John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Nine)
On Boxing Day, the day in the festive calendar traditionally associated with sporting activities, it is my delight to introduce Round Nine in the epic series of characterful portraits of the members of the London Ex-Boxers Association by Contributing Photographer John Claridge.
David Parker (First fight 1956 – Last fight 1961)
Anthony Brinton (Boxing Trainer)
Freddie King (First fight 1951 – Last fight 1965)
Dean Ferris (First fight 1986 – Last fight 1993)
Henry Browne “of London Town” (First fight 1936 – Last fight 1952)
Jim Oliver (First fight 1961 – Last fight 1978)
Billy Walker (First fight 1959 – Last fight 1962)
Stephen Kent (London Ex-Boxers Association resident filmmaker)
Bernie Dillan (First fight 1945 – Last fight 1961)
Albert Collier (Footballer from boxing family)
Billy Meek (First fight 1949 – Last fight 1972. Plus parallel career as jockey)
Roy Pollard (First fight 1947 – Last fight 1954)
Photographs copyright © John Claridge
Take a look at
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round One)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Two)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Three)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Four)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Five)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Six)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Seven)
John Claridge’s Boxers (Round Eight)
and these other pictures by John Claridge
Along the Thames with John Claridge
At the Salvation Army with John Claridge
A Few Diversions by John Claridge
Signs, Posters, Typography & Graphics
Views from a Dinghy by John Claridge
In Another World with John Claridge
A Few Pints with John Claridge
Some East End Portraits by John Claridge
Sunday Morning Stroll with John Claridge
At the Smithfield Christmas Eve Auction
The carnivores of London converged upon Smithfield Market yesterday, as they do every year for the annual Christmas Eve auction staged by Harts the Butcher. At ten in the morning, the rainy streets were almost empty yet, as I came through Smithfield, butchers in white overalls were wheeling precarious trolleys top-heavy with meat and fowls over to the site of the auction where an expectant crowd of around a hundred had gathered, anxiously clutching wads of banknotes in one hand and bags to carry off their prospective haul in the other.
Contributing Photographer Colin O’Brien met me there. He grew up half a mile away in Clerkenwell during the nineteen forties and, although it was his first time at the auction, he remembered his father walking down to Smithfield to get a cheap turkey on Christmas Eve more than sixty years ago. Overhearing this reminiscence, a robust woman standing next to us in the crowd struck up a conversation as a means to relieve the growing tension before the start of the auction which is the highlight of the entire year for many of stalwarts that have been coming for decades.
“You can almost guarantee getting a turkey,” she reassured us with the authority of experience, revealing she had been in attendance for fifteen successive years. Then, growing visibly excited as a thought came into her mind, “Last year, I got thirty kilos of sirloin steak for free – I tossed for it!”, she confided to us, turning unexpectedly flirtatious. Colin and I stood in silent wonder at her good fortune with meat.“We start preparing in October by eating all the meat in the freezer,” she explained, to clarify the situation. “Last night we had steak,” she continued, rubbing her hands in gleeful anticipation, “and steak again tonight.”
Yet our acquaintance was terminated as quickly as it began when the caller appeared in a blood-stained white coat and red tie to introduce the auction. A stubby bullet-headed man, he raised his hands graciously to quell the crowd. “This is a proper English tradition,” he announced, “it has been going on for the last five hundred years. And I’m going to make sure everybody goes away with something and I’m here to take your money.”
His words drew an appreciative roar from the crowd as dozens of eager hands were thrust in the air waving banknotes, indicative of the collective blood lust that gripped the assembly. Standing there in the midst of the excitement, I realised that the sound I could hear was an echo. It was a reverberation of the famously uproarious Bartholomew Fair which flourished upon this site from the twelfth century until it was suppressed for public disorder in 1855. Yesterday, the simple word “Hush!” from the caller was enough to suppress the mob as he queried, “What are we going to start with?”
