I’ve rather enjoyed looking back over the work. Jobs become personal mile posts, measuring memories and new challenges. It’s reminded me of the many interesting projects and clients I’m involved with, in the UK and overseas. The industry has seen many changes since the 1990s. Not just in the way we work day to day, with CAD and CGI, but with big changes architecturally too. My style has certainly progressed: I hope you can see it’s cleaner, sketchier and I’m much quicker too.

Most of my clients are in London, but projects are now proposed in many parts of the UK and mainland Europe. And since the Eastern block countries joined the EU, I’ve worked on a few schemes there too. In particular I worked a lot in Lisbon, starting with an office site called Quinta da Fonte through to Expo Urbe ‘98. Mostly I worked for Sua Kay, who recently won awards for their colourful new retail schemes around Spain and Portugal. It’s been a valuable experience, working closely on many varied projects from their inception.

I’ve radically changed my workflow in the past 10 years or so. As CAD rendering is now often used as the finished marketing image, I’ve moved into an area where the computer generated image can’t really compete: in the pre-plannning process, early design ideas and small run presentation packages. These need to be turned around very quickly and efficiently, and my drawing-based work- flow is well-suited to this. The visuals need to sell a design efficiently to the client, well before the building is fully realised or finalised.

I love working this way, my sketches can show how a project ‘feels’, without showing the macro-design. You glimpse the scheme, without the need to commit to a formal finished concept. This has been utilised a lot in planning material, and is especially useful for any problematic project that risks encountering local objections to a scheme with ‘sensitive issues’. Watercolours simply look ‘friendly’, more human and can reach out, make contact in a less intimidating way. I’ve always been interested in computer technology, ever since using the first little Apple Classics in the early 80s, so I’m certainly no Luddite. But recently I’ve been concerned about the importance of drawing, especially in the sense of its place in an architectural legacy. I worry that when we look back at projects from our era there won’t be many archives containing beautiful drawn images, as there are from the past. Instead, unbuilt projects will be seen as CAD renders – looking more like photographs of completed buildings. I think that’s a pity, I think the drawn image will be missed.

If we look at architectural monographs, the sketches stand out on the page.Visually they work well with photos of models and drawn up plans, and help show a sharp clarity of thinking in the design process. CAD imaging is obviously never going to go away, but I hate the idea (not just in terms of my work flow) of the hand-drawn image disappearing from the creative process. People keep telling me that drawing is making a ‘come- back’, and that’s great. But if graduates continue to enter the workplace with undeveloped drawing skills – perhaps not able to express their ideas through thumbnail sketches – how will this affect the way they design? It’s not long ago that a typical design office had mostly A0 drawing boards, whereas now it’s hard to find a parallel motion or even a large flat work-surface.

Sketch book, English days out 2011

I propose we all get our sketchbooks out, see my twitter mobsketch link. Group drawing sessions of local landmarks in the evening; maybe exhibitions too.

At its best, a good drawing can quietly influence within a design process in a creative, energetic and positive way (unlike CAD design which sometimes feels more like the tail wagging the dog). I was originally encouraged to go into architectural illustration commercially by Derek Birdsall at the RCA. Earlier, working at the AA I had come across the timeless images of Cyril Farey, Greek Thompson and Raymond Myerscough-Walker in exhibition catalogues I helped produce. These were produced during the golden age of perspectives, and Farey did some beautiful images for Edwin Lutyens which are now part of Lutyens’ legacy. Understandably, few have heard of him, it’s the architecture that’s important. I hope you can see a little of these influences in my early work especially.

Arch; E Lutyens, artist; C Farey. Midland Bank Poultry 1939

It was the architecture of West End theaters that first got me into drawing buildings. When I first moved to London – and with added luxury of some time on my hands – I set out with a small fold-up fishing stool to draw my favorite West End facades, sometimes spending days sketching ‘en plein aire’, very old school, great fun. The combination of illuminated type hanging from the front of elegant buildings seduced me, bright neon colour and Victorian wedding cake ornaments fighting for attention on the street. They still attract my eye.

