Sign Hunting in Stoke Newington part 2

Welcome to part two of my wanderings around Stoke Newington. During part one, I headed up and down the high street in search of interesting typography and wasn't disappointed. After a quick trip to the pub, I set out for Church Street, a road renowned as the epicentre of ghost sign activity in Stokey.

It wasn't long before I spotted my first sign on the corner of Fleetwood Street. Revealed during the removal of a billboard, the full text once read 'Hurstleigh's Bakery, Daren, Brown Bread. According to Spitalfields Life, Daren was the name of a flour mill based on the banks of the river Darent in Kent. 

What little is visible of the type looks impressive, all slab serifs and chunky drop shadows - a real sign writers dream. It's a shame there doesn't seem to be a record of the whole thing!

Over the road on the corner of Lancell Street I spied a long, thin ghost sign on a chamfered corner wall. Though almost unreadable, it didn't stop me staring for five minutes trying to decipher it. The only words I can guess are 'Agents for' about half way down but sadly the rest remains a mystery.

Heading further up Church street, I stumbled across what are possibly the most famous set of ghost signs in London. The first was this striking palimpsest advertising no less than three products: Gillette Razors, the Westminster Gazette and Criterion Matches.

Along with Hovis (they of bread fame) Gillette were one of the first brands to fully realise the potential of painted adverts as a promotional medium and as such many examples of their signs can be found around London, painted in characteristic white and yellow on a bright blue background. At some point, the other two companies must have bought the rights to use the space and painted over the older signs. Time though, the great leveller, has seen fit to even them all out and the result is a spectacular collection of lettering styles, each marking different layers of history. Fantastic!

On the front of the same building I came across what is quite possibly London's most famous (and certainly one of its most charming) ghost signs. This is the sign that originally inspired the founder of GhostSigns, Sam Roberts, to start documenting these old adverts all the way back in 2006.

Roberts is a bit of a legendary figure among ghost sign enthusiasts, being one of the first people of the Internet age to start documenting London's ghost signs. Since then he has been involved in huge amounts of sign conservation work, written books on the subject and regularly gives guided ghost sign tours around London. All in all, an inspiring character and long may his good work continue. Be sure to check out his website at ghostsigns.co.uk

Anyway, back to the sign itself. The former occupants of the building appear to have been a company called Walker Bros, who specialised in the repair of fountain pens, particularly those of Watermans, a company who are still in the pen-making business today. In today's technological world it's difficult to imagine a time when you'd actually take your fountain pen to a shop to be repaired but evidently many people did.

The sign has got huge amounts of character, being painted in a shape that aims to make the best use of the available space. The long thin panel looks to have been repainted at some point, as behind the slightly crude looking 'Fount Pens Repaired' lettering it is possible to make out hints of some chunky, serifed lettering that has more in common with the rest of the sign.

The Watermans panel features a lovely lock up of title case lettering, in what looks like a flared serif style with a heavy drop shadow. The arched Watermans type is a nice touch too. Above this, the Walker Bros panel is inset on a beautifully drawn piece of notepaper with a fountain pen laid across for good measure. What more you you ask for?

Further up Church Street a blink-and-you'll-miss-it ghost sign clings on above Hazel Alterations on Marton Road. Though heavily faded and encircled by graffiti, it clearly advertises the services of Crane House Decorator in solid grotesque lettering.

After being spoiled by all the ghost signs I almost missed this nearby stained glass fanlight above the entrance to Rignold Mansions. It's always nice to see lettering incorporated into stained glass, especially when it takes on a stencil effect like it has here. Could this be the work of our old friends Cakebread, Robey & Co, Stoke Newington's favourite local stained glass suppliers? I'd like to think so.

Walking back down Church Street I managed to resist the temptations of the Daniel Defoe pub, but couldn't resist snapping its former name, The Clarence Tavern, carved into the top of the building in an engraver's Gothic style of lettering.

According to History of Stokey, the Clarence Tavern was built in 1860 and is the oldest pub building on Church Street. Over the years it has undergone numerous name changes including The Salmon and Trout and Steptoes. It was finally renamed the Daniel Defoe in 1999, in honour of the author who once lived nearby.

