Francis Wheatley’s Cries Of London
Only a few tickets remain for my lecture on the CRIES OF LONDON next Sunday 11th December at the Art Workers’ Guild as part of the BLOOMSBURY JAMBOREE
Two Bunches a Penny, Primroses, Two Bunches a Penny!
Francis Wheatley exhibited his series of oil paintings entitled the “Cries of London” at the Royal Academy between 1792 and 1795. Two year earlier, the forty-one year old painter had been elected to the Academy in preference to the King’s nominee and, as a consequence, he never secured any further commissions for portraits from the aristocracy. Losing his income entirely, what should have been the crowning glory of his career was its unravelling – Wheatley was declared insolvent in 1793 and struggled to make a living until his death in 1801, when the Royal Academy paid his funeral expenses.
Yet in the midst of this turmoil, Wheatley created these sublime images of street sellers that – although seen at the time as of little consequence beside his aristocratic portraits – are now the works upon which his reputation rests. Born in Covent Garden in 1747, Wheatley was ideally qualified to portray these hawkers because he grew up amongst them and their cries, echoing in the streets around the market. You will recognise the old stone pillars of the market buildings that still stand today in a couple of these pictures, all of which could be located specifically in that vicinity. However, these pictures are far from social reportage as we understand it, and you may notice a certain similarity between many of the women portrayed in these pictures, for whom it is believed Mrs Wheatley – herself a painter and exhibitor at the Royal Academy – was the model. Look again, and you will also see that variants on the same ginger and white terrier occur throughout these paintings too.
In spite of the idealised quality of these pictures, I am drawn to these “Cries of London,” as a project that places working people at the centre of the picture, and represents them as individuals of stature and presence. The body language of subservience is only present when customers are in the frame, as you will see in the Knife Grinder and Cherry Seller below, whilst the lone Strawberry Seller, Match Seller and Primrose Seller all gaze out at us with assured status, as our equals. Taking this a stage further, the final three pictures, the Ballad Seller, the Gingerbread Seller and the Turnip Seller portray sellers and customers meeting eye to eye – dealing on a level – and with a discernible erotic charge in the air.
Although coming too late to save his career, Wheatley was well served by his engravers who created the prints which brought recognition for his “Cries of London,” as the most beautiful and most popular series of prints on this subject of all time, with editions still available into the early twentieth century. In fact, when I examined this set in the archive of the Bishopsgate Institute, I realised that many were familiar to me from chocolate boxes and biscuit tins, and once glimpsed in frames in the houses of elderly relatives and the seaside hotels of my childhood.
Luigi Schiavonetti, born in Bassano in 1765, engraved the first three plates, the Primrose Seller, the Milk Maids and the Orange Seller, with lush velvety stippled tones – a style that was maintained by the three subsequent engravers (Cardon, Vendramini and Gaugain), when Schiavonetti became too successful and expensive for such a modest project. The “Cries of London” were sold at seven shillings and sixpence for a plain set and sixteen shillings coloured, and the fact all thirteen were issued is itself a measure of their popularity.
It touches me to understand that Francis Wheatley chose to paint these “Cries of London” at the time he was losing grip of his life, struggling under the pressure of increasing debt, because they cannot have been an obvious commercial proposition. And I like to surmise that these graceful images celebrate the qualities of the ordinary working people, which Wheatley experienced first-hand, growing up in Covent Garden, and chose to witness in this subtly political set of pictures, existing in noble contrast to the portraits of aristocratic patrons who had shunned him when he was in need.
Milk Below! – This is believed to be the origin of the more recent milkman’s cry, “Milko!”
Sweet China Oranges, Sweet China.
Do you want any matches?
New Mackerel, New Mackerel
Knives, Scissors & Razors to Grind.
Fresh Gathered Peas, Young Hastings.
Round & Sound, Five Pence a Pound, Duke Cherries.
Strawberrys, Scarlet Strawberrys.
Old Chairs to Mend.
A New Love Song, only Ha’pence a Piece.
Hot Spiced Gingerbread, Smoking Hot.
Turnips & Carrots, ho!
Francis Wheatley R.A. looks askance.
Images courtesy Bishopsgate Institute
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Bloomsbury Jamboree 2022
In gleeful collaboration with Tim Mainstone of Mainstone Press and Joe Pearson of Design for Today, I am hosting our annual Christmas BLOOMSBURY JAMBOREE, a one-day festival of books and print, illustration, talks and seasonal merriment next SUNDAY 11th DECEMBER from 10:30am until 4:30pm.