I now have quite a few sketch books of pen and ink drawings, some are on this website. Now more often my camera is more likely to be close to hand to do a similar job… and maybe drawing has a touch of the busman’s holiday about it. But sketch books should be the spine of any artist’s visual work. They show how the mind is working while the hand is doing the work, they record the great ideas in ‘real time’. A nice sketch considers the scene or an idea in a uniquely simple way, it tells a sweet short story of how the artist works and their conceptual practice. Look at the books of Turner or even Joseph Beuys, they are every bit as beautiful or interesting as the finished artwork. It’s similar with architects, their early sketches are intriguing; what you see are first ideas and bold analysis at its most lucid. The 3D doodles by architects, sculptors and designers are often more exciting than work that’s laboured over. They’re a bit like looking inside a cluttered workshop, with its dusty mess.

Circles files & hammers, Hepworth studio St Ives

It’s amazing to see how big things are made and how they start with something so small.When the imagined 3D object is sketched, a new shorthand style is used. It doesn’t require a great level of detail to get close to the truth, but a looser, liquid quality that emerges in the line; it’s stripped down and the drawing gains a bright lucidity. Perhaps it’s the impatience of trying to just get something down on paper when the idea is still fresh in the head which helps invigorate the image. Recording the idea becomes paramount, almost obsessive, before it fades in the mind’s eye. The drawing must often describe the concept in just a few simple smudges, marks and quick annotations.

What I try to do for my clients is to attempt to understand the design brief and then imagine the scene in their mind’s eye. I like to think that I can produce a sketch halfway between what the job demands and what we would see if the building existed – it’s a half truth, but tries to be as honest as a sketch can ever be. Sometimes it’s as simple as producing a sketch as if I were stood in the street, in front of the project. Sometimes there’s little to go on. Sometimes there’s so much information that it’s harder to cut through it to the essential elements. That’s the thing I really enjoy, bridging all the requirements. It should be fun and it’s what makes my job so utterly rewarding.

As Confucius said, ‘Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life’, that’s worked pretty well for me.

Harbour Beach

If you fancy a week or so in St Ives here’s a nice handy place. It’s a restored three bedroom fisherman’s cottage right in the middle of ‘Downalong’. It comfortably sleeps 5 or 6 and is about fifty feet from the quayside and it’s superb beach. It’s set back from the front by a quiet slopping cobbled courtyard; Mount Zion. The living room and double bedrooms have beautiful views and because the house is over four floors, so does the characterful attic room, which nestles into the eaves with breathtaking views to the front and just a glimpse of the little Island Chapel to the rear. In addition to the Harbour Beach, it’s only about three minutes walk to little Porthgwidden, five to the surfers Porthmeor where the Tate is located and only about ten to fifteen to get to the huge Porthminster. All these beaches are clean and sandy, if you’re lucky to get a really low tide you can walk, with the aid of wellingtons (or snorkel) to Portminster straight across the harbour.

Harbour Beach living room

Harbour Beach living room

This is a well furnished, stylish, comfortable cottage. It’s bright and cheerful, airy in summer and snug in winter. It’s got pretty much everything a couple or family would need including family games, books and DVDs (not just freebies from the Sunday papers). It has free wi-fi and HD TV as well as a really well equipped kitchen.  There’s a high chair and a travel cot for the little un’s and every summer families leave some toys, so there’s a beach bag of plastic kit ready by the kitchen door. Since Easter it’s had new mattresses, hall carpet, new dining chairs and soft furnishings. There’s little bench at the bottom of the granite steps under the front porch, great for taking a morning espresso while admiring the view. The house is fully managed by a top Cornish agent and can be supplied with all bedding and towels for the stay, you can see the details, more photos and a video on the agents website http://www.cornishgems.com/holiday-cottages/harbour_beach_cottage.html

