At KTS The Corner
Everyone in East London knows KTS The Corner, Tony O’Kane’s timber and DIY shop. With Tony’s ingenious wooden designs upon the fascia and the three-sided clock he designed over the door, this singular family business never fails catch the eye of anyone passing the corner of the Kingsland Rd and Englefield Rd in Dalston. In fact, KTS The Corner is such an established landmark that it is “a point of knowledge” for taxi drivers.
Yet, in spite of its fame, there is an enigma about KTS which can now be revealed for the first time. “People think it stands for Kingsland Timber Service,” said Tony with a glint in his eye, “Even my accountant thinks it does, but it doesn’t – it stands for three of my children, Katie, Toni and Sean.” And then he crossed his arms and tapped his foot upon the ground, chuckling to himself at this ingenious ruse. It was entirely characteristic of Tony’s irrepressible creative spirit which finds its expression in every aspect of this modest family concern, now among the last of the independent one-stop shops for small builders and people doing up their homes.
On the Kingsland Rd, Tony’s magnificent pavement display of brushes, mops and shovels, arrayed like soldiers on parade, guard the wonders that lie within. To enter, you walk underneath Tony’s unique three-sided clock – constructed to be seen from East, South and North – with his own illustrations of building materials replacing the numerals. Inside, there are two counters, one on either side, where Tony’s sons and daughters lean over to greet you, offering key cutting on your left and a phantasmagoric array of fixtures to your right. Step further, and the temporal theme becomes apparent, as I discovered when Tony took me on the tour. Each department has a different home made clock with items of stock replacing the numerals, whether nails and screws, electrical fittings, locks and keys, copper piping joints, or even paints upon a palette-shaped clock face. Whenever I expressed my approval, Tony grimaced shyly and gave a shrug, indicating that he was just amusing himself.
Rashly, Tony left his sons in charge while we retired to his cubicle office stacked with invoices and receipts where, over a cup of tea, he explained how he came to be there.
“I’m from from Hoxton, I went to St Monica’s School in Hoxton Sq. To get me to concentrate on anything they had to tie me down, but, if anything physical needed doing, like moving tables and chairs, I’d be there doing it. My dad did his own decorating and my mother wanted everything completely changed every year or eighteen months, so he taught me how to hang wallpaper and to do lots of little jobs. After Cardinal Pole’s Secondary School, I did an apprenticeship in carpentry and got a City & Guilds distinction. Starting at fifteen, I did four years apprenticeship at Yeomans & Partners. Back then, when you came out of your apprenticeship, they made you redundant. You got the notice in your pay packet on the Thursday but on Saturday you’d get a letter advertising that they needed carpenters at the same company. They wanted you to work for them but without benefits and you had to pay a weekly holiday stamp.
I went self-employed from that moment. At the age of nineteen, I started my own company. I covered all the trades because I learnt that the first person to arrive on a building site is a carpenter and the last person to leave the site upon completion is a carpenter. Nine out of ten foremen are ex-carpenters and joiners, since the carpenter gets involved with every single other trade. So, over the years, I picked up plumbing, heating, electrics. When I started my company, I wouldn’t employ anyone if I couldn’t do their job – so I knew how much to pay ’em and whether they was doing it right or wrong.
This was in 1973, and Hackney Council offered me a grant to do up a building in Broadway Market. I just wanted an office, a workshop and a warehouse but they said you have to open a shop. So, as I was a building company, I opened a builders’ merchants and then, twenty years ago, I bought this place. When I bought it, it was just the corner, there was no shopfront. I designed the shopfront and found the old doors. I used to come here with my dad when we were doing the decorating for my mum, because they made pelmets to order here but, as a child, I never thought I’d own this place.”
Tony is proud to assure you that he stocks more lines than those ubiquitous warehouse chains selling DIY materials, and he took me down into the vast cellar where entire aisles of neatly filed varieties of hammers and hundreds of near-identical light fixtures illustrated the innumerable byways of unlikely creativity. At the rear of the shop, through a narrow door, I discovered the carpentry workshop where resident carpenter Mike presides upon some handsome old mechanical saws in a lean-to shed stacked with timber. He will cut wood to any shape or dimension you require upon the old workbench here.
