The Dome seen from the Blackwall Tunnel southern approach. Photo © David Secombe 2004.

From A Guide to the New Ruins of Great Britain*, Owen Hatherley 2010:

This place was a Blairite tabula rasa. Faced with an area the size of a small town, freshly decontaminated and waiting to have all manner of ideas laid down upon it, what did they create – or rather, what did the companies and corporations that they subsidized create? A couple of areas of luxury housing (typically, with fairly minisucule apartments) a couple of shopping centres, several car parks, and now a gigantic Entertainment Complex to finally get those car parks filled. Amusingly, given that the area was once so keen to trumpet its eco credentials (a supermarket partly run on wind power), it has since become another of London’s locked traffic grids, as well it might having the Blackwall Tunnel nearby. Blairites, and neoliberals in general, have always posited some sort of ‘force of Conservatism’, some entrenched opposition either from the remnants of organized Labour or woolly traditionalists, that prevents their vision from being realized. Here, there was nothing but blasted wasteland when they got hold of it. Yet a more astounding failure of vision is difficult to imagine. If there is a vision here, it’s of a transplant of America at its worst – gated communities, entertainment hangars and malls criss-crossed by carbon-spewing roads; a vision of a future alienated, blankly consumerist, class ridden and anomic. The ‘corrosive humours’ turned out to be more difficult to erase than might have been imagined.

* published by Verso. © Owen Hatherley 2011.

Bugsby’s Way, SE10. Photo © David Secombe 2010.

In 2006, the Millennium Dome was bought by the magnate Philip Anschutz who planned to open ‘Britain’s first Supercasino’ and an entertainment complex within it, whilst the phone company O2 paid for it to be rebranded ’The O2’.

From  A Guide to the New Ruins of Great Britain* by Owen Hatherley, 2010:

I attended Open House here in 2006, hoping to be able to see inside this fabulously enormous, hubristic space, able to fit several football pitches inside it, Canary Wharf laid flat, amongst other dubious statistical feats. The reality was rather more disappointing, as Anschutz employees showed nonplussed architecture buffs nothing but the small space where the Casino was being constructed – to no avail, as the Supercasino permission was given to New Emerging Manchester instead, until the plans for these gambling cathedrals were cancelled by Gordon Brown upon taking power. Nonetheless, the Dome was reopened in June 2006, its ceremonial opening a concert by bafflingly enduring hair metal act Bon Jovi.

Around the time the Dome was reopened as the O2, the renovated Royal Festival Hall had also just opened upriver to much fanfare. This fragment of the 1951 exhibition appears as the upscale, upriver entertainment centre, with the Dome as the prolefeed easterly equivalent. Inside, the newly reopened Dome resembles an Arizona shopping mall, only sheathed in greying Teflon. The whole area is ‘themed’ in a Grand Theft Auto art deco, and I wonder what Richard Rogers and Mike Davies think about what happened to their building. A ‘chill-out zone’ consists of a tent filled with iPods. Decorated guitars and fibreglass palm trees punctuate the ‘streets’, while outside a billboard proclaims a little history of entertainment – 1951 Frank Sinatra, 1983 ‘Metallica invents Speed Metal’, 1995 Blur vs Oasis – emblazoned on a series of gurning crowds.

* published by Verso. © Owen Hatherley 2010.

Bicycle hoops, Greenwich Peninsula. Photo © David Secombe 2004.

From A Guide to the New Ruins of Great Britain*  by Owen Hatherley, 2010:

Within a few years, the area had taken on a definite identity, albeit not the one that was in the original brochure, and for most of the 2000s this was the place London forgot; a desolate landscape, one that was fascinatingly wrong, given the ecological and social-democratic ideas that had initially been thrown around in relation to it. A holding pen for Canary Wharf, yet somehow so much weirder than the usual Thames-side developments they inhabit. Alongside Erskine’s buildings – a staggered skyline of rendered concrete towers that would clearly be more at home in Malmö – was a nature reserve and a beach full of discarded shopping trolleys. The views were of industry either abandoned or clinging on, and pervaded by the sickly-sweet smell of the Tate & Lyle works. People were seldom seen, and the highways for cars en route to the Dome were utterly empty. Something resembling a dual hangar housed the ‘David Beckham Football Academy’ while concrete grain silos that would make Corbusier weep in admiration surveyed the area like sentries.