The answer to his question became manifest when several bright pink loins of pork appeared as if by magic in the hatch beside him, held by butchers beneath, and dancing jauntily above the heads of the delighted audience like hand puppets. These English loins of pork were soon dispatched into the crowd at twenty pounds each as the curtain warmer to the pantomime that was to come, followed by joints of beef for a tenner preceding the star attraction of day – the turkeys! – greeted with festive cheers by the hungry revellers. “Mind your heads, turkeys coming over…” warned the butcher as the turkeys in their red wrappers set out crowd-surfing to their grateful prospective owners as the cash was passed hand to hand back to the stand.
It would not be an understatement to say that mass hysteria had overtaken the crowd, yet there was another element to add to the chaos of the day. As the crowd had enlarged, it spilled over into the road with cars and vans weaving their through the overwrought gathering. “I love coming for the adventure of it,” declared one gentleman with hair awry, embracing a side of beef protectively as if it was the love of his life, “Everyone helps one another out here. You pass the money over and there’s no pickpockets.”
After the turkeys came the geese, the loins of lamb, the ribs of beef, the pork bellies, the racks of lamb, the fillet steaks and the green gammon to complete the bill of fare. As the energy rose, butchers began to throw pieces of red meat into the crowd to be caught by their purchasers and it was surreal to watch legs of lamb and even suckling pigs go flying into the tumultuous mass of people. Finally, came tossing for meat where customers had the chance of getting their steaks for free if they guessed the toss correctly, and each winning guess was greeted with an exultant cheer because by then the butchers and the crowd were as one, fellow participants in a boisterous party game.
Just ninety minutes after it began, the auction wrapped up, leaving the crowd to consolidate their proud purchases, tucking the meat and fowls up snugly in suitcases and backpacks to keep them safe until they could be stowed away in the freezer at home. In the disorder, I saw piles of bloody meat stacked on the muddy pavement where people were tripping over them. Yet a sense of fulfilment prevailed, everyone had stocked up for another year – their carnivorous appetites satiated – and they were going home to eat meat.
As I walked back through the narrow City streets, I contemplated the spectacle of the morning. It resembled a Bacchanale or some ancient pagan celebration in which people were liberated to pursue their animal instincts. But then I realised that my thinking was too complicated – it was Christmas I had witnessed.
Photographs copyright © Colin O’Brien
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The World of the East End Saree Shops
In these recent days, when it has barely got lighter than dusk and I have been walking around bent double into the driving rain, I found myself lifting my gaze occasionally in admiration at the illuminated windows of saree shops that cluster in Bethnal Green and Whitechapel. So, when Contributing Photographer Sarah Ainslie brought me these poignant images of saree shops glimmering with colour and light despite the pervasive gloom, I suggested we pay a few of these establishments a call and discover more of the world of the East End saree shops.
In Bethnal Green, at Zhara Fashion House we were greeted by three women, Majida, Shuheli and Afsana, who have just started in business one month ago, specialising in selling fabric lengths which permit their young customers to make sarees to their own patterns and thus avoid the ready made styles that fill the other shops. Their youthful optimism was in harsh contrast to Abdul Latif at Modhubon Ltd who had been trading for twenty-one years across the road in a shop stacked to the ceiling with sarees folded neatly on shelves. “I used to go to India once a year to buy stock, but not for the last three years,” he confessed with a frown, “I’ve had a very bad run.” Mr Latif’s customers are senior women who have been economising with their purchases, he revealed, and this week, far outside the summer wedding season, he was alone in his magnificently decorated shop like the host of a party to which nobody came.
Yet just a couple of doors down, we discovered a brisk trade at Mahir where lots of saree bargains were to be had in the sale and the entire range of stock was accessible to the eager women browsing on rails. Sumsun Nahar Shirne, the briskly efficient under-manager, explained that this was one of seven branches scattered as far apart as Leeds and Luton, owned by her cousin Shurajul Islam Akbas. “Customers come from as far away as Germany, Italy, France, even America,” she bragged.