Tony’s witty designs upon the Englewood Rd side of the building are the most visible display of his creative abilities, in pictograms conveying Plumbing & Electrical, Joinery, Keys Cut, Gardening and Timber Cut-to-Size. When Tony took these down to overhaul them once, it caused a stir in the national press. Thousands required reassurance that Tony’s designs would be reinstated exactly as before. It was an unexpected recognition of Tony’s talent and a powerful reminder of the secret romance we all harbour for traditional hardware shops.
Tony with his sons Jack and Sean.
A magnificent pavement display of brushes, mops and shovels.
The temporary removal of Tony’s wooden pictograms triggered a public outcry in the national press.
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At The Hippodrome
Contributing Photographer Sarah Ainslie & I enjoyed an exciting day out recently at the magnificent Hippodrome in Cranbourn St on the corner of Leicester Sq and Charing Cross Rd – the veritable corner stone of the West End – which this year celebrates its 125th anniversary.
We were privileged to join Simon Thomas, the casino supremo, as he commenced his daily ritual of ‘walking the floor,’ greeting his staff of more than 950 – each of whom he knows by name – checking that his house was all in order and no lightbulbs needed replacing. Yet even before we arrived we were in awe of the history of this distinguished venue that has survived and upheld its reputation in the entertainment world for over a century through constant adaptation and reinvention.
This enormous Frank Matcham-designed theatre opened in 1900 as a circus of variety where the auditorium could be flooded to enable extravagant aquatic spectacles such as fifteen elephants swimming, acrobatic diving displays, a battle with a giant octopus, and large scale recreations of earthquakes and typhoons. Luminaries including Charlie Chaplin and Harry Houdini performed here in the early days before Ragtime and revue superseded circus and, somewhere in the midst of this, Swan Lake received its London premiere.
In the decades after the Great War, the craze for musical comedies held sway with stars including Jack Buchanan, Julie Andrews and Audrey Hepburn, interspersed with traditional annual pantomimes featuring Music Hall legends such as Lupino Lane, George Robey and Fay Compton. Glamour and variety better reflected the public mood after the Second World War with the emergence of stars like Shirley Bassey, Max Bygraves, Judy Garland and Tom Jones, and the Hippodrome adapted to become a dinner theatre, rebranded as the Talk of the Town in 1958.
When the liveried doorman ushered us past the velvet rope and we followed the red carpet into the theatre, we wondered what to expect. Frank’s Matcham’s auditorium was demolished in the fifties but it has been spectacularly reconstructed with new plasterwork from the original designs as part of the £40 million restoration in 2009. A casino floor now occupies the stalls where elephants once swam, and the stage where Judy Garland sang is now a studio theatre seating around 300 people where Magic Mike is performed twice nightly.
The Hippodrome is an enormous labyrinth of ceaseless life with a multiplicity of bars, restaurants and places to gamble, open to visit for free twenty-four hours of the day. Simon Thomas led us on an elaborate journey through the maze using his personal swipe card to employ private lifts and secret doors to travel discreetly from one part to another. We entered a speakeasy hidden behind a barbers’ shop and a cocktail bar behind an embossed, touch-sensitive door that only opens if you know where to push and the precise sequence to do it. When we walked through a wall into a Chinese restaurant where an AI-powered robot was clearing the tables, it came as no surprise.
Then it was into another lift, sweeping us up to visit the open-air bar and restaurant on the roof for a sunset view of Frank Matcham’s Roman charioteer that he placed on the top as a symbol of his epic creation, an architectural leitmotif that has its equivalents in the globe on the London Coliseum and the dancer on the Victoria Palace.