While this place was clearly a resounding failure on any social measure, it was a compellingly alien interzone in London’s cityscape. Neighbouring areas might be wracked by seething poverty and violence, but this enclave gave off a post-apocalyptic calm.

* published by Verso. © Owen Hatherley 2011

Greenwich Peninsula, SE10. Photo © David Secombe 2002.

From A Guide to the New Ruins of Great Britain*, Owen Hatherley, 2010:

The Greenwich Meridian just upriver made it an obvious centre for the Millennium Celebrations in 1999, so Major’s terminal Tory government drew up plans that were swiftly adopted by New Labour when they came to power in 1997. This time, though, the then vaunted Vision Thing would be key. Mike Davies at the Richard Rogers partnership, as it was then known, devised a PVC Tent that looked akin to a squashed version of the neighbouring gasholders, with yellow supports stretching themselves out like an industrial crown. The form was borrowed from an earlier, abortive master plan for the Royal Docks on the other side of the Thames, where several smaller tents were planned before the last recession. Initially devised as temporary, the tent’s PVC was demoted to  Teflon when Green campaigners complained of ‘Waste’, landing them with a semi-permanent structure they would subsequently loudly abhor. Inside would be an exhibition divided into zones on culture, science, the body. When Blair’s government won the first Labour Landslide since Clement Attlee’s in 1945, some compared this Millennium Dome to the 1951 Festival of Britain, a parade of Modernist design and popular futurism mounted on the South Bank of the Thames. ‘Three dimensional socialist propaganda’ as it was called by Churchill, who hated and demolished it, leaving nothing after a Tory re-election but the Royal Festival hall, which would be encased in Portland stone in the 1960s to harmonize with the conservative restoration architecture of the Shell Centre.

Predictably, but no less sadly for that, things did not pan out that way. The Dome’s exhibition turned out to house a vast McDonalds and array of corporate advertainment, holding it up to a public ridicule that has only recently subsided.

* published by Verso. © Owen Hatherley 2011.

The Dome under construction, seen from Bugsby’s Reach. Photo © David Secombe 1997.

From A Guide to the New Ruins of Great Britain*, Owen Hatherley, 2010:

As recently as fifteen years ago, this place was called Bugsby’s Marshes. Downriver from Greenwich, with its baroque masterpieces and gift shops, a moonscape of blasted, smoking industry: the largest gasworks in the world, an internal railway ferrying goods and effluent from the river out to the suburbs, and a catalogue if toxic waste, known from the early nineteenth century as an area of ‘corrosive vapours’, something only added to by the autogeddon of the Blackwall Tunnel which sweeps a roaring fleet of cars under the Thames at rush hour.

In the post-industrial city, what we do with these places, with their memories of the grotesque mutations that ushered in its industrial precursor (after moving production out to China), is to clean them up and make them safe for property-owning democracy. Accordingly, by the 1990s this by now unproductive wasteland was ready for redevelopment, after a mammoth decontamination effort. Just over the river is an example of what this could have been like, the Canary Wharf development on the Isle of Dogs, where dead industry was rebranded in the 1980s as the ‘Docklands Enterprise Zone’. Architecturally, it was given the treatment pioneered in New York’s post-industrial Battery Park, a postmodernist simulation of a metropolis that never truly existed, populated by banks and newspapers. It even used the same architect, Cesar Pelli. Yet after the early 1990s recession, perhaps this as considered rather foolhardy for the Peninsula: at this point Docklands’ Stadtkrone at Canary Wharf (‘Thatcher’s Cock’ as it was nicknamed)was an empty, melancholic monument to neoliberal hubris, as opposed to today’s rapaciously successful second City of London. Something else had to be done: the ‘entertainment’ variant of the same schema swung into operation.

* published by Verso. © Owen Hatherley 2011.

See also: Flotsam and jetsam no. 5

Once Freya was settled in (a few cuddles aiding), we decided we could go out for a walk and a bus ride.

King Lud, mythical founder of London

We passed through Ludgate Circus where this handsome head, representing King Lud, the mythical founder of London, appears on the building that was once a pub called Old King Lud, founded in 1870. Today it is no longer a pub, being shared between a bank and a cafe.

Plaque to the Daily Courant (1702)

Beside the building, this plaque reminds us that the first English regular daily newspaper, the Daily Courant, was published in a house nearby from 1702.