Further on I spotted another sign that had eluded me on the way up, this time belonging to A Rubenstein & Sons, aka 'Alf the Purse King', a purveyor of purses, pouches, handbags and wallets. By all accounts a charismatic fellow, Alf can be seen in his prime here courtesy of History of Stokey.

Painted in a combination of black, white and red, this sign would have been quite striking its day. Unfortunately you have to look closely to read the type now, but what can be seen looks to be a mixture of condensed and regular sans serif lettering styles. Alf the Purse King may be long gone but his spirit certainly lives on in Church Street.

Back in the direction of the station, on the corner of Cazenove Road a large furniture store occupies what was once a pub known as the Weavers Arms. The only clue to the pubs existence is some rather neglected lettering carved into the top of the facade of the building's side. I've not been able to find out too much about the Weavers, other than that it looks to have been opened sometime in the mid-19th century. Some rather fantastic views of the pub in it's glory days can be seen here and here, again courtesy of History of Stokey.

On the opposite side of Cazenove Road a fading shopfront caught my eye. Madame Lillie's was a once a corsetiere's shop, though very little information about it can be found online. The building was most recently home to an art gallery, though at the time of my visit it looked to be empty once again.

The faded sans serif lettering of the sign is in an advanced state of disrepair, though deep drop shadows are still visible on the individual characters.

Looking back down Cazenove road presented yet another ghost sign (see what I mean about Stoke Newington?) Bearing the just about readable legend 'Good judges drink John Brown Whiskies', the advert has suffered plenty of fading but hints of blue, white and red can still be made out. The lettering has been painted in a mixture of flowing script (think the old Wall's ice cream logo) and a blocky grotesque style. The only thing missing is a nice hand painted whisky bottle!

As an interesting footnote, this sign was recently under threat from the owner of the building but thankfully our old friend Sam Roberts stepped in to save the day. Read all about his adventure here!

 

Just when I thought Cazenove Road had given up all of its secrets I found one more sign hiding in a shady corner. Although difficult to make out in the above image, the sign reads 'F.Cooper, Job Master for Wedding Carriages, Broughams, Landaus, Cabs'.

The lettering looks to have been painted in a fairly standard grotesque style, however the use of key lines holding the word 'and' as well as arched and angled text forms a varied and eye catching layout.

 

Last but not least, I headed off Cazenove Road in the direction of the station. Although it had already been a more fruitful day than I could have imagined, Stokey provided one last ghost sign to add to my list. Despite only a strip remaining, it is possible to make out the words '6 tables' and 'embossers', as well as some hints of an older sign that has been painted over.  Not the most spectacular sign of the day, but definitely one worth documenting.

So with that I jumped back on the Overground and headed home. As I've hopefully shown from these photos, Stoke Newington is one of the best places you can go if you're looking for ghost signs. Moreover, as an authentic taste of the old East End, it really does take some beating.

See you next time Stokey!

Sign Hunting in Stoke Newington part 1

Stoke Newington or 'Stokey' to the locals is a district in the London Borough of Hackney. The area has been settled since medieval times, when it was a small village a few miles from London used mainly as a stop for travellers heading north. Nowadays it is well and truly a part of the city, though it is renowned for retaining some of its village character with a large array of open spaces and a bustling town centre.

Over the last century Stokey has seen its fair share of action, from being heavily bombed during World War Two through to significant urban regeneration in the last twenty years. Nowadays it plays home to a diverse and vibrant community as well as some of the most famous ghost signs in London. With the latter in mind, I headed over on a grey Saturday morning with my camera at the ready.

After arriving at Stoke Newington overground station I headed left and up the high street. It wasn't long before the first find of the day presented itself, a peeling ghost sign tucked away on the side of a light industrial building. As the sign says, this was the former home of Elloma Preparations Limited, who according to Companies House were a firm active from 1947 until 1996. Exactly what they were preparing remains a mystery. 

Due to its length it was difficult to fit the sign into one shot, at least for an amateur like me. From what i've managed to capture the lettering looks to have been painted in a bold grotesque typeface, though most of the details have suffered significant fading over the years.

