Lewis Lupton In Spitalfields
Cover price is £35 but you can buy it from Spitalfields Life for £30
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The Gentle Author will be giving an illustrated lecture, showing David Hoffman’s photos and telling the stories behind them on Thursday 7th November 7:30pm at Wanstead Tap, 352 Winchelsea Rd, E7 0AQ
In the spring of 1968, artist Lewis Frederick Lupton came to Spitalfields and submitted this illustrated report on his visit to the Christ Church Spitalfields Crypt Newsletter.
Interior of Christ Church, Spitalfields, 1968 – without galleries or floor
On Ash Wednesday 1968, I set off at eleven for Spitalfields to see the Rev. Dennis Downham about his work among alcoholic vagrants. Walking up the road from the Underground Station, I saw a man very poorly dressed, his face a pearly white, obviously ill. Then came a tramp, as lean, dirty, unkempt, bearded and ragged as any I have seen. This was a district where there was real poverty.
The Rectory was a substantial Georgian house such as one sees in many a country village. The study overlooked a small garden and the east end of the church, where plane trees grew among old tombstones.
After lunch, we went out to see something of the parish. The first person we encountered was a fine-looking young American in search of his ancestors, who asked for the parish registers. After directing him to County Hall, we crossed over into a narrow street between tall old brick houses with carved and moulded eighteenth century doorways. Out of one of these popped a little Jewish man with a white beard, black hat and coat.
Round the corner in Hanbury St, the Rector unlocked (“You have to be careful about locks here”) the door of a building in which the church now worships ( “Christ Church itself needs a lot spending in restoration before it can be used again”). The building now employed once belonged to a Huguenot church, of which there were seven in the parish, and still has the coat of arms granted by Elizabeth I carved above the communion table.
Thousands of French Protestants found a refuge from persecution in this parish. The large attic windows belonging to the rooms where they kept their looms may still be seen in many streets and the street names bear record of the exiles – Fournier St, Calvin St etc
Crossing Commercial St, we came across a charming seventeenth century shop in a good state of preservation. Its fresh paint made it stand out like a jewel from the surrounding drabness.
A stone’s throw further on, photographs pasted in a window advertised the attractions of one of the many night clubs in the area.
Opposite a kosher chicken shop, one of a the staff – a Jewish man with a beard, black hat and white coat was throwing pieces of bread to the pigeons.
Round the corner, we plunged into an offshoot of the famous Petticoat Lane which forms the western boundary of Spitalfields.
Turning eastwards, we tramped along the broken pavements of a narrow lane running through the heart of the district. It seemed to contain the undiluted essence of the parish in its fullest flavour, a mixture of food shops, warehouses, prison-like blocks of flats, derelict houses and bomb-sites. “There are twenty-five thousand people living in my parish. It is the only borough in central London which has residential life of its own,” revealed the Rector.
Christ Church stands out like a temple of light in the surrounding squalor. Designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor, its scale is much larger than life and the newly-gilded weathervane is as high as the Monument. “I climbed up the ladders to the top last year when steeplejacks were at work upon it,” commented the Rector.
Were it not for the brave work which has been begun in the cellars, the building would only be a proud symbol of the Faith, no more.
Down the steps, to the left of the porch, there is a reception area with an office and a clothes store.
One sleeping fellow had a tough expression. “False nose,” said the Rector, “he had his real one bitten off in a fight.” The central area is devoted to the work for which the crypt was opened. Except for a billiard table, it is like a hospital ward, mainly taken up with beds on which the patients rest and sleep.
Yet, a crypt is crypt and the lack of daylight is a handicap but, with air-conditioning throughout, spotless cleanliness and a colour scheme of cream and turqoise blue, the cellars of Christ Church have been turned into a refuge which offers help and hope to those of the homeless alcoholics who have a desire to be rescued from their predicament. – L.F.L.
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David Hoffman In Cheshire St Market
Cover price is £35 but you can buy it from Spitalfields Life for £30
CLICK HERE TO ORDER A SIGNED COPY OF ENDURANCE & JOY
The Gentle Author will be giving an illustrated lecture, showing David Hoffman’s photos and telling the stories behind them on Thursday 7th November 7:30pm at Wanstead Tap, 352 Winchelsea Rd, E7 0AQ
“I was born in the East End, but my upwardly-mobile parents moved away to the green fields of Berkshire and then back to the safe suburbs of South London. By the time I drifted back to Whitechapel as a young man in 1970, I found myself in a world I had never imagined.
I encountered bomb sites still rubble-strewn from the war, smashed windows, empty shops, rubbish-scattered streets and many lost, desperate people wandering aimlessly, often clutching a bottle of cheap cider or meths. Then I was broke, unemployed and clueless, and it was scary to imagine a future amidst this dereliction.