Robin Hood Gardens, Poplar

Two buses brought us here, to Poplar. This building is one of those belonging to the Robin Gardens estate, built in the 1970s. Some people (people who don’t actually have to live here) want it listed and preserved, whereas the Council wants to demolish it. It seems that a majority of the residents would be glad to see the back of it too. English Heritage opposes listing and that should count for something, I think.

Canary Wharf overshadows Poplar

Poplar grew up as the docks developed and people came into the area in search of work or brought by incoming shipping. By the end of the 19th century, the area was overcrowded and poverty stricken. It suffered badly from enemy action in the Second World War. Today, most living accommodation is council housing.

A spider explores a hole in a brick wall

In a contrast to the towering housing blocks, we watched this tiny spider exploring a hole in a brick wall, perhaps seeking a nesting site.

All Saints Church

As Poplar grew, so the need for a parish church was felt. All Saints was built of Portland stone in the early 1820s to a plan by Hollis which includes an Ionic portico and a Wren-style steeple.

The robust railings of All Saints

The commodious grounds are surrounded by a robust and well designed set of railings. I don’t know whether these are original or are replacements (they seem held together by modern bolts).

Poplar Public Baths

Poplar Baths opened in 1852 and the building was used not only as a baths by also for dancing and other entertainments. Sadly, today it lies closed and derelict, despite being listed since 2001. A plan was passed by the Council in March 2010 to renovate and reopen the baths. Will this plan ever be realized?

In front of the baths stands this monument to Richard Green, 1803 to 1863. Scion of a business family, Green entered the family firm and later became a ship builder and ship owner, operating from the East India Docks.

Green’s philanthropic works include support for children’s education and improvement of conditions at sea. He endowed the Sailors’ Home at Poplar, the Merchant Seamen’s Orphan Asylum in East London and the Dreadnought Seaman’s Hospital at Greenwich and many other projects.

Richard Green and the side panels

The sculpture was created by Edward W. Wyon in 1865 and the monument set up in 1866. Two bronze side panels reflect Green’s shipping interests. The dog adds a pleasant informal quality to the piece.

Ceci n’est pas une bibliothèque
(It’s an Ideas Store)

Further down Chrisp Street are shops and this building. Don’t mention the ‘L’ word, for though it may look like a public library, behave like a public library and provide the functions of a public library, it isn’t a public library: it’s an Ideas Store. Allegedly.

Having worked in the public library myself, I would have complimented this one its design and amenities. I think I would have quite liked to work there had I still been in the business. The only (small) criticism I have is that the olive green decor makes the place a little too dark for complete comfort.

Greenwich Peninsula

I could perhaps have entitled this post “Both ends of the Blackwall Tunnel”. That is because the famous tunnel that carries traffic under the Thames has one end in Poplar (at Blackwall, as the name suggests) and the other end here, where we came next. Can you guess what the cables on the left of the picture are supporting?

The Millennium Dome

They are supporting cables of this icon of British organizational, managerial and financial incompetence, the Millennium Dome, which has rendered the government of the day the laughing stock of Europe. The best that can be said of it is that its building at least cause a clean-up of this previously dangerously polluted site.

Looking back towards the Dome

The buildings along here are not bad as modern architecture goes and we particularly liked the black and white tiled one (see above) which, according to the designers, was inspired by the work of mathematician and philosopher Roger Penrose’s work on tessellations.

A riverside walk

Leaving the Dome and other buildings behind, we took to the riverside walk. There were very few people about and it was pleasant despite the cold. There were also some interesting sights along the way.

Metal tree

This metal tree makes a striking and startling sight. Behind it is a mooring of the Thames Clipper service. (See Riding the Thames.)

Slice of Reality

This piece, called Slice of Reality, is literally a slice through a ship. The artist is Richard Wilson.

Old jetty, now a wildlife sanctuary

This structure, once a working jetty, is now closed off and has been turned into a wildlife sanctuary.

The zero meridian line

You may be able to see that the projecting boom in the above photo is matched by one on the jetty. The line they indicate is the longitude of Greenwich, the zero meridian line from which longitude around the world is usually measured. The line is marked right across the whole site.

Famous silhouettes against the sinking sun

The view from the waterside is very different from what it would have been when the docks were active and London was the busiest port in the world. Today it is still frantically busy but the work is done inside tall office buildings and scene along the banks is quiet and peaceful. There is always something strangely fascinating about light shimmering on the water.