Harbour Beach attic bedroom

Few UK towns compare to St Ives, it’s physical setting is quite unique. It was voted number 1 UK beach resort by Tripadvisor in 2011, 6th in Europe!, It’s attracted painters and artists for many years and it’s still well connected with established galleries and painting schools located here. Artists first raved about the bright clean light and the bustling fishing harbour, now it’s got a cool young Cornish vibe too. The town has plenty of restaurants that suit most tastes. The three main beaches have open air cafes right on the sand www.porthminstercafe.co.uk/. They all boast interesting menus with antipodean or modern European flair as well as the usual British seaside take away favorites www.porthmeor-beach.co.uk/cafe/. The locally sourced deli’s, trad Cornish bakers, farmer market and Co-Ops easily provide all your culinary needs. The Tate and the other galleries will amply feed your hunger for the visual arts, while there’s also the mad deco style Merlin Cinema and a lively local pub music scene. The nearby Sloop has regular music nights in an interior full of old world charm, low timber ceilings propped up by a the taller locals. Annually the St Ives Festival www.stivesseptemberfestival.co.uk/ in September fills any cultural gaps after the summer season. There’s really no real need to stray out of town.

Families on benches overlooking Porthmeor beach

Cornishware and cakestand on the dining table

The road to Lands End is a spectacular drive over the boulder strewn moors, past the rocky cliffs via Zennor and Pendeen. There’s the open topped bus 300 in summer months, for £12 you can take the family, it’s well worth a go. You can get off and on when you like and visit Sennen Cove, Penzance or Lands End. When summer has passed the town is still beautiful, pretty quiet, still worth a visit. Over Christmas and New Year it comes alive again, it’s closed to traffic New Years Eve as the whole town centre becomes a parade of fancy dress revelers. We had a lovely Xmas here a few years ago, sat on the quayside under a cloudless sunny sky with beer and quavers for pre Xmas lunch snack. The rest of the country was under four inches of snow, smug us.

Porthgwidden Beach a dramatic day in winter

During the winters harshest days the views are ever changing, hypnotic, the sea and coastline becomes unpredictably wild, a contrast to the easy going milder months. There are ‘secret’ little beaches like Bamaluz to find, exposed at low tide they’re all around the town. Exploring is fun, narrow streets wind, rise and fall in a confusing network of cobbled alleys designed to get you lost, but never too far from the house a beach or a decent cafe. There isn’t a view like the one from the Porthgwidden Cafe. The mornings are best, sit outside, scrambled eggs seasoned by the sea spray and watch the skies change over Godrevy lighthouse, look out for seals or dolphins. The cottage is a cosy place to retire after a bracing day out on a blustery beach.

Harbour Beach Living room and dining area

Harbour Beach Kitchen

Porthmeor Chapel with gulls in flig

For more information, practical tips or otherwise, do contact me. For cost and availability check the Cornish Gems website http://www.cornishgems.com/holiday-cottages/harbour_beach_cottage.html

Lexi by window, 1200 x 1200mm acrylic on canvas.

It sometimes feels to me that we live in a world where instinct is seen as reckless, ten year plans are the basis of successful modern lifestyles. It’s impossible to quantify but trusting your instinct feels a little unfashionable, maybe it’s just my age.

I’ve been doing a bit of portrait painting and it feels old fashion at times. I’m fighting to find out what you need to do to make a good portrait. One thing I’m sure of; it’s very very difficult! I was recently talking to a friend about cooking, most people are fairly instinctive when it comes to most styles. Chop and throw. For them the cookery book shows the outline. If there’s a detail it’s in the odd ingredient or precise cooking time. Then you try Thai, anything out of your comfort zone and it’s not so easy, you have to relearn, and that should be exciting. When I’m painting I try to balance instinct with techniques I’m learning and around a framework of a clean, geometric and hopefully pleasing composition.