Continuing up the high street it quickly became apparent why the area is so renowned by ghost sign hunters with the appearance of a lovely example for John Hawkin & Sons, a Lancashire cotton spinning firm. The company had quite a few locations in London and if you want to know more about them, I highly recommend the London Road Croydon blog's excellent article here.

The type is a mixture of a playful, upright script with a very lovely ampersand and some clean sans-serif faces for good measure. Most of it is still readable and you can just make out the remnants of an earlier sign coming through here and there.

On the other side of the street, a building on the corner of Tyssen Road features an enormous sign belonging to the firm of Cakebread Robey & Co, providers of a rather extensive range of hardware services.  Famed for their stained glass in particular, numerous examples of the company's work can reportedly still be found in pubs and churches around the South East.

A striking combination of white and red, the sign itself is an example of a palimpsest, a term which in this case means a sign painted on top of an older one. The lettering isn't especially decorative but the overall layout and the use of different sized panels gives it plenty of character. Anyway, who needs fancy serifs and swashes when you've got a massive bleedin' wall?

Further up the high street this rather striking blue clock hangs on above the pavement, a remnant from a time when advertising your business with a giant public timepiece was the done thing. Sadly, the name of the firm responsible has disappeared, leaving us with only the word 'wholesalers' and a clock face frozen at twenty-five past five.

The lettering is a light condensed sans serif with a touch of art deco style, arranged on a curve. If you half close your eyes, the whole thing looks a bit like a cyclops sporting a big toothy grin. Or maybe it's just past my bedtime.

Next up is the former home of the Vogue cinema, which still retains its original 1940's signage on a chamfered wall. According to Cinema Treasures excellent article, the venue opened as the Majestic in 1920 before being renamed Vogue in the forties. In 1958 it was closed, and lay derelict for 42 years before being refurbished as a restaurant and flats at the turn of the millennium. During this period of disuse it was thought to be the longest closed cinema building in London. I can only imagine how exciting it would have been to get inside and photograph it during this time.

The lettering is in a stylish sans serif that is similar to Futura, judging by the very specific G. However, the lower crossbar on the E suggest that it may have had some customisation. Either way it's a great piece of history and kudos is due to the owner for preserving it.

After crossing the road and starting to head back this charming hand-painted sign caught my eye. The delicate italic lettering features high contrast thicks and thins as well as flowing, soft serifs that enhance the polite authority of the message. If I'd had my bike with me, I would have been walking by now.

On nearby Victorian Road I came upon the grand gateway to Coronation Avenue, crowned with some fantastic ornamental lettering. Featuring a flamboyant kick descending from the uppercase A and extended serifs on the N's, this is a typically Victorian style and one that I never tire of.

Although a peaceful looking gated community today, Coronation Avenue has known its share of tragedy, being directly hit by a bomb in World War Two that killed as many as 170 people. A harrowing first hand account of that fateful night can be found here, and serves as a stark reminder of dark times in the not too distant past.

Continuing back down the high street, I spied this almost unreadable ghost sign high on the side of a building. Painted in a purpose built decorative panel, there's not much that can be said about the type but according to the Spitalfields Life's excellent article, it is an advert for Richardson & Sons Shirtmakers of Hackney, Leyton and Walthamstow, painted around 1955.

Nearby, the Rochester Castle pub provided the first mosaic of the day. The colour scheme of brown and gold is a good match for the fittings of the pub and the lightly serifed type has some great decorative touches including a double crossbar on the A and extended tails on the R's.

According to owners J D Wetherspoon, the pub itself was built in 1801 by Richard Payne, who was originally from Rochester. Prior to that, the site was home to another inn called the Green Dragon which had occupied the space since at least 1702. The Rochester is also noteworthy for being the longest held premises in the company's portfolio, being purchased by the chain as far back as 1983.

Across the road, a Georgian style building set back from the street features a very faint ghost sign for the original owners: none other than Marks & Spencer, the famous department store. Now home to a branch of Sports Direct, the fortunes of this building seem to have declined slightly since its construction in the 1930's, however its well preserved exterior lends a touch of faded glamour to the street.