Canary Wharf across the water

We took a final look across to the north bank at Canary Wharf and its giant companions, dwarfing the older buildings and apartment blocks at water’s edge. A tube train carried us under the river to Canary Wharf (Isle of Dogs) then under the river again to Canada Water. Here we took the Overground to Highbury & Islington and then the bus back to the Angel.

Poplar and the Greenwich Peninsula are very different worlds despite being linked by the Blackwall Tunnel. In the past, they would have shared more, I think, when the great ships came here to disgorge merchandise from all over the world.

Moorings, Greenwich Peninsula

Copyright © 2011 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

Photo © David Secombe 1999.

From Wikipedia entry ‘Millennium Dome’:

In popular culture:

During the political controversy surrounding the dome in 1996 Wonderbra ran an advertising campaign with the slogan ‘Not all domes lack public support’.

On Channel 4‘s The Big Breakfast they had the Millennium Dome Watch, in which the same clip of the dome was used with a boat and bird going past. This was to parody the inaction over its construction. On 1 April 1998, the programme ran an April Fool’s Day joke in the Dome Watch slot which showed the Dome’s tented roof on fire.

Within the foundations of the Dome in 1998, a time capsule was buried by Katy Hill and Richard Bacon, two of the then current presenters of the long running BBC children’s programme Blue Peter. The capsule is due to be opened in 2050.

The Dome was featured in the pre-title sequence of the 1999 James Bond film The World Is Not Enough.

The song “Silvertown Blues” from Mark Knopfler‘s album Sailing to Philadelphia deals with the construction of The Dome.

Since its construction in 1999, it has been a prominent feature in the title sequence of the popular soap opera EastEnders, having been built in that area of London.

Two books about the attempted robbery of the De Beers diamonds from the Dome were published in 2004: Diamond Geezers – The Inside Story of the Crime of the Millennium written by Kris Hollington, published by Michael O’Mara Books Ltd., and Dome Raiders – How Scotland Yard Foiled the Greatest Robbery of All Time written by Jon Shatford and William Doyle, published by Virgin Books.

Gideon’s Daughter is a BBC television drama written and directed by Stephen Poliakoff. Starring Bill Nighy, Miranda Richardson and Emily Blunt, it was broadcast in the UK on BBC One on 26 February 2006 … It is set against the backdrop of New Labour’s rise to power, the death of Princess Diana, and the ill-advised development of The Dome.

In the 2007 Doctor Who novel Made of Steel (ISBN 1846072042) written by Terrance Dicks, published by BBC Books, the Cybermen have made the empty dome their base.

See also: no. 179.

I must come clean. In my description, I must confess that I was perhaps not entirely truthful with you. I do not, in fact, own this thing. I know, you’re no doubt horrified that I might lead you astray with such an untruth, given my usual devotion to purest honesty which shineth forth like a beacon &c, &c. But you see, I think the real story behind this rather bizarre thing is worth an entry in itself.

It’s actually a sculpture entitled Slice of Reality, created by Richard Wilson. Wilson’s work is generally rather large scale and architectural in subject matter. He is, according to Wikipedia, interested in “unsettl[ing] or break[ing] people’s perception of space, what they think space might be.” Well, that’s pretty psychogeographical, now, isn’t it? I mean, that’s a lot of what psychogeography is about, perception of spaces and shit.

Perhaps Wilson’s most famous work is 20:50. This consists of a room filled with used sump oil. One walks through the room, looking down on the oil and into the upside-down reflection of the space you’re in.

Another, which I rather like, is Turning the Place Over. Wilson’s taken a nondescript building in Liverpool, one of those terminally boring blocks that appeared in the 1960s when Britain’s architects took a collective twenty-year holiday, and cut a hole in it. He’s motorised the bit he cut out so it spins around – effectively turning that section inside-out. Suddenly, a boring building becomes really interesting. Brilliant, eh?

So, what’s the story behind A Slice of Reality? I’m glad you asked, metaphorical literary device. You may remember the almighty balls-up that was the Millennium Dome, which I think we’re all keen to forget (seriously, it’s just a huge bloody marquee). It wasn’t that it was a bad idea per se, just really poorly executed and overall giving the impression that it had been thrown together the week before the opening with whatever they had to hand. Much like my school projects, in fact.

