ at 25, Princelet Street this morning. As I left, I heard a slight clunk and thought that I had ridden over a crushed Pepsi Cola tin. It must have been the sound of my mobile phone falling out of my pocket. By the time I had realised about ten minutes later, the mobile phone was, hardly surprisingly, nowhere to be seen. I looked under all the cars and quickly realised how totally dependent one now is on one’s mobile phone: a couple of years of photographs; contact details; my mind, camera and memory. It was a catastrophe. By the time I got home, I was in a cold sweat. I rang the number a couple of times in wild desperation in the vain hope that it might be answered. And then, miraculously, it was. The phone had been picked up from the street and was available for collection. This post is a way of thanking the person who retrieved it. I can’t convey how much it was appreciated.

I am very grateful to the Gentle Author for writing an update on what is happening on his blog Spitalfields Life (see below).

As he rightly says, there are glimmers of hope that a solution might be found through cross-party action in the House of Commons. It seems that there are parliamentarians across the spectrum who recognise the great importance of the Bell Foundry, not least as the place where Big Ben was cast. I have always assumed that Robert Jenrick wanted it saved. Otherwise, there would have been no point calling the decision in. Also, it was decidedly unorthodox for him to condemn a decision which had been made in his name.

So, what can be done ? I hope the question of a CPO (Compulsory Purchase Order) is being properly investigated. I hope that the Review Jenrick has ordered is investigating the system already in place for the acquisition of major works of art. I think the best bet may lie in the decision being forensically examined by the Digital, Culture, Media and Sport Committee, chaired by Julian Knight MP, including particularly the role of Historic England in supporting it, and/or the equivalent Select Committee for Housing, Communities and Local Government, chaired by Clive Betts. And are there not people in the House of Lords who can get involved ?

https://spitalfieldslife.com/2021/05/30/hope-for-the-whitechapel-bell-foundry-x/?s=09

I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to post photographs of the new Museum of the Home which I was asked to see a week or so ago ahead of its official opening in mid-June. I was very impressed. It’s not at all an easy task to renovate the small rooms of an early eighteenth-century almshouse which were first laid out as a historical sequence of period rooms by Marjorie Quennell in the mid-1930s. Wright and Wright have dug down to produce a parallel set of rooms underneath which are much more thematic. The 1990s Branson Coates extension survives intact as the grand and very slightly flamboyant entrance hall from Hoxton Overground station. And so does the former pub building at the corner of Geffrye and Cremer Street, now a café called Molly’s after Molly Harrison who was the director of the Geffrye Museum as was in the 1950s. It struck me as a very intelligent and thoughtful set of interventions and I’m much looking forward to going back again in June and exploring further.

This is the new entrance ramp so that you now enter from the east:-

This is a view of the arts-and-crafts extension which was added at the back of the almshouses – I assume after the almshouses were acquired in 1911 by the LCC, opened as a Museum of the Furniture Trade in 1914:-

The gardens have been totally transformed and much improved as a place of public respite:-

And this is Molly’s which is already open for service of octopus and much else:-

I have been meaning to repost an article which appeared online in Philanthropy Daily, which focuses on a section of my book which I called ‘The Morality of Wealth’. I tried to consider the issue as to what one should think of those people who have lived possibly immoral lives, but have then devoted their great wealth to good causes. I have always taken the Mandevillean view of a relationship between private vice and public virtue, but acknowledge that in a new climate of public morality (although this does not apparently extend to the views of the electorate towards the behaviour of our most prominent politicians), this is increasingly unfashionable, if not indefensible. Anyway, I am pleased to discover my book is being read and pondered, even if criticised, in American philanthropic circles, in spite of my not being the type to enjoy a Funyun or two.

https://www.philanthropydaily.com/money-morality-and-musea/

I have been meaning to revisit the Pitt Rivers Museum, ever since issues of historic collections, the legacy of colonialism and questions of restitution became so much more widely discussed.

I freely confess that I feel a sense of unease, confronted by such rich collections, assembled according to principles of scientific curiosity and taxonomy, now retained apparently as much for the wrongs they demonstrate as for what one might learn of the societies from which they were acquired:-

The interpretation starts with a carving of a colonial officer, B.J.A. Matthews, done by a Yoruba artist in the 1930s:-

It is slightly hard to work out the system of labelling as between the modern labels – typed – and the hand-written ones which have been retained to give a feel for the history of the collection:-

Lord Tollemache’s moosehair suit is in unexpectedly good condition:-

Having survived so long intact and being such an astonishing manifestation of the late Victorian collecting world, one can only hope that it will now survive relatively unmodernised, whatever the attitudes it may exhibit, indeed precisely because of it being such a complete documentary and visual record of the colonial mindset.