When Simon revealed proudly that guests came from far and wide to spend the entire weekend inside the Hippodrome, I realised he embodied the tradition of bold West End showmen whose enthusiasm and imagination have kept these Victorian palaces of popular entertainment open. After gambling so many millions, it is now his passion to keep it alive and I do not imagine he gets too much sleep. ‘I’ve been ten minutes late for each of my meetings all day,’ he confessed to me with a wry grin, rolling his eyes excitedly, ‘and I just catch keep up…’
The Hippodrome by night
A Cross-section of the Hippodrome in The Sphere (1904), showing how an elephant slid down a slide into the water-filled arena. Water spectacles were an integral part of the Hippodrome’s programme after opening in 1900 and the theatre had a water tank which flooded the auditorium whenever a hydraulic a floor was lowered. © Illustrated London News/Mary Evans Picture Library
Gamblers at the casino
Frank Matcham’s charioteer upon the roof
Mid-afternoon the gaming floor
Programme for the Hippodrome revue of 1927, featuring the Hoffman Girls dance troupe, Gwen Farrar and Norah Blaney, the Ralli Twins (society twin sisters Alison and Margaret Hore-Ruthven) with Jack Hylton and his orchestra. © Mary Evans Picture Library
Where once elephants swam…
Serious gaming
Where Swan Lake was first performed
The basement bar in the former hydraulic water tank
Simon Thomas, Casino Supremo
At the barber’s shop which conceals the entrance to the speakeasy
Glittery outfits and slot machines
The Chinese restaurant in the cellar
The robot that clears the restaurant tables and returns the plates to the kitchen
Dancers limbering up in advance of a performance of Magic Mike
Rooftop lettering Hollywood style
Album cover for Shirley Bassey Live at the Talk of the Town. In the seventies, Shirley Bassey performed here on numerous occasions. © Mary Evans Picture Library
Frank Derrett’s photograph of the Talk of the Town when the Three Degrees were headlining in the seventies
New photographs copyright © Sarah Ainslie
Learn more in The London Hippodrome – An Entertainment of Unexampled Brilliance by Lucinda Gosling published by Memory Lane Media
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Along The Black Path
Sculpture of porters resting at London Fields
Taking to heart the observation by the celebrated poet & resident of Aldgate, Geoffrey Chaucer, that April is the time to go on pilgrimages, I set out last week for day’s walk in the sunshine along the ancient Black Path from Walthamstow to Shoreditch. The route of this primeval footpath is still clearly visible upon the map of the East End today, as if someone had taken a crayon and scrawled a curved diagonal line across the grid of the modern street plan. There is no formal map of the Black Path yet any keen walker with a sense of direction may follow it as I did.
Tracing a trajectory running northeast and southwest between Shoreditch Church and the crossing of the River Lea at Clapton, the Black Path links with Old St in one direction and extends beyond Walthamstow in the other. Sometimes called the Porter’s Way, this was the route cattle were driven to Smithfield and the path used by smallholders taking produce to Spitalfields Market. Sometimes also called the Templars’ Way, it links the thirteenth century St Augustine’s Tower on land once owned by Knights Templar in Hackney with the Priory of St John in Clerkenwell where they had their headquarters. No-one knows how old the Black Path is or why it has this name, but it once traversed open country before the roads existed. These days the path is black because it has a covering of asphalt.
On the warmest day of spring I took the train from Liverpool St Station up to Walthamstow to commence my walk, seeking respite in the sunshine after the harsh winter that outstayed its allotted season. In observance of custom, I commenced my pilgrimage at an inn, setting out from The Bell and following the winding road through Walthamstow to the market. A tavern by this name has stood at Bell Corner for centuries and the street that leads southwest from it, once known as Green Leaf Lane, reveals its ancient origin in its curves that trace the contours of the land.
Struggling to resist the delights of pie & mash and magnificent 99p shops, I felt like Bunyan’s pilgrim avoiding the temptations of Vanity Fair as I wandered through Walthamstow Market which extends for a mile down the High St to St James, gradually sloping away down towards the marshes. Here I turned left onto St James St itself before following Station Rd and then weaving southwest through late nineteenth century terraces, sprawling over the incline, to emerge at the level of the Walthamstow Marshes.
Then I walked along Markhouse Avenue which leads into Argall Industrial Estate, traversed by a narrow footpath enclosed with high steel fences on each side. Here you may find Allied Bakeries, Bates Laundry and evangelical churches including Deliverance Outreach Mission, Praise Harvest Community Church, Celestial Church of Christ, Mountain of Fire & Miracle Ministries and Christ United Ministries, revealing that religion may be counted as an industry in this location.