Anyway, one of the ideas had at the time was a collection of public art to be dotted around the Greenwich Peninsula, celebrating and commemorating the area. My suggestion (“Dump a load of toxic waste there!”) was not one of the ideas chosen, even though it would both have celebrated the history of the area and saved me a lot of bother later on.

Wilson’s interpretation of this was a section of a ship on the line of the Greenwich Meridian. This would have celebrated what Greenwich is most famous for, and would also have been a memorial to the ships that once used this area. Ironically, as I mentioned in my previous entry, this is probably one of the few areas of the Port of London that could still be called industrial, but then, what do I know? Not enough to build an installation reminding us of our obligation to the environment in past and future - okay, I’ll stop.

The vessel is, according to Mr Wilson’s website, an ocean-going sand dredger that has been cut down by 85%, leaving only the interesting bit with the cabins and engine room. The whole thing is, as you can see, pretty open to the elements, and up close it’s rather rusty and battered. Nevertheless, from certain angles it takes on a distinctly surreal quality – there’s a side-on photo on Wilson’s website that actually looks like it’s been badly Photoshopped, but is entirely unaltered.

It’s the only sculpture from the Millennium Experience to survive in situ, and for rather interesting reasons. You see, it was supposed to be taken down at the end of 2000, but for a technicality. According to the law, the river is not actually part of the Peninsula – it’s part of the Port. So Mr Wilson was able to take advantage of this nice little loophole of maritime law. As 15% of a ship is still a ship, he got the mooring permit and now he uses it as a studio. Which I think is just grand, especially as he opens it to the public on Open House weekends. Drink three bottles of red before going on board to simulate the motion of the waves.

Incidentally

This isn’t the only grounded vessel to serve as artists’ quarters – there’s a tugboat cabin on Eel Pie Island that does the same. Remind me to show you sometime.

Further Reading

http://www.richardwilsonsculptor.com/projects/slice%20of%20reality.html - Richard Wilson’s site.

http://diamondgeezer.blogspot.com/2010/09/slice-of-reality.html - Diamond Geezer’s entry on the subject, from which I have shamelessly swiped a lot of information. Nobody will ever know, as long as I don’t write about the plagiarism in my blog or something.

I don’t know why, but I’ve always been fascinated by industrial urban desolation. This might explain why I find Amy Winehouse strangely attractive. The Greenwich Peninsula has long been known for these qualities, as I discovered myself when I ended up here by accident some years ago (put it this way – the Dome hadn’t yet opened). I was curious to see how it had changed in the intervening time.

As you can see in the photo above, it’s what we psychogeographer-types call “hostile.” Once you step out of North Greenwich Tube Station, you’ve basically got lots of roads, fences and barriers on all sides – not exactly hospitable to pedestrians. Once you finally get down to the river, you can see that this far east, London is still a working port.

On the right you can see Trinity Buoy Wharf, one of the oddities of London. Circled in purple are a couple of lightships, what they’re doing there I have no idea. Circled in green is the Bow Creek Lighthouse, the only inland lighthouse in the United Kingdom. I really wish I could have got a bit closer. Some other time, maybe.

On the left you can see a contrast between old and new Docklands. In the background, the Canary Wharf development is very visible. In the foreground, an old pier used for loading barges. This has been turned into a sort of wildlife preserve , part of a general policy to bring the area back to nature. After a century and a half of pollution, this is a motion I applaud. An interesting scheme in place elsewhere on the peninsula is to resist erosion by binding the mud with naturally-occurring plant life rather than artificial walls.

There was something unutterably surreal about the view on the right, almost post-apocalyptic. Although many industries have occupied the Peninsula, and several still do, the big one was gasworks – more gas was produced here in the mid-twentieth century than anywhere else in the world (insert fart joke if required). When North Sea gas was discovered, the gasworks were rendered obsolete. Though there are a few remnants here and there, most of the ground has been built over or – as here – cleared in anticipation of new development. This is another of those transitional things that I think is quite important to capture.

Now, this is taking psychogeographical hostility to the limit. You see that flooded road between the heaps of sand there? Yeah, that’s the footpath. I’m not joking. It was at this point that I began to get heartily sick of post-industrial wasteland. No, wait, I tell a lie…

… this was when I got heartily sick of post-industrial wasteland. Readers may note the highly unsuitable choice of trousers. Consider also that this was actually quite early on in the scramble through floodwater/over sandbanks. By the end I was considering suicide, or at least buying a decent pair of boots.