Talk of the devil !

No sooner had I posted my question this morning as to whether or not there was going to be a proper and systematic review of the Whitechapel Bell Foundry decision than I received the following:-

The housing secretary has commissioned a review into how the Planning Inspectorate (PINS) and planning policy “considers and defends heritage” in the wake of a controversial government decision last week that granted consent for the redevelopment of a Grade II-listed historic former foundry in London into a mixed-use hotel scheme.

As will be clear from my previous blogs on the subject, for me the key issues are:-

1. It is apparently very hard for the heritage sector to react at speed. The Whitechapel Bell Foundry has been a slow-moving fiasco which could have been sorted out by more radical intervention at an earlier stage, including at the very least a requirement that the sale of the Bell Foundry should have been publicly advertised instead of being agreed in secret.
2. Once a decision had been taken to support redevelopment at a meeting of the London Advisory Committee in February 2017, it felt that no amount of further discussion or views expressed was ever allowed to alter or open up this decision to question and, as a result, the debate became very adversarial in a way which was probably unhelpful to everyone.
3. Heritage advice is now split between Historic England and the Heritage Lottery Fund, both of which come under the Department for Culture, Media and Sport, whereas planning is handled by the Planning Inspectorate which no doubt views planning as a more technical specialism, guided by the law, but not necessarily by a knowledge and awareness of history.
4. There is too much emphasis on the building itself, not on the effect on the building of change-of-use, let alone on the protection and preservation of historically important use.

All I can say is that I am glad that these issues are now being properly and appropriately addressed, with a hope – perhaps a vain hope – that, if possible, any recommendations should be allowed to work retrospectively.

As we approach the endgame on the fate of the Whitechapel Bell Foundry and await the answer to the question of whether or not Robert Jenrick will, as he has said he will, organise a review of the planning system which has authorised the redevelopment of the Whitechapel Bell Foundry in his name, but without apparently his approval, I am publishing a letter which was sent recently to Historic England, of which I was sent a copy.

It seems to me to state the case for some action and investigation being taken very cogently:-

Whitechapel Bell Foundry is indeed a very special historic place, but its exceptional nature lies not in the buildings, important as they are, but in the fact that until very recently the buildings contained and sustained a still living ancient and historic working tradition. As I am sure the individuals at Historic England must understand, were they honestly to look beyond the official line, a small, tourist attraction foundry making souvenir hand bells annexed to a coffee shop is no substitute for what the Bell Foundry has been over the last several centuries. I am aware that the Hughes family decided the business was no longer viable, but they declined to put the business to the open market to test their hypothesis. As you will know, qualified others strongly disagree as to the sustainability of the business, its adaptability to the present century.

The opinion as to whether the modern building at the rear of the site is of architectural or historic interest is of course open to debate – but again, if I may, Historic England seem to have missed the point. In this case it is not only the material culture – the bricks and mortar – that require protection but what those buildings contain: a unique and living historical tradition.

You write that ‘overall we believe that the proposals have the makings of a successful heritage regeneration scheme’ and I must say, my heart sinks. One reply would be that, had the path of sustainability been chosen and supported, regeneration would have been unnecessary – the business and the site would have continued, embracing modernisation in a way perhaps beyond the scope of the previous owners’ experience or enterprise or, indeed, imagination. A second reply would be to wonder despairingly what Historic England’s criteria for a successful heritage scheme are? Please forgive me for quoting sixties’ songwriters to you, but the words of Joni Mitchell come insistently to mind – “they take all the trees, and put them in a tree museum, then they charge all the people a dollar and half just to see them.” Is our heritage – of which Historic England are purportedly the protectors – to consist of anodyne, buffed up, roped off sites, or might it be a living and thriving and adaptive present that embraces a continuing history while looking to the future?

As I understand it the Secretary of State did not – quite – approve the scheme. Rather the necessary piece of paper was signed on his behalf by a civil servant in Bristol, and shortly afterwards the Secretary of State expressed regret at the decision via Twitter – thus adding a note of farce to this long and unhappy tale.

I would absolutely hope, as you write, that Historic England’s advice has been impartial. However, having been employed by the developer to give advice at the point of the proceedings when nothing was public – thus no opportunity allowed at that crucial moment for alternative visions for the Foundry’s future to be imagined or presented (and Historic England coming up with no such ideas itself) – I wonder if Historic England might have since felt obliged to hold to the support it gave to the developer. I do wonder, had the alternative schemes for the Foundry that have since emerged been presented to Historic England with equal weighting to the boutique hotel plans, which would have been supported? Which scheme better follows Historic England’s banner headline, “Championing England’s Heritage”?