Crossing an old railway bridge and a broad tributary of the River Lea brought me onto the Leyton Marshes where I was surrounded by leaves unfurling, buds popping and blossom exploding – natural wonders that characterise the rush of spring at this sublime moment of the year. Horses graze on the marshes and the dense blackthorn hedge which lines the footpath provided a sufficiently bucolic background to evoke a sense that I was walking an ancient footpath through a rural landscape. Yet already the municipal parks department were out, unable to resist taking advantage of the sunlight to give the verges a fierce trim with their mechanical mower even before the the plants have properly sprouted.
It was a surprise to find myself amidst the busy traffic again as I crossed the Lea Bridge and found myself back in the East End, of which the River Lea is its eastern boundary. The position of this crossing – once a ford, then a ferry and finally a bridge – defines the route of the Black Path, tracing a line due southwest from here.
I followed the diagonal path bisecting the well-kept lawn of Millfields and walked up Powerscroft Rd to arrive in the heart of Hackney at St Augustine’s Tower, built in 1292 and a major landmark upon my route. Yet I did not want to absorb the chaos of this crossroads where so many routes meet at the top of Mare St, instead I walked quickly past the Town Hall and picked up the quiet footpath next to the museum known as Hackney Grove. This byway has always fascinated me, leading under the railway line to emerge onto London Fields.
The drovers once could graze their cattle, sheep and geese overnight on this common land before setting off at dawn for Smithfield Market, a practice recalled today in the names of Sheep Lane and the Cat & Mutton pub. The curve of Broadway Market leading through Goldsmith’s Row down to Columbia Rd reveals its origin as a cattle track. From the west end of Columbia Rd, it was a short walk along Virginia Rd on the northern side of the Boundary Estate to arrive at my destination, Shoreditch Church.
If I chose to follow ancient pathways further, I could have walked west along Old St towards Bath, north up the Kingsland Rd to York, east along the Roman Rd towards Colchester or south down Bishopsgate to the City of London. But flushed and footweary after my six mile hike in the heat of the sun, I was grateful to return home to Spitalfields and put my feet up in the shade of the house. For millennia, when it was the sole route, countless numbers travelled along the old Black Path from Walthamstow to Shoreditch, but last week there was just me on my solitary pilgrimage.
At Bell Corner, Walthamstow
‘Fellowship is Life’
Two quinces for £1.50 in Walthamstow Market
Walthamstow Market is a mile long
At St James St
Station Rd
‘leaves unfurling, buds popping and blossom exploding which characterise the rush of spring’
Enclosed path through Argall Industrial Estate skirting Allied Bakeries
Argall Avenue
‘These days the path is black because it has a covering of asphalt’
Railway bridge leading to the Leyton marshes
A tributary of the River Lea
Horses graze on the Leyton marshes
“dense blackthorn which line the footpath provided a sufficiently bucolic background to evoke a sense that I was walking an ancient footpath”
‘the municipal parks department were out, unable to resist taking advantage of the sunlight to give the verges a fierce trim with their mechanical mower even before the the plants have properly sprouted’
The River Lea is the eastern boundary of the East End
Across Millfields Park towards Powerscroft Rd
Thirteenth century St Augustine’s Tower in Hackney
Worn steps in Hackney Grove
In London Fields
At Cat & Mutton Bridge, Broadway Market
Columbia Rd
St Leonard’s Church, Shoreditch
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East End Blossom Time
In Bethnal Green
Let me admit, this is my favourite moment in the year – when the new leaves are opening fresh and green, and the streets are full of trees in flower. Several times, in recent days, I have been halted in my tracks by the shimmering intensity of the blossom. And so, I decided to enact my own version of the eighth-century Japanese custom of hanami or flower viewing, setting out on a pilgrimage through the East End with my camera to record the wonders of this fleeting season that marks the end of winter incontrovertibly.
In his last interview, Dennis Potter famously eulogised the glory of cherry blossom as an incarnation of the overwhelming vividness of human experience. “The nowness of everything is absolutely wondrous … The fact is, if you see the present tense, boy do you see it! And boy can you celebrate it.” he said and, standing in front of these trees, I succumbed to the same rapture at the excess of nature.
In the post-war period, cherry trees became a fashionable option for town planners and it seemed that the brightness of pink increased over the years as more colourful varieties were propagated. “Look at it, it’s so beautiful, just like at an advert,” I overheard someone say yesterday, in admiration of a tree in blossom, and I could not resist the thought that it would be an advertisement for sanitary products, since the colour of the tree in question was the exact familiar tone of pink toilet paper.