Similarly at Zari, next door, where Shofig Islam brought ten years of retail experience at Superdrug to the family business, there was no shortage of customers. Shofig had an impressive array of vibrantly coloured glittering sarees, yet he was eager to stress that he stocked a wide range of different garments to suit the tastes of younger women who like to mix western and eastern clothes in their every day wardrobes and only wear full sarees for special occasions. Alert to social trends, working closely with manufacturers in India to deliver the designs that women want and with his richly-coloured stock creating a dazzling display, Shofig admitted to me that he had even been able to expand the business recently.
Taking the stroll down Vallance Rd, we set out to explore the saree shops shining in the shadows of the alleys leading off Whitechapel Rd and – among other delights – discovered the wonders of Zai, a compact traditional establishment where proprietor Helal Khan, who has been in business for ten years, welcomed us kindly. Mr Khan has a loyal trade of local women who frequent his discreet premises with its immaculately organised stock.
The dusk that had prevailed all day turned to darkness as the rain set in again and we just had time left to step into Cuckoo Fashions in Whitechapel Market, which we found remarkable for the selection of panels of richly patterned printed silks at just fifteen pounds each. It was tempting to carry some away but we were spoiled for choice, as we had been all day by the sensuous hues and tinsel on display at every shop we visited. In spite of social changes, we were reassured that the saree shops will be with us for the foreseeable future to bring glitz to our dowdy East End streets. So we set off into the murk with our spirits lifted by the exposure to so much glowing colour and vowed to come back another day.
Abdul Latif, Modhubon Ltd.
Shofig Islam at Zari.
Helal Khan at Zai in Whitechapel.
Fatima Chowdury, Jumara Noor Eli and Sumsun Nahar Shirna at Mahir in Bethnal Green.
Photographs copyright © Sarah Ainslie
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The Chicken Shops of Spitalfields
Save The Marquis Of Lansdowne
Tim Whittaker, Director of the Spitalfields Trust on the threshold of The Marquis of Lansdowne
Since 1839, The Marquis of Lansdowne has stood on a quiet corner in Hoxton round the back of the Geffrye Almshouses (which became the Geffrye Museum in 1914) and it is not unlikely that a few pensioners from the almshouses might have frequented the Marquis on occasion.
It is a quintessential London public house and, as in so many East End streets, forms the lynchpin of the neighbourhood. Historically, pubs stood as a counterpoint to the church – offering temples where men sought solace from the pressure of their working and domestic lives. Yet in recent years hundreds have gone, taking away community meeting places and impoverishing social life.
The Marquis of Lansdowne closed in 2000 and now belongs to the Geffrye Museum which describes itself as “the museum of the home.” Disappointingly, the Museum wants to demolish the pub and clear the site for a new building by architect David Chipperfield. They are passing over the opportunity to restore this dignified Regency building and include it as part of the museum, enriching their collection and broadening the story they tell of the lives of working people by showing “the home from home.” According to the Museum’s current plans, The Marquis of Lansdowne and the history it represents are destined to be erased, giving way to pavement widening and a plant room for the new structure.
In November, Tim Whittaker, Director of the Spitalfields Historic Buildings Trust (who won the Country Life Restoration of the Century Award for his outstanding work in renovating two modest early nineteenth century terraces in Whitechapel) wrote to the Geffrye Museum asking them not to demolish The Marquis of Lansdowne, and offering to take on the pub and restore it to its former glory. The Spitalfields Trust proposal included the option to work in partnership with the Museum or to buy The Marquis of Lansdowne, renovate it and lease it to a tenant. Since the Geffrye’s Museum’s projected edifice on this site is to include a bar and restaurant, you might hope that an architect could embrace the opportunity to make The Marquis of Landowne the starting point for the design of the new structure, finding a sensitive and ingenious way to connect the pub with the existing Museum buildings.