On the right is an aggregate… tower… loading… thing. I don’t know what it is, if I’m honest. It has a conveyor belt. By this stage I was starting to go a little bit mad, I think. God only knows why I took a picture here.

In fact, I think I’m going to skip the next few photos. They mostly consist of mud and concrete. I found some rails where a crane once went, that was about it.

However, I did eventually find something more interesting, for a given value of “interesting.”

And here it is. These strange steel structures are on Enderby’s Wharf, once the location of a submarine cable works. Which made cables, you see, for going underwater. It’s quite interesting. I think, anyway.

The wharf is preserved now, but was locked up when I was passing. The actual works buildings are boarded up, which is lame.

Here is a breaker’s yard for boats. Again, not sure exactly what my thinking was in taking a photo here. This is actually one of the nicer photos.

I think I might have photographed this because it was a landmark I remembered from the previous visit. I also recall a chemical plant, which seemed to have closed down since then. I remember passing under some sort of loading-pipe-rig-type thing that was no longer there.

This is another of those “observe the contrast between the old Docklands and the new” photos. On one side of the road, grotty industry. On the other, shiny new flats. It makes you think. Specifically, it makes you think, “Christ, imagine having to look at that grotty industry every morning.”

Ah, now, this is interesting. This is Greenwich Power Station, built to supply electricity to the London Underground and London County Council Tramways from 1910. Despite its antiquated nature, it is still used as a backup supply. Architecturally, I think the main body of the plant is actually quite pleasant. Certainly compared to some of the eyesores I saw earlier (“eyesores I saw”… dear me).

And here we are at historic Maritime Greenwich. Incidentally, if you wondered how I came to be on the Greenwich Peninsula back in 1999, the simple answer was that I wanted to get here, and figured that North Greenwich wouldn’t be too far away. As the crow flies, it’s not. But when it’s cold and bleak and the path is muddy and the route winds around many huge obstacles, well, let’s just say it wasn’t worth avoiding the change of trains. And here endeth the lesson.

Oh, wait, the investment thing. Well, Anatoly was as good as his word, and did indeed give me my 5% share.

Son of a bitch.

The briefs are: D&AD… so this means choosing one of those to study and Major Project, so this means choosing a project for our own final major project.

I’m not too sure where I’m going with it yet. But as soon as I get an idea, I’ll start on the research. At the moment, I really need to focus on my Competition Brief and getting everything sorted for Penrose Market on Wednesday.

Name: Penrose Market Ravensbourne

Venue: Greenwich Peninsula

Time: 2pm-6.30pm (Just before the Scissor Sisters concert begins right next door at the O2)

You can follow on twitter: http://twitter.com/penrosemarket to get more information

If you would like to know more about my stall:

Contact:

rubyophelia@hotmail.com

I can mail out bundles of cards in time for Christmas.

My postcards would also be great to use as Thank You notes for after Christmas.

The prices are:

£1 per card

£4 for 5 cards

£7 for 10 cards

See my page rubyophelia’s stall for more information and images of the cards

The area around the Dome will, once again, be unrecognisable within a few years – with planning permission given for an enormous hotel to the west of the structure, on some of the last remaining parts of the millennium exhibition site.

If you’ve got a view of the Dome from where you live – enjoy it while it lasts, because after a decade of it dominating the skyline, it’s likely to be hidden behind more big developments in the next 10 years.

Is the area around the Dome looking a bit busier today? It should do – it’s the first day of business for Ravensbourne college, which has spent the summer relocating from Chislehurst to its new, £70m home at the tip of the peninsula. This blog was lucky enough to get a tour from the college’s director, Professor Robin Baker, as his staff geared up to accept 1,400 students – ranging from pre-degree learners to undergraduates and postgraduates.

More significantly for Greenwich, today looks like being the day the area immediately around the Dome stopped being a bleak, windswept, lonely corner and started to gain some life.

Contracts have been signed for cafes to open on Peninsula Square, and there’ll be a bit of life around there during the day now, instead of the O2′s security guards and their dogs. By next spring, it’ll be radically different around there. This can only be a good thing…

The impressive exterior – the pattern is a mathematical formula based on “non-periodic tesselation” , where the windows are tiles left out – bucks the trend for contemporary buildings to show off their interiors to the public. “It’s camouflaged, it’s challenges you,” Professor Baker explained. “You can’t look in and see what’s going on.”