I saw the Damian Hurst at the Tate recently and didn’t feel instinct played much of a part, in that or in most contemporary British conceptual work. Maybe playfulness, humour, and an eagerness to get a thing made, that’s the positive. It’s an idea based art, not a crafty, making art, the joy of getting your hands dirty and to learn a skill is pretty irrelevant. Actually, I found the whole money as art thing repulsive, especially in the shop you must enter to leave the show. It’s an egomaniacs art.

Lexi portrait 1000mm x 250 acrylic on canvas.

Lexi in ballet stance, 100 x 250 acrylic on canvas, detail.

If there is any instinct it’s lost on me. This is art that feels like it’s tightly wrapped up by curators. The impenetrable, poorly written wall notes are required to justify what the gallery has installed. These naff little stick on boards repackage the dull thought, they try to turn a whimsical off the cuff idea into a thing of great cultural importance with deep insight. Why repackage a dum idea as any thing other than that, aren’t we celebrating the slow and dim witted, the new foundations of modern life. Thankfully the Freud and Hockney shows this year prove that there’s a demand for looking at good paintings. Of course there always has been.

Does the instinctive approach need a bit of repackaging? It feels like it’s been sidelined for years. Maybe the curators can’t rebrand this type of creativity onto a bit of foam board so easily, they can’t find the ironic cultural links.

Lexi 1200mm x 1200mm acrylic and pencil on canvas, detail.

With painting it’s all about trusting your actions in real time, you make a mark and hope it works. If it’s no good you can do it again, that’s the joy of it. Chop and throw, nothing can go ‘wrong’, if it doesn’t please you learn from the mistake and do it better next time.

I really believe we can think too hard and for too long and that can dull the creative process.

The Shoreditch Grind

In every chic London ‘village’ there is now an independent coffee shop. This signals the arrival of the bearded tweed capped tight trousered mafia. It’s an ageless trend that must send shivers down the corporate spines at Gillette, Braun, Wilkinson Sword and Starbucks. Unless you’ve spotted one of the few females following this fashion, it’s likely that losely attached to the beard is the tweed cap, the tastiest Northern import since Staffordshire Oatcakes (more on them at a later date). I looked for a ‘newsboy’ in New York ten years ago. Hoping to find one styled in the 70’s, seen in portraits of Coppola or Paul Simon, I had no luck. I had to wait eight years, then I spotted a great hat shop online http://www.hatshopping.com/. This German shop even have a hat of the week, it’s the ‘Hervester’ straw trilby today, it must be high summer in Munster. They’re efficient and have a huge range, including the Stetson brand, a favorite, almost collectable if I had the cash. The ‘Hateras’ is reliable, not too wide and floppy but not too lawn green bowling ‘Kangol Tropic Ventair’ either. The cap has really seen a surge this year, the rotten weather has helped and there are a few shops like American Classics, 20 Endell Street now selling good brands. Other hats don’t seem to get much of a look in, other than the beanie, the ultimate bad hair day hat. Will this trend last? I doubt as long as the coffee shop explosion.

A great cuppa at 26 Rathbone Place

I can’t be alone in pondering when the momentum of the new coffee revolution will ever slow? The first proper coffee shop apparently opened in about 1652 by a Greek / Armenian. Then it was brewed over a hot wood fire, nowadays you’re likely to find a once bronzed Antipodean tamping away at a La Marzocca Strada, a Synesso Hydra or even a Kees van der Western. Rosee, the original coffee shop, advertised coffee as having medicinal qualities. Doubt if that’s a reason many drink it now, so why are we? I think we’ve learn’t how to appreciate good coffee, it’s created the demand. But we should look back, as I think the recent explosion started in the early 90s when so many wanted to join Jennifer and co for a chat and a pout in a NY style shop. Starbucks followed us home with our discount Gap Ts, but we actually dreamt of Dean & Delucca’s thick rimmed mugs, not cardboard cups. Enough came home yearning to sit on sofas and drink huge overpriced mugs of milky liquid to make Starbucks think there’s money to be made in the UK. But I think this new wave of coffee drinking is in part due to a quiet backlash against those huge comedy menus. After an insipid American style ‘beverage’ the New World version is a very different animal, wilder, deep, dark and with a real caffeine kick to boot. Now we choose from a few well chosen ethical blends and styles, based on strength and taste not just huge or massive. I’d rebel in the most pathetic attempt to overthrow the system and ask for a medium coffee, rather than grande or vente which sound more like something connected to the automotive world, than a coffee cup. We have to thank the boys and girls from Aukland and Sydney for bringing what they learnt on their travels to our little streets.