Yet the Geffrye Museum rejected the option of retaining The Marquis of Landowne, pursuing instead the notion of another signature building by a star architect to add to the one they opened in 1998. However, the application for £16.3 million funding for the new building has yet to be approved by the Heritage Lottery Fund and maybe questions will be raised about the validity of using Heritage Lottery money to destroy our heritage? Equally, Hackney Council Planning Department has not yet given its consent to the demolition of The Marquis of Lansdowne which they have identified as a “heritage asset” within a Conservation Area.
The Geffrye Almshouses were originally built by the Ironmongers’ Company in 1714 and the Museum itself was created as a result of a public petition when these historic buildings were threatened with demolition after the Ironmongers moved their almshouses to Kent one hundred years ago. In their enlightenment, the London County Council responded to the petition by creating the Geffrye Museum dedicated to the history of the furniture industry that thrived in Hoxton and Shoreditch at the time.
A century later, there is a new public petition addressed to the Geffrye Museum itself – asking them to grant a reprieve to The Marquis of Lansdowne, showing respect for the culture of the working people of London by integrating it into the museum, and thereby acknowledging the significance of the public house in all our histories.
I urge you to spread the word to your friends and family throughout the festive period.
Sign the Petition to save The Marquis of Lansdowne here
The Marquis of Lansdowne on the corner of Cremer St & Geffrye St
A local landmark in Hoxton since 1839.
Sketch by Tim Whittaker of The Spitalfields Trust illustrating his proposal to renovate the Marquis of Lansdowne.
The concrete box on the right is the proposed replacement for The Marquis of Lansdowne.
Colour photographs copyright © Colin O’Brien
Black & white photographs show former London pub interiors
Visit the Facebook page for the Campaign to Save The Marquis
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Sandra Esqulant, The Golden Heart
Colin O’Brien’s Pellicci Portraits (Part 4)
Roast turkey with all the trimmings was the special of the day at E. Pellicci, 332 Bethnal Green Rd, all this week. In the midst of the pre-Christmas melee, Contributing Photographer Colin O’Brien & I dodged the fry-ups and plates of pasta to bring you another set of portraits of the lucky diners at London’s best-loved family-run cafe. Colin had his favourite ham, egg & chips again but Nevio Pellicci persuaded me to have the scrambled eggs with smoked salmon for a change, then we both finished it off with syrup pudding & custard as usual.
Teresa Kerry – “I’ve been coming to Pelliccis for twenty years but I don’t come as often as I should. When my friends get together, this is where we meet.”
Eric Hall of BBC Radio Essex’ Eric Hall’s Monster Memories – “I am told I was brought here in my pram, so I am probably the longest-running customer.”
Mandy Martin – “I first came to Pelliccis when I was fifteen and I come at least twice a week. I’ve been coming with my mum who’s eighty-eight, it’s a real community here.”
Josh Weller – “I live next door to Maria Pellicci and I’ve been eating at Pelliccis for a year.”
Sequin Tan – “This my first time at Pelliccis. It was recommended on Anthony Bourdain’s website.”
Alex Georgou – “For the last five years, I’ve been coming to Pelliccis at least once a week and sometimes I come every day – Monday to Friday.”
“Trendy Wendy” Rolt – “I first came here three years ago, since I started working with Arch 76.”
Darren Knotts – “I’ve not been coming to Pelliccis that long but I come twice a week – it looks good!”
Suraya Klein-Smith – “I’ve been coming to Pelliccis nearly every day since I was about nine.”
Ric Prescod – “I’ve been coming to Pelliccis every Wednesday for three years, since I started training regularly at the Repton Boxing Club.”
Peter Smith – “I come to Pelliccis twice a day – that’s ten times a week – ever since we started the contract with Hackney Council six months ago.”
“Birthday Girl” Hannah Voller – “Nevio’s wife Nicola is my best friend and I’ve been coming here every week for five years.”
David Robinson – “I’ve been coming to Pelliccis since I was four, that’s over sixty years. I remember Nevio’s grandfather Primo. My mum used to bring us along when she did her weekly shopping.”