Inside are 9 floors and vast open spaces, where students will follow courses encompassing design, broadcasting, fashion, architecture, animation and music production. No rabbit warrens of classrooms, computer rooms and lecture theatres – unlike the exterior, most of the interior is open. It’s almost like a cutting-edge, modern business centre, which isn’t an accident.

Most students will have their own laptops, there’ll be a clean-desk policy, but the building will be open 16 hours a day – with teaching taking place across just six of those. Professor Baker says he’ll have one big message for today’s new students. “We try to treat students as professionals. We’ll say to them, ‘this is the first day of your career’.” One aspect of the new site is what isn’t there – there’s no metalwork and woodwork facilities here, with them either being provided elsewhere or students being encouraged to find their own. It’s “all about using London as a resource,” Prof Baker says – something that wasn’t easy in Chislehurst.

One thing that did strike me as a little odd – their student union bar will be, effectively, one floor of the American Bar at the O2. Granted, they’ll offer a discount, but I’m not sure I’d like to have to walk through a security cordon every time I fancied a cheap beer.

What is provided, though, is state of the art. What’s thought to be the most advanced high-definition television facilities in the country sit alongside a recording studio paid for by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. “When Led Zeppelin played the O2, they turned to Harvey Goldsmith and said, ‘we want to give something back.” The cash is also going towards a course, designed to create entrepreneurs in the music industry. Fibre-optic links connect Ravensbourne with the O2 and the data network being created to support the Olympics. But easily the most impressive thing in the workshops was a 3D scanner, which you could use to create a virtual version of anything – a toy car, or your body.

What does Ravensbourne’s arrival mean for its neighbours? Pre-degree courses already mainly attract students from the boroughs of Greenwich and Lewisham, and Greenwich Council is backing the Greenwich Digital Skills Centre, offering courses for all ages. In the long term, the council wants to see the peninsula become a “digital destination”, and has two floors in nearby Mitre Passage as a “digital enterprise centre” for businesses to showcase what they can do.

But it’s Ravensbourne that’s playing a pivotal role here, providing a role incubating start-up businesses and giving them a space to get going. There’s a track record of success here – one student recently signed a £280,000 contract with Sony to develop a game. There’ll be 40 based in the new building, although only 15 are expected to survive – but those that do will be given help in finding cheap locations in which to base themselves. I hope that the benefits of this will be felt further into Greenwich – it’d be unfortunate if all this new activity was isolated up on the peninsula, and with nearby Deptford having a pedigree for nurturing creative businesses, something special could be created in Greenwich, if the will is there.

Indeed, with Ravensbourne joining Trinity College of Music in Greenwich, Laban in Deptford and Goldsmiths in New Cross, it adds to an interesting little belt of creativity in this bit of SE London.

So that’s your quick tour of Greenwich’s newest arrival. Thanks to Ravensbourne for inviting me up there, and if you want to take a sly peek at it, their ground floor cafe is open to the public. At last, an alternative to Starbucks on the peninsula!

Tunnel Refineries, Greenwich Peninsula, London, originally uploaded by neilclasper.

David Beckham Soccer Academy and Dome – Monochrome, originally uploaded by neilclasper.

From June 2007 – one of my earlier black and white attempts.

On a bleak winters day in February the peninsula still has a long way to go before it reaches the desirability scale for work and living that some attempt to portray. I however returned when that magical orb so rarely seen in London, the sun, transformed the location into a refined segment of contemporary urban design.

Sir Terry Farrell & Partners have created a practical structure that makes up with energy efficiency what it perhaps lacks in colour coordination! The structure stands as one of the most energy efficient commercial buildings in the UK with a BREEAM ‘Excellent’ rating of over 76%. What’s your verdict?

Canary Wharf from Greenwich Peninsula – February 2010, originally uploaded by neilclasper. ]]> http://neilclasper.com/2010/01/24/greenwich-peninsula-skyline/ Sun, 24 Jan 2010 13:30:21 +0000 Neil Clasper http://neilclasper.com/2010/01/24/greenwich-peninsula-skyline/

Greenwich Peninsula Skyline, originally uploaded by neilclasper.

O2 and Thames Clippers, originally uploaded by neilclasper. ]]>