It takes place at the magnificent ART WORKERS GUILD, 6 Queens Sq, WC1, which was founded in 1884 by members of the Arts & Crafts movement including William Morris and C R Ashbee. These oak panelled rooms lined with oil paintings in a beautiful old house in Bloomsbury offer the ideal venue to celebrate our books, and the authors and artists who create them.
There will be book-signings and a programme of ticketed lectures and readings plus we have invited twenty friends to exhibit, including print and paper makers, small press publishers, toy makers, potters, craft workers and importers for food by small producers.
We need volunteers on Saturday at 6:30pm and all day Sunday and offer bags of books as rewards – if you can help us, please email spitalfieldslife@gmail.com
CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS OF OUR LECTURES
Art Workers Guild
Art Workers Guild
Art Workers Guild
Print by Rob Ryan
Mug by Rob Ryan
Wooden decorations by Elizabeth Harbour
Owl Watching, print by Mark Hearld printed by Penfold Press
Suzanne Cooper, Paintings Under The Spare Room Bed, published by Mainstone Press
Print by Clare Curtis
Wooden houses made from boxes from Whitechapel Market by Robson Cezar
Plate by Dayna Stevens
Print by Paul Cleden
Print by Chris Brown
Tea towels by Chris Brown
Print by Clare Curtis
Print by Marion Elliott
Felt figures by Marion Elliott
Silver jewellery by Anna Lovell
Paper sculpture by Sato Hisao
Paper sculpture by Sato Hisao
Print by Sarah Young
Map by Herb Lester
Card by Mandy Doubt
Broadway Market Card Game by Design for Today
Pia Matikka will write your name in copperplate (photo by Lucinda Douglas Menzies)
Print by Suzanne Cooper published by Mainstone Press
Wooden house made by Robson Cezar out of fruit boxes from Whitechapel Market
Toy Theatre by Clive Hicks-Jenkins published by Design for Today
Sail Cargo London will be offering imports from small producers by sailing boat.
In Anticipation Of The Festive Season
A swallow at Christmas
George Cruikshank‘s illustrations of yuletide in London 1838-53 from his Comic Almanack remind us how much has changed and also how little has changed. (You can click on any of these images to enlarge)
Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve
Christmas dining
Christmas bustle
Boxing day
Hard frost
A picture in the gallery
Theatrical dinner
The Parlour & the Cellar
New Year’s Eve
New Year’s birth
Twelfth Night – Drawing characters
January – Last year’s bills
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George Cruikshank’s Comic Alphabet
Piotr Frac, Stained Glass Artist
Last chance to book for my one-day-only EAST END TRADES GUILD TOUR OF SPITALFIELDS this Saturday 3rd December at noon, telling the stories of the different local shops and their origins in this traditional heartland for small traders.
An EETG cloth bag, a copy of Rob Ryan’s map, and small gifts from guild members are included in the ticket, along with refreshments served by a member of the guild at the end of the tour.
CLICK HERE TO BOOK YOUR TICKET
Happy in the crypt beneath John Soane’s St John on Bethnal Green of 1828, Piotr Frac works peacefully making beautiful stained glass while the world passes by at this busiest of East End crossroads. Contributing Photographer Sarah Ainslie & I visited Piotr in his subterranean workshop and were delighted to observe his dexterity in action and admire some of his recent creations.
Piotr’s appealingly modest demeanour and soft spoken manner belie the moral courage and determination it has cost him to succeed in this rare occupation. This is to say nothing of his extraordinary skill in the cutting of glass and the melding of lead to fashion such accomplished work, or his creative talent in contriving designs that draw upon the age-old traditions of stained glass but are unmistakably of our own time.
Gripped by a passion for the magic of stained glass at an early age, Piotr always knew this what what he had to do. Yet even to begin to make his way in his chosen profession, Piotr had to leave his home country and find a whole new life, speaking another language in another country.
It is our gain that Piotr brought his talent and capacity for work to London. That he found his spiritual home in the East End is no accident, since he follows in the footsteps of centuries of skilled migrants, starting with the Huguenots in the sixteenth century, who have immeasurably enriched our culture with their creative energies.
“I am from a working class family in Byton, Silesia, in the south of Poland. My interest in stained glass began when I was ten or eleven years old and I went with my school to see Krakow Cathedral. The stained glass was something beautiful and that was the first time in my life I saw it. I was inspired by the colours and the light, it still excites me.