Graeme Walker – “This is my second time at Pelliccis.”
Silvia Pascalau – “I’ve been working at Pelliccis two years at Easter.”
Photographs copyright © Colin O’Brien
You may like to take a look at
Colin O’Brien’s Pellicci Portraits ( Part One)
Colin O’Brien’s Pellicci Portraits (Part Two)
Colin O’Brien’s Pellicci Portraits (Part Three)
and read these other Pellicci stories
Maria Pellicci, The Meatball Queen of Bethnal Green
and see these other Colin O’Brien stories
Colin O’Brien’s Clerkenwell Car Crashes
Colin O’Brien’s Kids on the Street
Travellers’ Children in London Fields
Colin O’Brien’s Brick Lane Market
Roll Up For Magic Lantern Shows!
Awaiting a Magic Lantern Show at the Bishopsgate Institute
It is my delight to collaborate with the Bishopsgate Institute, staging a return to the glory days of Magic Lantern Shows that were such a popular feature of the Institute in its early years.
We have invited Libby Hall, collector of dog photography, and two Spitalfields Life Contributing Photographers Phil Maxwell and Colin O’Brien to show their favourite pictures to an audience as modern day Magic Lantern Shows and talk about their work – to cheer up our evenings in January, February and March.
Admission is free but tickets must be reserved in advance and we expect to get booked out, so if you would like to come we advise you to book online sharpish through the Bishopsgate Institute or by calling 020 7392 9200.
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Libby Hall, Tuesday 29th January at 7.30pm
Between 1966 and 2006, Libby Hall collected old photographs of dogs, amassing many thousands to assemble what is possibly the largest number of canine pictures ever gathered by any single person. Libby began collecting casually when the photographs were of negligible value, but by the end she had published four books and been priced out of the market.
Yet through her actions Libby rescued an entire genre of photography from the scrap heap, seeing the poetry and sophistication in images that were previously dismissed as merely sentimental – and today, we are the beneficiaries of her visionary endeavour.

Brick Lane Laundrette Kiss
Phil Maxwell, Tuesday 26th February at 7.30pm
Phil Maxwell is the photographer of Brick Lane – no-one has taken more pictures here over the last thirty years than he. And now his astonishing body of work stands unparalleled in the canon of street photography, both in its range and in the quality of human observation that informs his eloquent images.
“More than anywhere else in London, Brick Lane has the organic quality of being constantly changing, even from week to week.” Phil told me when I asked him to explain the enduring fascination for a photographer. “Coming into Brick Lane is like coming into a theatre, where they change the scenery every time a different play comes in – a stage where each new set reflects the drama and tribulations of the wider world.”

Clerkenwell Car Crash, 1957
Colin O’Brien, Thursday 28th March at 7.30pm
Colin O’Brien grew up fifty yards from Hatton Garden in Victoria Dwellings, a tenement at the junction of Farringdon Rd and Clerkenwell Rd – the centre of his childhood universe in Clerkenwell, which Colin portrayed in spellbinding photographs that evoke the poetry and pathos of the forgotten threadbare years in the aftermath of World War II.
Over all this time, Colin has pursued his talent and taken more than half a million pictures, many of them in the East End. His work is barely known because he never worked for publication or even for money, devoting himself single-mindedly to taking photos for their own sake – yet over the passage of time, as a consequence of the rigour and purism of his approach, the authority of Colin O’Brien’s superlative photography stands comparison with any of the masters of twentieth century British photography.
From Bow To Biennale
David Buckman introduces his new book which recovers the lost history of The East London Group, one of the major artistic movements to come out of the East End in the last century yet – extraordinarily – almost forgotten until now.
The Arches, Mare St by Albert Turpin
How is it that one of the most innovative, commercially successful, and – in its time – hugely publicized British art groups of the twentieth century became neglected? That was the case until my book From Bow to Biennale: Artists of the East London Group was published last month. During the writing of it, whenever I mentioned the Group to experts in this period, the response was usually – East London Group, just a name.
