Previously Posted: Collcutt’s hidden folly

For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

Collcutt’s hidden folly (16.07.13)

City of London planners have decreed that the view of St. Paul’s – or what is left of it – must be preserved from the rapid encroachment of high-rise buildings. One sacrosanct sightline is looking down Fleet Street from the Old Cheshire Cheese towards the Cathedral.

When it was proposed to demolish the previous building at the junction of St. Mary’s Axe and Leadenhall Street its construction caused a few headaches. Due to the building’s unusual design in having its 14 floors suspended on steel ‘chords’ visible on the building’s exterior, it was demolished from the bottom up.

The architects calculated that its replacement would destroy the sightline of St. Paul’s world-famous dome. The design called for the new building to be four times higher and the designer rose to the challenge by producing the new famous ‘cheesegrater’ design ensuring that its distinctive shape would become unobtrusive from Fleet Street and would gain popularity for its famous shape.

The same planning regulations have not been applied over the years in the museum area of South Kensington where London’s tallest folly manages to keep a low profile.

Having completed ‘The Knowledge’ I thought that I knew all of London’s largest buildings – that was until I read David Long’s Spectacular Vernacular.

At nearly 300ft. Collcutt’s Tower is higher than the dome of St. Paul’s but the subsequent development surrounding the building has ensured the building’s total anonymity.

Designed by T. E. Collcutt, it was he I discovered who designed the Savoy and the Palace Theatre. When completed Collcutt’s Tower marked Queen Victoria’s 50 years on the throne.

The Renaissance-style tower originally had two siblings each with copper roofs, the towers rising up above the Imperial Institute founded after the grand-sounding Colonial Exhibition of 1886. On the anniversary of Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, the tower was christened The Queen’s Tower.

The Imperial Institute was completed in 1893 and although regarded as Collcutt’s masterpiece a proper function was never found for its use. Its cavernous great hall was used for examination and was notorious among students in the 1950s for its leading ‘temporary’ plywood ceiling and the loose-bowelled sparrows which inhabited it.

In the 1960s the Imperial Institute was demolished mid protests led by the poet laureate John Betjeman. Only the single tower was spared, but as the building originally had propped it up the tower’s foundations had to be considerably strengthened thus allowing it to stand proud on its own.

The only sign that this monument to colonialism exists is when 11 times a year on Royal anniversaries its bells are rung much to the surprise of local residents (who much wonder where the sound is coming from) and the sparrows.

This post has been shamefully pilfered by the Londoneer who rather magnanimously publish under a creative commons licence – Thanks, Pete.

What do you have to say for yourself?