I always had an interest in drawing and painting – so, after high school, I went to a school of sculpture where they taught stained glass restoration. This was more than twenty years ago, but it was the start of my journey with stained glass. After I got my diploma in the restoration of stained glass, I worked on a project at a church for a few weeks before university. I studied art education in Silesia and I learnt painting, sculpture and calligraphy. I believe every artist needs a background in drawing and painting.
My ambition was to do stained glass, but there were hardly any jobs of any kind – I sold fish in the market in winter and I worked in a hospital, I took whatever I could get. Around 2005, I decided to leave the country. I had some Polish friends who had come to London and they helped me find a place to stay in Brixton. In the beginning, it was very difficult for me because of the language barrier. Without English, it was hard for me to communicate and find a job here. I worked on building sites. Every morning I got up at five and I walked around with this piece of paper which told me how to ask for a job. Someone wrote down a phonetic version of the words for me and I asked at building sites. After two weeks, I got a labouring job.
I lived in many places south of the river but seven years ago I moved to East London and I have stayed here ever since. At first I lived in the Hackney Rd near Victoria Park and I am still in that area, close the Roman Rd. I visited stained glass workshops but I could not get a job because I could not communicate. I did not want to work as a labourer forever so I decided to go to language school to learn English and this helped me a lot. At the English school here in the crypt of St John’s Bethnal Green, my teacher asked us to prepare a talk about myself and my interests. So I talked about my profession as a stained glass artist and my teacher introduced me to a stone carver in the crypt workshop. He told me, ‘If you are willing to teach stained glass classes, you are welcome to use the workshop.’ I started eight years ago with one student.
My first commission was to repair a Victorian glass door. Most of my work has been Victorian and Edwardian windows and doors, which has allowed me to survive because there are plenty that need repair or replacement. There are not a lot of creative commissions on offer but sometimes people want something different.
Two years ago, I won a competition to design a window for St John’s Hackney. It took a year for them to approve the design and I am in the middle of working on it now. I need to finish and install it. Also the Museum of London bought a piece of mine. It is gorilla from a triptych of gorillas and it will be displayed there next year.
Once I moved to East London, I felt I belonged to here – not only because I started my workshop but because I met my wife, Akiko, here. In 2016, I become a British citizen so now I am a permanent member of the community.
Stained glass is a wonderful medium to work with and always looks fantastic because it changes all the time with the light, in different times of the day and seasons of the year. I believe there is a great potential for stained glass in modern architecture.
These days I am able to make a living and I would like to become more recognised as a stained glass artist. I am seeking more ambitious commissions.”
Constructing a nineteenth century door panel
A panel from Piotr’s triptych of gorillas
Piotr’s first panel designed and made in London
Piotr with one of his stained glass classes in the crypt of St John’s Bethnal Green
Repairing a Victorian glass door
Restoring nineteenth century church glass
Before repair
After repair
Piotr Frac, Stained Glass Artist
Studio portraits © Sarah Ainslie
Contact Piotr Frac direct to commission stained glass
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The Curry Chefs Of Brick Lane
In celebration of Small Business Saturday, I am hosting the one-day-only EAST END TRADES GUILD TOUR OF SPITALFIELDS this Saturday 3rd December at noon, telling the stories of the different local shops and their origins in this traditional heartland for small traders.
An EETG cloth bag, a copy of Rob Ryan’s map, and small gifts from guild members are included in the ticket, along with refreshments served by a member of the guild at the end of the tour.
CLICK HERE TO BOOK YOUR TICKET
This is the ideal moment for a hot curry to warm the spirits, so I set out with photographer Jeremy Freedman to make the acquaintance of some of Brick Lane’s most celebrated Curry Chefs. We were privileged to be granted admission to the modest kitchens tucked away at the back or in the basement of the curry houses, where Head Chefs marshal whole teams of underchefs in a highly formalised hierarchy of responsibility.
It was a relief to step from the cold street into the heat of the kitchens, where we discovered our excited subjects glistening with perspiration, all engaged in the midst of the collective drama that results in curry. We found that these were men who – for the most part – had worked their way up over many years from humble kitchen porters to enjoy their heroic leading roles, granting them the right to a degree of swagger in front of the lense.