My curiosity about the East London Group was aroused many years ago when I read an illustrated feature about it in the April 1931 issue of “Studio” magazine. As a private interest in early twentieth-century art developed over time and as I earned a living as a freelance journalist in a largely unrelated field, I would occasionally return to a photocopy of that article, which acted like a maggot in my mind.
At the end of the eighties, when I was researching my dictionary “Artists in Britain since 1945” in my spare time, I decided to call at the last known address in Hampstead of the painter Phyllis Bray to check if she was still active. By then Phyllis was suffering from Parkinson’s Disease but, as we chatted, the East London Group was mentioned. She had been a member and, for several years, was married to its founder, John Cooper. She directed me to her daughter, Philippa, also an artist, who held the Red Book of press cuttings about the Group’s activities during the twenties and thirties.
Thus began – when I could afford the time – the long, painstaking research to tell the Group’s story. As a start, the book of cuttings was photocopied to ensure a second copy existed and it became a collection that expanded as more cuttings were found. One of the problems for a researcher is that people who save cuttings sometimes do not date or source them or, if they do, someone else decides to tidy them up years later by snipping off these essential details. The Red Book had been subject to this treatment at some stage and, consequently, many weeks were spent in correspondence with likely helpers and in microfilm booths at the newspaper library in Colindale, pursuing clues on the back of the cuttings or the choice of typeface employed.
It emerged that the Group had achieved enormous, largely flattering press coverage, for its exhibitions, with the “Daily Mail” covering one show three times. Writing in the “Studio” in 1929 – as the Group forayed into the West End – F. G. Stone commented how its painters had found “beauty about the streets of the district that is known to the Post Office as E.3.” Just over a year later, the distinguished critic T. W. Earp in the “New Statesman” thought these artists “furnish the best exhibition of young English contemporary painting which has been shown in London this year.” Early in 1933, American writer Helen McCloy in the “Boston Evening Transcript,” judged that “Never has there been so peculiarly English a group in modern art as these young workingmen” who had been able to convey “the very spirit of the Cockney, the happy robust soul who is England.” By end, in 1936, when the Group was holding its eighth annual show at Lefevre Galleries, the “Sunday Times” termed it “the most interesting and promising of our younger art societies.”
By then, John Cooper was middle-aged and had only a few years to live, dying in 1943. As a charismatic young painter from Yorkshire, he had inspired such raw material as errand boys, shopgirls, basket-makers and window cleaners to give up their precious spare time several days a week to attend his East End classes. After teaching in Bethnal Green, he moved to a school in Bow where he attracted several dozen students. Many of these painters, showing as the East London Art Club, had an exhibition at the Whitechapel Art Gallery in December 1928. This prompted Charles Aitken, its former director, then in charge of what is now Tate Britain, to display some of the pictures at the Millbank gallery early in 1929, and that show lead to the Lefevre Galleries series, provincial shows, participation in mixed exhibitions in Britain and abroad, plus solo shows for many of the members.
At the 1936 Venice Biennale, two East London Group members, Elwin Hawthorne and Walter Steggles, participated alongside luminaries such as Frank Brangwyn, Barbara Hepworth, Gilbert Spencer and Philip Wilson Steer. Walter was one of the six surviving East London Group members that I traced, providing unique memories that otherwise would have died with him. When a small reunion was organized at Phyllis Bray’s house, Walter told her daughter Philippa – “John Cooper should have been decorated for what he did for artists.”
Walter, like his brother Harold, was grateful for the variety of teaching provided at Bow. John Cooper had been at the Slade School of Fine Art just after World War I and decided that a number of ex-Slade friends could aid his work and a few would later exhibit with the Group too. Phyllis Bray was one, William Coldstream another, but his real coup was to get Walter Sickert to make the trip into this unfashionable part of London to impart unique and often eccentric wisdom. Here was artistic royalty, and Lilian Leahy, who eventually married Elwin Hawthorne, recalled to me how as Sickert sat expounding, dressed in plus-fours and diamond-patterned socks, shopgirls would giggle with their hands over their mouths.