Yet I do not want my blossom muted, I want it bright and heavy and shining and full. I love to be awestruck by the incomprehensible detail of a million flower petals, each one a marvel of freshly-opened perfection and glowing in a technicolour hue.
In Whitechapel
In Spitalfields
In Weavers’ Fields
In Haggerston
In Weavers’ Fields
In Bethnal Green
In Pott St
Outside Bethnal Green Library
In Spitalfields
In Bethnal Green Gardens
In Museum Gardens
In Museum Gardens
In Paradise Gardens
In Old Bethnal Green Rd
In Pollard Row
In Nelson Gardens
In Canrobert St
In the Hackney Rd
In Haggerston Park
In Shipton St
In Bethnal Green Gardens
In Haggerston
At Spitalfields City Farm
In Columbia Rd
In London Fields
Once upon a time …. Syd’s Coffee Stall, Calvert Avenue
The Gentle Author’s Tour Of Petticoat Lane
I am delighted to announce THE GENTLE AUTHOR’S TOUR OF PETTICOAT LANE, a new tour for 2025, launching this spring.
At present, ust one tour is open for booking on Saturday 3rd May.
Click here to book for The Gentle Author’s Tour of Petticoat Lane
Experience the drama of the celebrated market and meet some those who made it including, Geoffrey Chaucer, Betty Levi, Tubby Isaacs, Franceskka Abimbola, Jeremy Bentham, Fred the Chestnut Seller and the Pet Shop Boys.
Hosted by The Gentle Author, this is a walking tour of storytelling and sightseeing, complemented with archive photography, paintings and music.
Tours commence at 2pm, meeting outside Aldgate Station and concluding at 4pm with tea and freshly baked cakes in Spitalfields.
Click on this picture to enlarge the diorama of Petticoat Lane by Howard Karslake
Nature In London
Contributing Photographer Lucinda Douglas Menzies kindly gave me a copy of LONDON’S NATURAL HISTORY by R S R Fitter published in 1945, in which I discovered this splendid gallery of colour plates by Eric Hosking and other distinguished photographers of the day.
Feeding the pelicans at St James’s Park (Eric Hosking)
Backyard pig farming (Eric Hosking)
Coldharbour Farm, Mottingham – the last farm in London (Eric Hosking)
Feeding the pigeons in front of St Paul’s Cathedral (Wolfgang Suschitzky)
The New River & North-East Reservoir at Stoke Newington (Eric Hosking)
The nearest rookery to London, at Lee Green SE12 (Eric Hosking)
Allotments on Barking Levels (Eric Hosking)
Sand martin colony in a disused sand pit near Barnet bypass (Eric Hosking)
The Upper Pool at sunset with London Bridge in the background (Eric Hosking)
River wall at the confluence of the Ingrebourne with the Thames at Rainham (Eric Hosking)
Cabbage attacked by caterpillars (P L Emery)
A magnolia in the grounds of Kenwood House (Eric Hosking)
The Thames at Hammersmith with mute swans (Eric Hosking)
Sheep grazing at Kenwood House (Eric Hosking)
Teddington Lock (Eric Hosking)
A plum orchard near Chelsfield, Kent (Eric Hosking)
A black-headed gull feeding in St James’s Park (Eric Hosking)
A bold red deer at Richmond Park (C E Maney)
South-African grey-headed sheld duck, pair of mallard and a coot in St James’s Park (Eric Hosking)
Mute swans nesting on the River Lea, Hertingford, Herts (Eric Hosking)
Crocuses at Hyde Park Corner (Eric Hosking)
Roses in Queen Mary’s Garden, Regent’s Park (Wolfgang Suschitzky)
Anglers on the River Lea near Broxbourne, Herts (Eric Hosking)
Almond blossom in a suburban front garden, Ruislip, Middlesex (Eric Hosking)
Pear Tree in Blossom, Crouch End (Eric Hosking)
Rosebay willow herb and Canadian fleabane in a ruined City church (Eric Hosking)
Coltsfoot on a blitzed site (Eric Hosking)
Berkeley Sq plane trees (L Dudley Stamp)
Cress beds at Fetcham, Surrey (Eric Hosking)
Glasshouses in the Lea Valley (Eric Hosking)
Hainault Forest, Essex, from Dog Kennel Hill. The whole of this area was ploughed up a century ago (Eric Hosking)
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The Auriculas Of Spitalfields
Click here to book tickets for my tour tomorrow and through spring
An Auricula Theatre
In horticultural lore, auriculas have always been associated with Spitalfields and writer Patricia Cleveland-Peck has a mission to bring them back again. She believes that the Huguenots brought them here more than three centuries ago, perhaps snatching a twist of seeds as they fled their homeland and then cultivating them in the enclosed gardens of the merchants’ grand houses, and in the weavers’ yards and allotments, thus initiating a passionate culture of domestic horticulture among the working people of the East End which endures to this day.