I found a room in a damp, rickety slum in Chicksand St and began to explore, soon discovering the Sunday market in Cheshire St where I picked up a warm coat and a blanket for next to nothing. The market was surreal, with people sitting on the kerb hoping to sell a couple of old shoes and a broken razor. Other stalls were stacked with the debris of house clearance – carpets, furniture, pictures, kitchenware and books – whole lives condensed and piled up for sale.
Yet I found the market inspiring. Unregulated and chaotic, the unifying emotion was of hope bubbling through desperation. Even at the very lowest end of poverty, these people thronging the streets had got up early, pulled together a carrier bag of junk and headed off, sustained by the possibility of seeking a few pounds to get them through the next day or two. No matter how badly things had turned out, they were not giving up. It was this hope-filled resilience that buoyed me up and showed me a way forward.”
David Hoffman
Photographs copyright © David Hoffman
In Search Of The Alleys Of Old London
Cover price is £35 but you can buy it from Spitalfields Life for £30
CLICK HERE TO ORDER A SIGNED COPY OF ENDURANCE & JOY
The Gentle Author will be giving an illustrated lecture, showing David Hoffman’s photos and telling the stories behind them on Thursday 7th November 7:30pm at Wanstead Tap, 352 Winchelsea Rd, E7 0AQ
I set out in the footsteps of Alan Stapleton seeking ‘London’s Alleys, Byways & Courts’ that he drew and published in a book in 1923, which I first encountered in the archive at Bishopsgate Institute.
It is a title that is an invitation to one as susceptible as myself to meander through the capital’s forgotten thoroughfares and my surprising discovery was how many of these have survived in recognisable form today.
Clearly a kindred spirit, Stapleton prefaces his work with the following quote from Dr Johnson (who lived in a square at the end of an alley) – ‘If you wish to have a notion of the magnitude of this great city, you must not be satisfied with seeing its great streets and squares, but survey its innumerable little lanes and courts.’
Jerusalem Passage, Clerkenwell
Jerusalem Passage, Clerkenwell
St John’s Passage, Clerkenwell
St John’s Passage, Clerkenwell
Passing Alley, Clerkenwell
Passing Alley, Clerkenwell
In Pear Tree Court, Clerkenwell
In Pear Tree Court, Clerkenwell
Faulkner’s Alley, Clerkenwell
Faulkner’s Alley, Clerkenwell
Red Lion Passage, Holborn
Red Lion Passage is now Lamb’s Conduit Passage, Holborn
Devereux Court, Strand
Devereux Court, Strand
Corner of Kingly St & Foubert’s Place, Soho
Corner of Kingly St & Foubert’s Place, Soho
Market St, Mayfair
Market St is now Shepherd Market, Mayfair
Crown Court, St James
Crown Court is now Crown Place, St James
Rupert Court, Soho
Rupert Court, Soho
Meard St, Soho
Meard St, Soho
Alan Stapleton’s images courtesy Bishopsgate Institute
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Piotr Frac, Stained Glass Artist
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 Little Visitors
Sian Rees introduces an unexpected discovery in the work of Maria Hack (1777 – 1844), published by Darton, Harvey & Darton of Gracechurch St in the City of London
In Maria Hack’s The Little Visitors, published in London in 1815, one of the characters is a young slave. Although you might not expect children’s books of the Georgian era to explore the experience of slavery, some authors did embrace the challenge of discussing it with a young readership.
Even after the slave trade was outlawed by the 1807 Slave Trade Act, it was not until the Slavery Abolition Act of 1833 that it became illegal to own or purchase slaves. Maria Hack’s father, John Barton, had been involved in the Society of Friends to Influence the Abolition of Slavery.
In her book, Tom is a twelve-year-old boy who has been bought by sailors in the West Indies and brought to England, before being rescued from poor treatment and delivered to safety. Unsurprisingly perhaps, the wider industry of slavery is not portrayed in detail but Tom’s presence in the story as a credible and charismatic character reveals the violence of his origins through personal experience.
Maria Hack wrote educational books to provide children with assistance in reading, offering information about the world and moral guidance. This ‘conduct of life’ genre was popular among women writers and pioneered by Mary Wollstonecraft in the late eighteenth century. The protagonists are children of the same age as the readers in familiar situations they could recognise and relate to.
The Little Visitors is the story of two sisters, Ellen & Rachel, who visit their learned aunt’s house in the countryside. Through a series of dialogues with their erudite aunt, the girls learn about horticulture, the origin of household goods such as tea and coffee and how the poor sustain themselves through working in farming and domestic service. By the standard of modern children’s books, the story is lacking in excitement. But Maria Hack enlivens her tale by introducing an element of mystery in the form of the aunt’s unusual angora cat, Rosa.