We encountered the charismatic Zulen Ahmed, pictured above, standing over his clay-lined tandoori oven beneath the Saffron restaurant where he has been Head Chef for ten years now. Trained by the renowned Curry Chef, Ashik Miah, Zulen served eight years as a porter before ascending to run his own kitchen, now supervising a team consisting of two chefs who do the spicing and make the sauces, a tandoori chef, two cooks who cook rice and poppadums, a second chef who prepares side dishes and a porter who does the washing up. “The Head Chef listens to everybody,” he explained deferentially, with his staff standing around within earshot, and thereby revealing himself to be a natural leader.
Across the road at Masala, we met Head Chef, Shaiz Uddin, whose mother is a chef in Bangladesh. She taught him to cook when he was ten years old. Shaiz told me he worked in her kitchen as Curry Chef for seven years, before he came to London ten years ago to bring the authentic style to Brick Lane, where today he is known for his constant invention in contriving new dishes for his eager customers.
It was quickly apparent that there is a daily routine common to all the curry kitchens of Brick Lane. At eleven each morning, the chefs come in and work until three to prepare the sauces and half cook the meat for the evening. At three they take a break until six, while the underchefs, who arrive at three, prepare the vegetables and salad. Then at six, when the chefs return, the rice is cooked and – now the kitchen is full – everyone works as a team until midnight, when it is time to throw out the leftovers and make the orders for the next day. This is the pattern that rules the lives of all involved. “I like to be busy,” Nurul Alam, Head Chef at Preem & Prithi, informed me blithely – he regularly cooks three hundred curries a night.
“When I started, I dreamed of being a chef,” confessed Jamal Uddin, Head Chef at Bengal Cuisine, referring to his ambition when he came here to Brick Lane from Bangladesh aged nineteen. For the last fourteen years, Jamal has reigned supreme in his kitchen with a Tandoori Chef, a Cook and a Porter working under his supervision as he prepares as many as two hundred curries every day. “I love cooking,” he admitted to me as his gleaming face broke into a smile, though whether it was the intensity of his emotion or the humidity in the kitchen that was the cause of his glowing complexion, I never ascertained.
Syed Jahan Mir, Head Chef at Chillies Restaurant, told me he came to this country at the age of eighteen with his mother and father. Syed was able to learn from his father who was also a chef and they started out together at first, working side by side in the same restaurant. “He’s better than me, but now he is retired to Sunderland I am the best!” Syed asserted, placing a hand on his chest protectively. “Of course I like it,” he confirmed for me with fierce pride, “Twenty-four years, I’ve been doing this, just making curry – it’s my profession.” A poet with spices, Syed creates his own personal mixture for curry. “It’s all the blending,” he emphasised, running his fingers through the golden powder in a steel dish to demonstrate its special properties.
Mohammed Salik still remembers arriving in Britain at the age of seven. “It was quaint and nice here and the people so good, not overcrowded and dirty like my country,” he recalled with a sublime smile of reminiscence, “My dad used to work at the Savoy, but I wanted to be part of the community here in Brick Lane.” Starting as kitchen porter, Mohammed spent the first five years watching and learning and is now Head Chef at Eastern Eye Restaurant. Our brief conversation in the kitchen was eclipsed by the arrival of a bucket on a piece of string from the restaurant above and inside was a yellow slip of paper, occasioning a polite, apologetic glance from Syed as he turned away to study the handwriting and order his team to work, making up the order.
At Cinnamon, Head Chef and veteran of twenty-five years in the business, Daras Miya was keen to introduce me to the two smiley, hardworking young Kitchen Porters under his care, skinny twenty-four year old Belal Ahmed who has been there three months and also works as a waiter, and nineteen year old Mizanor Rahman who started a week ago. Newly married and with little English, wide-eyed Mizanor was experiencing his first winter in London, after marrying his wife who came from Britain to Bangladesh find a husband.
Finally, at the Aladin we met Brick Lane’s most senior Curry Chef, the distinguished Rana Miah who started work in 1980 as a kitchen porter when he arrived from Bangladesh, graduating to chef in 1988. “At that time we served only Bengalis, but by 1995 the customers were all Europeans,” he recalled, describing his tenure as chef at one of Brick Lane’s oldest curry houses, which opened in 1985 and is second only to the Clifton in age. Rana explained that he runs his kitchen upon the system of “Handy Cooking,” based around the use of large stock pots to cook the food. “That’s the way it’s done in Bangladesh,” he confirmed, “This is a traditional restaurant.” As the longest serving Curry Chef, Rana gets frequent consultations from the other chefs on Brick Lane and, remains passionate about his vocation, arriving before everyone each day and leaving after everyone else too.