Grinders old and new at 26 Rathbone Place

There are some quaint similarities with the 17C. Then they were frequented by people looking for ‘enlightenment, good fellowship and intellectual conversation.’ Now it may be through Twitter or Linkedin, but we still like the sociability of sitting with others who are also working away from home, or not. People seem to crave the silent colleague, not chatterboxes (take note). Most sit behind a gently glowing apple, many wear unsociable and bulbous headphones. We don’t go to avoid foul drinking water as then, but to join others, share with them in the enjoyment of some of the best coffee you can buy. I’ve witnessed some real nerdiness, bearded college leavers, timing the brew and making iPad apps to calculate the best times, that’s nerdy. It does mean that the quality is now ridiculously high. These obsessions, like adjusting the brew pressure and temperature during the coffee drippage (?) helps toward this being a golden age for London’s coffee drinkers. I bought a decent one in Honiton Devon www.bostonteaparty.co.uk/cafe/honiton recently. It’s still surprising how the likes of Square Mile and Tamped & Packed roasters have stayed within the M25, hopefully this desire will surly spread from the city, not unlike the pestilence of the 17C .

Beautiful Simonelli machine at 26

It’s an easy list, so I might as well add it. Places I’ve supped at while reading the news, in order of mls of caffeine consumed. Monmouth in Monmouth Street, Covent Garden or the popular Borough which is best when not so on a Thursday http://www.monmouthcoffee.co.uk/. Shoreditch Grind, Old Street, the round building on a roundabout, great for round people watching. Tapped & Packed at 26 Rathbone Place and 114 Tottenham Court Rd, still the best? http://www.tappedandpacked.co.uk/. Nude in Spitalfields, sit next to the magnificent Turkish roaster and breath in, situated in a car park off Brick Lane. Notes in the West End, next to the ENO St Martin’s Lane where you can buy some classical CDs and watch an obscure 70s German film while supping, unique, also at Wellington St http://notesmusiccoffee.com/. Ca Phe Vn Broadway Market, watch it here, the chairs are for little tiny people and standing up after this amount of caffeine can cause severe giddyness. Giddy Up coffee cart in Fortune Street Pk, a cap with a take away Thai curry from one of the nearby vans in Whitecross Street nr Barbican, is a perfect way to lunch in the sun. Princi’s in Wardour Street, must be the best pastry shop and serve an authentic Italian lunch in modern Milan style cafe. The Towpath cafe, 42 De Beauvoir Cres is my local, right on the canal, a brilliant place with the best toast & homemade jam which seems to be featured in the Sundays every week. Careful of the cyclists as they zip past, enjoy the company and the occasional swimming dog. The new kid on the blog is Ozone Roasters 11 Leonard St, near Old Street roundabout. Not only is the coffee superb, mine had a nice chocolaty nutty tone and they also unusually have a good selection of hot grub too. http://www.ozonecoffee.co.uk/blog The loud drone of the 1975 roaster from the basement adds a touch of coffee class to this joint, which has an older sister in New Plymouth NZ. I’m hoping I can join a tasting evening sometime, they call it a ‘cupping class’, but I’m sure it’ll be fun and informative.

Another cup please, paper roll supplied by
Stuart R Stevenson Clerkenwell Rd