Although the girls are curious to know who gave the cat to their aunt, there is never enough time at the end of each day of educational improvement for her to tell them. So the intrigue builds until one morning their aunt is ready to explain that she once rescued Tom, a child slave, who gave her the cat as a thank you present.
The aunt and Tom met by chance in a seaside town, when she heard a child crying out in distress and saw a black boy trying to escape from a sailor. The aunt confronted the sailor and persuaded him to accept money for the boy, then she placed Tom with someone she trusted to treat him with kindness. The protagonists, Ellen & Rachel, never actually meet Tom but his sympathetic representation as a character of the same age as the girls ensures that they and the readers identify with him and his situation.
Growing up in the sixties and sixties, I do not recall much diversity in the children’s books of that era. So while Maria Hack’s story reveals the limitations of her time, we should recognise her initiative in making a black character visible and refusing to erase slavery from her portrayal of everyday life.
Images courtesy University of California
Sian Rees is the author of PLANTING DIARIES, Gardens, Planting Styles & Their Origins
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The Cabbies’ Shelters Of Old London
Created between 1875 and 1914, sixty of these structures were built by the Cabmen’s Shelter Fund established by the Earl of Shaftesbury to enable cabbies to get a meal without leaving their cabs unattended and were no larger than a horse and cart so they might stand upon the public highway.
Today, only thirteen remain but all are grade II listed and, on my pilgrimage around London in the sunshine, I found them welcoming homely refuges where a cup of tea can be had for just 50p.
Thurloe Place, SW7
Embankment Place, Wc2
Wellington Place, NW8
Chelsea Embankment, SW3
Grosvenor Gardens, SW1
St Georges Sq, SW1
Kensington Park Rd, W11
Temple Place, WC2
Warwick Ave, W9
Russell Sq, WC1
Kensington Rd, W8
Pont St, SW1
Hanover Sq, W1
The shelter attendant at Wellington Place has special spoon-bending powers
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From Ken Sequin’s Badge Collection
From hundreds in his magnificent collection, Ken Sequin kindly selected badges for me with a local connection – and they comprise an unexpected history of the East End.
Button badges were invented in 1896, when Benjamin Whitehead of Whitehead & Hoag in New York filed a patent for a celluloid-covered metal badge, swiftly opening offices in London, Toronto & Sydney as the craze went global.
Adopted first as a means of advertising by tobacco companies, button badges were quickly exploited for political, religious and fund-raising purposes by all kinds of clubs and organisations.
Kingsland Rd Costermongers Association manufactured by E. Simons, late nineteenth century – one of the rarest badges, possibly a unique survivor
Souvenir of Dirty Dick’s in Bishopsgate, twenties or thirties
St John at Hackney Parochial School founded in 1275 is one of the oldest in the country, early twentieth century
Woolwich Arsenal Football Club, 1907
Hackney Band Club, hat badge c1873, one of the most radical Working Men’s Clubs
Boer War, 1900 – one of the very earliest button badges in this country
Reverse of previous badge, note local manufacturer
Royal Eye Hospital, Moorfields – early twentieth century
Lea Bridge Speedway Supporters’ Club – 1928-32
Dartford Pageant, 1932
Possibly the Regal Edmonton, 1934
Bethnal Green Men’s Institute, Gymnastics, Turin St, early twentieth century
Temperance and Salvation Army buttons, early twentieth century
Dockers Trade Union Badge, established 1889
A cache of badges found in an allotment shed in Walthamstow
World War II propaganda badges
Salvage. Dulwich Council
St George’s Sunday School, Weslyan Mission House, in the eighteen-nineties it took over Wilton’s Music Hall
Reverse of previous badge
WWII National Air Raid Precautions Animals Committee, dog’s identity badge
World War II badges for fundraising clubs to build airplanes
WWII Fundraising club to buy a destroyer
First Labour Mayor of Poplar, Will Crooks was elected MP for Woolwich in 1902
Reverse of buttons above
Dulwich & District Defence League, a Home Front battalion established in 1915
The Mildmay Hospital in Shoreditch was named after Francis Bingham Mildmay in 1890
Early twentieth century silver badge rewarding service in hospital ‘meals on wheels’ service
Barnado’s Young Helpers’ Badge with a portrait of the founder, early twentieth century
Tilbury Seamen’s Hospital, ‘For services rendered’ – possibly thirties
John Groom’s Crippleage & Flower Girls Mission, fund-raising rosettes, c 1900
Photographs copyright © Ken Sequin
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John Gillman’s Bus Ticket Collection
Viscountess Boudica’s Domestic Appliances
Libby Hall’s Dog Photography Collection
Clive Murphy’s Matchbox Label Collection