We never asked the Curry Chefs to cross their arms, but they all assumed this stance, independently and without prompting. It is a posture that proposes professionalism, dignity and self-respect, yet it also indicates a certain reticence, a reserved nature that prefers to let the culinary creations speak for themselves. So I ask you to spare a thought for these proud Curry Chefs, working away like those engineers slaving below deck on the great steam ships of old, they are the unseen and unsung heroes of Brick Lane’s Curry Mile.
Abdul Ahad Forhad, Curry Chef at Monsoon, 78 Brick Lane – “I’m the master of curry!”
Head Chef Shaiz Uddin with his colleague Monul Uddin, Tandoori Chef at Masala, 88 Brick Lane
Nurul Alam, Head Chef at Preem & Prithi, 124/6 Brick Lane, cooks three hundred curries a night
Abdul Tahid, Head Chef at Papadoms, 94 Brick Lane
Jamal Uddin, Head Chef at Bengal Cuisine, 12 Brick Lane
Syed Jahan Mir, Head Chef at Chillies Restaurant, 76 Brick Lane
Mohammed Salik, Head Chef at Eastern Eye Balti House, 63a Brick Lane
Daras Miya, Head Chef at Cinnamon, 134 Brick Lane
Belal Ahmed & Mizanur Rahman, porters at Cinnamon 134, Brick Lane
Rana Miah, Brick Lane’s longest serving Curry Chef stands centre, flanked by Kholilur Rahman and Mizanur Khan in the kitchen of the Aladin, 132 Brick Lane
Photographs copyright © Jeremy Freedman
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The Drawing Rooms Of Old London
In celebration of Small Business Saturday, I am hosting the new EAST END TRADES GUILD TOUR OF SPITALFIELDS this Saturday 3rd December at noon, telling the stories of the different local shops and their origins in this traditional heartland for small traders. An EETG cloth bag, a copy of Rob Ryan’s map, and small gifts from guild members are included in the ticket, along with refreshments served by a member of the guild at the end of the tour.
CLICK HERE TO BOOK YOUR TICKET
Impending gloom at the Mansion House, c. 1910
Given the increasing volatility of meteorological conditions as we head into another long winter in the northern hemisphere, I think the only prudent course of action is to withdraw into one of the drawing rooms of old London. Once the last meagre ray of November sunlight has filtered through the lace curtains, highlighting the dust upon the armoire, pull the brocade drapes close and bank up the fire with sea-coal. Stretch out upon the chaise langue, I shall take the sofa and my cat will settle in the fauteuil.
These glass slides once used for magic lantern shows by the London & Middlesex Archaeological Society at the Bishopsgate Institute reveal glimpses into the lavish drawing rooms occupied by those at the pinnacle of power in old London, and I can only wonder what the East Enders of a century ago thought when exposed to these strange visions of another world.
State Room Chelsea Royal Hospital, c. 1920
Drawing Room at Lindsay House, Chelsea, former home of the Moravians, 1912
Hall at Fulham Palace, c. 1920
White Drawing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Dining Room at Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Christians’ Sitting Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Writing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Throne Room at St James’ Palace, c.1910
Prince Consort’s Music Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Tapestry Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Empress Eugiene’s Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Bow Saloon, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Writing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Music Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Queen Victoria’s Dolls’ House, Kensington Palace, c. 1910
Holland House, c. 1910
Lord Mayor’s Room, Mansion House, c.1910
Drawing Room, Goldsmiths Hall, c. 1920
Drawing Room, Armourers’ Hall, c. 1920
Small Hall at Cordwainers’ Hall, 1920
Drawing Room, Goldsmiths’ Hall, 1920
Drawing Room, Salters’ Hall, c. 1910
Drawing Room, Mercers’ Hall, 1920
Drawing Room, Devonshire House, c. 1910
Ballroom at Devonshire House, c. 1910
Drawing Room, Whitehall Gardens, 1913
Prince Consort’s Dressing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Belgian Suite Bedroom, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Study, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Bow Saloon, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Throne Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Vestry of St Lawrence Jewry, c. 1920
Glass slides copyright © Bishopsgate Institute
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David Pearson’s Lecture
As part of this year’s Bloomsbury Jamboree at the Art Workers’ Guild on Sunday 11th December, David Pearson will be giving an illustrated talk about his exemplary book designs, entitled MONEY FOR OLD ROPE
“I’ll do this to the day I die if I’m allowed to!”