You only have to cast your eyes upon the wonder of an auricula theatre filled with specimens in bloom – as I did in Patricia’s Sussex garden – to understand why these most artificial of flowers can hold you in thrall with the infinite variety of their colour and form. “They are much more like pets than plants,” Patricia admitted to me as we stood in her greenhouse surrounded by seedlings,“because you have to look after them daily, feed them twice a week in the growing season, remove offshoots and repot them once a year. Yet they’re not hard to grow and it’s very relaxing, the perfect antidote to writing, because when you are stuck for an idea you can always tend your auriculas.” Patricia taught herself old French and Latin to research the history of the auricula, but the summit of her investigation was when she reached the top of the Kitzbüheler Horn, high in the Austrian Alps where the ancestor plants of the cultivated varieties are to be found.
Auriculas were first recorded in England in the Elizabethan period as a passtime of the elite but it was in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that they became a widespread passion amongst horticulturalists of all classes. In 1795, John Thelwall, son of a Spitalfields silk mercer wrote, “I remember the time myself when a man who was a tolerable workman in the fields had generally beside the apartment in which he carried on his vocation, a small summer house and a narrow slip of a garden at the outskirts of the town where he spent his Monday either in flying his pigeons or raising his tulips.” Auriculas were included alongside tulips among those prized species known as the “Floristry Flowers,” plants renowned for their status, which were grown for competition by flower fanciers at “Florists’ Feasts,” the precursors of the modern flower show. These events were recorded as taking place in Spitalfields with prizes such as a copper kettle or a ladle and, after the day’s judging, the plants were all placed upon a long table where the contests sat to enjoy a meal together known as “a shilling ordinary.”
In the nineteenth century, Henry Mayhew wrote of the weavers of Spitalfields that “their love of flowers to this day is a strongly marked characteristic of the class.” and, in 1840, Edward Church who lived in Spital Sq recorded that “the weavers were almost the only botanists of their day in the metropolis.” It was this enthusiasm that maintained a regular flower market in Bethnal Green which evolved into the Columbia Rd Flower Market of our day.
Known variously in the past as ricklers, painted ladies and bears’ ears, auriculas come in different classes, show auriculas, alpines, doubles, stripes and borders – each class containing a vast diversity of variants. Beyond their aesthetic appeal, Patricia is interested in the political, religious, cultural and economic history of the auricula, but the best starting point to commence your relationship with this fascinating plant is to feast your eyes upon the dizzying collective spectacle of star performers gathered in an auricula theatre. As Sacheverell Sitwell once wrote, “The perfection of a stage auricula is that of the most exquisite Meissen porcelain or of the most lovely silk stuffs of Isfahan and yet it is a living growing thing.”
Mrs Cairns Old Blue – a border auricula
Glenelg – a show-fancy green-edged auricula
Piers Telford – a gold-centred alpine auricula
Taffetta – a show-self auricula
Seen a Ghost – a show-striped auricula
Sirius – gold-centred alpine auricula
Coventry St – a show-self auricula
M. L. King – show-self auricula
Mrs Herne – gold-centred alpine auricula
Dales Red – border auricula
Pink Gem – double auricula
Summer Wine – gold-centred alpine auricula
McWatt’s Blue – border auricula
Rajah – show-fancy auricula
Cornmeal – show-green-edged auricula
Fanny Meerbeek – show-fancy auricula
Piglet – double auricula
Basuto – gold-centred alpine auricula
Blue Velvet – border auricula
Patricia Cleveland-Peck in her greenhouse.
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