The East London Group website lists the thirty-five artists I claim as members. In addition to the history of the Group, the book contains biographical essays on more than twenty of these, including such colourful characters as Murroe FitzGerald, Irish Civil War death sentence escapee, eventually managing director in London of the Acme Flooring & Paving Co – and Albert Turpin, professional window cleaner, Anti-Fascist protestor and Labour mayor of Bethnal Green, whose passion was to record the disappearing End End that he grew up in. Yet many of the other members remain ghostly figures, despite my research into their personal histories.
As well as attracting Walter Sickert, John Cooper involve dozens of celebrities in his project. Charles Aitken encouraged the influential art dealer Joseph Duveen to buy paintings. Samuel Courtauld, Lord Melchett, Lord Burnham and the writer Arnold Bennett gave early financial help. Lady Cynthia Mosley and Osbert Sitwell opened exhibitions. The Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald and Labour Party stalwart George Lansbury attended exhibitions and gave moral support. As their reputation developed over the years, the Group sold to influential collectors with the Lefevre Galleries welcoming extra, non-catalogue pictures, as sales rose and, on occasion, an exhibition’s term was extended.
As I investigated, I found that John Cooper and his Group became involved in more than exhibitions of paintings. It was these multifarious non-gallery activities that consumed my time, calling for detective work. It emerged that the Group was involved in making a documentary film about their activities. Also, members also painted pictures for stage plays and contributed to Shell’s popular range of posters. Phyllis Bray created three huge murals for the New People’s Palace in Mile End Rd and John Cooper revived mosaic teaching at the Central School of Art, becoming director of Courtauld-Cooper Studios and producing exciting Modernist work.
With such a large body of diverse work to its credit and dozens of works in public collections, the Group must take its place in any history of British Art in the first half of the century. Its omission would be scholarly negligence. And the story did not end with World War II as – thanks to the enduring inspiration of John Cooper – many members continued painting, long after the East London Group expired.
Trinity Almshouses, Mile End Rd by Elwin Hawthorne, c.1935 (Private collection)
Shoreditch Church from Hackney Rd by Albert Turpin, c.1955 (Private collection)
Cable St by Albert Turpin (Private collection)
Rebuilding St Matthew’s Church, Bethnal Green by Albert Turpin, c.1956 (Private collection)
Marian Square, Hackney by Albert Turpin, 1952 (Private collection)
Salmon and Ball, Bethnal Green by Albert Turpin, c.1955 (Private collection)
Old Ford Rd by Harold Steggles, c.1932 (Private collection)
Bow Rd by Elwin Hawthorne, 1931 (Walter Steggles Bequest)
Grove Rd, Bow by Harold Steggles (Private collection)
Devons Rd, Bow, E3 by Elwin Hawthorne, c.1931 (Private collection)
Sunday Morning, Farringdon Rd by Cecil Osborne, c.1929 (Royal Pavilion and Museums, Brighton & Hove)
North East Bethnal Green by George Board, c.1930, oil on canvas (Walter Steggles Bequest)
Interior by Brynhild Parker (Cheltenham Art Gallery & Museum)
Illustrated London News, December 29th, 1928.
From Bow to Biennale: Artists of the East London Group by David Buckman can be ordered direct from the publisher Francis Boutle and copies are on sale in bookshops including Brick Lane Bookshop, Broadway Books, Newham Bookshop, Stoke Newington Bookshop and London Review Bookshop.



























































































