This man is so busy that the only way he can keep still is to sit on his hands. He is David Pearson, a designer who has been responsible for some of the most distinctive books produced in recent years, and it was my good fortune that he chose to apply his talents to designing my first book Spitalfields Life and many of the others I have published since. I needed someone who could find a way to let my stories be at home upon the printed page and David rose to the challenge superlatively.
There were innumerable trips over to his long narrow studio in Back Hill, Clerkenwell – the traditional home of printing in London – as David’s ideas evolved until we arrived at the complete volume in which one hundred and fifty stories, three hundred pictures and innumerable illustrations all fitted together to become one four hundred and fifty page book with its own unity of purpose. Once that the mighty task was done and we could draw breath, I took the opportunity to enquire more of David’s rare clarity of vision.
Starting as a junior text designer at Penguin as recently as 2002, David was given the job of selecting the titles for a history of the company’s cover designs. In two weeks, he went through the entire sixty year archive, taking each one off the shelf for two seconds and replacing it again. Not only did “Penguin By Design,” the book David compiled and designed, achieve unexpected popular success, reaching a readership far beyond aficionados of publishing history, but the research that he undertook granted him a unique and inspiring insight into the evolution of book design in this country.
“Everything I have done since has been based upon an application of that to my own work,” he admitted to me with blatant modesty and an easy relaxed smile, “Good design is about refinement and details – I’ve learnt it’s ok not to reinvent the wheel.”
On the basis of “Penguin By Design,” David was given the job to design the covers for Penguin Great Ideas, an experimental series of low-budget books with two-colour covers. “I’m not an illustrator and I can’t take photographs, so I decided to do all the covers with type,” explained David, almost apologetically. Yet David’s famous landmark designs for these books, derived from his knowledge of the history of Penguin covers, were a model of elegant simplicity that stood out in bookshops and sold over three million copies. “I saw people picking them up and they didn’t want to put them down!” he confided to me, rolling his eyes in delight, “They were a phenomenon.” Then he placed a hand affectionately upon a stack of copies of this series for which he has now designed one hundred covers.
“I was only ever good at one thing, I used to finish off other people’s drawings for them at school,” he revealed to me suddenly, looking up as he retreated from his previous thought, taking me back to the beginning by recalling his childhood in Cleethorpes and adding, “I decided not to be an artist because I always need a brief or I flounder, so instead I trained to be a designer.” David’s disarming self-effacement is entirely in contrast to what I had expected, knowing him only through his bold designs.
It was on the basis of David’s brilliant typographic covers for the Great Ideas series, that I leaped at the chance of having him take on Spitalfields Life – because I wanted a designer who could work with classic type in a modern way and create something with an attractive utilitarian quality, reflecting the contents and subject of the book. Before I met him, I braced myself to encounter a fierce typographer with an authoritarian manner but – to my surprise – there was David, chuckling like a schoolboy, and with his corkscrew curls and plain features resembling a saint that just stepped off the front of a Romanesque cathedral, and lounging comfortably with his lanky limbs outstretched.
For interest’s sake I sent David a copy of a page of Dickens “Household Words” from 1851, as the closest precedent I knew for a collection of short literary pieces. Dickens published these weekly and for tuppence his forty thousand readers in London received a pamphlet of half a dozen stories every Saturday morning – a publication that today would almost certainly be a blog. When David saw this, he decided to adopt the same two column structure for Spitalfields Life, recognising that this format brought a pace and a dynamism to the flow of the type, and the font he chose was Miller by Matthew Carter, a redesign of a Scotch Roman face of a century ago which possesses subtle details, and that he characterised as “resolute.” What most appeals to me about David’s designs is that they do not look “designed,” they look as if they arrived how they are naturally and the success of his work on Spitalfields Life means that I could not now imagine the book any other way.
Like me, David likes to work late into the night when the phone stops ringing and the emails cease. “It’s a way to be able to pay attention to everything to the Nth degree,” he confided to me, “I can’t work quickly.” In spite of his success, David works long hours and weekends. “I’ll do this to the day I die if I’m allowed to!” he declared to me candidly, almost in a whisper.
David Pearson’s beautifully proportioned title page for Spitalfields Life.
Charles Dickens’ Household Words provided the inspiration for David Pearson’s page design.
David Pearson’s page design for Spitalfields Life.
David designed this book and compiled the covers.
David’s redesign of the penguin for Penguin Books.
Illustration by Joe McLaren
Artwork by Phil Baines
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