As it was getting on for lunchtime the Three Crowns pub was next to catch my eye with its beautifully elaborate side entrance, painted in an regal combination of blue and gold. The decorative carving features the pub name written in some tightly spaced lettering that's not too flashy, but boasts elegant flared serifs and a satisfying curved crossbar on the N.

The side entrance is also home to some fantastic ironwork featuring the words 'Saloon Lounge' picked out in a neat gold script. I love the way the type and ornaments intertwine here and the angled lines are a great touch. The only thing that lets it down is the dodgy kerning between the L and the O that you could drive a truck through. My inner designer screams in terror, while the realist in me reckons that I ought to get out more.

At this point I nipped through this wonderful doorway and into the pub, so it seems like a good place to finish part one. If you made it this far, thanks for reading and look out for part two coming next week. Cheers!

Passing Through Putney

A couple of Sundays ago we took a trip to Putney hoping for some fresh air to kill off a pair of nasty hangovers. To say we suceeded was an understatement as the air was more than fresh; it was absolutely freezing and all the new Christmas scarves in the world were no match for the icy blast that came careering up the Thames.

Fortunately, I managed to keep enough feeling in my fingers to photograph some of the typographic highlights that appeared along the way.

After parking by the river near the Star and Garter pub, we passed University Mansions, a large residential development with an impressive doorway featuring some great type. The raised black lettering (above) sits atop the door in a suitably grand fashion, while on either side (see below) an elegant inscription indicates the year of construction. 

I'm a big fan of the Art Nouveau flick on the A, and the way the date is locked up is quite bizarre. Is this ornament for ornaments sake or the carver leaving his mark? Who can say but either way it's rather eyecatching and was a good first find of the day.

Before leaving University Mansions I have to mention the decorative typeface used on the floor of the entrance (I did say this was a good doorway) where just about every character has a satisfying quirk of some sort. Look at that N! The E! The leg of the R and the cross bar of the A! This is a beautiful display alphabet that deserves better than being walked on all day.

Continuing along in the direction of the High Street another grand block of flats presented itself. According to Wikipedia, Kenilworth Court was built at the turn of the century and has had a number of notable residents over the years, including Fred Russell, the founder of modern ventriloquism.

This marker above the doorway continues the impressive raised lettering theme of University Mansions, but this time with the addition of some big drop-caps for good measure. The CO lock up on the word 'Court' is fantastic and bring bags of character, while the open O's, the flared leg of the R and the cross bar of the H add touches of Edwardian style.

But wait, that's not all! Not to be outdone, Kenilworth Court also boasts this magnificent wrought ironwork sign above the entrance to the car park. Slightly different in style to the type above the door (the concept of branding was in its infancy in those days) this type features more R's with flared legs and a K that wants to kick the E into next week. Again, loads of character and lets face it, who wouldn't want to drive out under this every day?

Walking down Putney High Street, my manic scouring of doorways, pavements and corners of buildings was eventually rewarded with this floor mosaic located in the doorway of trendy Fullers bar, The Swift. With its heavy wear and seventies colour scheme I assumed the mosaic would be quite old though according to the Camra South West London branch, the pub was converted from a bank in 1995 and named P Shannon & Sons, before becoming The Whistle & Flute in 2000 and The Swift in 2013. I'm guessing the mosaic is from the P Shannon days, making it a fairly modern example of a doorway mosaic and the first that I've seen to feature the logo of a particular brand, rather than the name of the premises itself.

Further down the high Street, this commermorative plaque sits high on the side of the Salisbury Pavement Buildings. It's unclear why the word 'pavement' would be used but Salisbury refers to Lord Salisbury, the British Prime Minister at the time. Busts of Salisbury and Disraeli are also visible above the shopfronts. This shows how differently the political figures of the day were percieved in the late 1800's - you certainly wouldn't expect to find busts of David Cameron & Co on a building today!

After walking to the end of the high street we eventually came upon the Putney School of Art building and this impressive sign overlooking the railway. Although the school was founded in 1883, my guess is that this sign is from a much later date as there's barely a scratch on it. The lettering appears to be hand painted and is quite striking from a distance, but then you'd expect an art school sign to be wouldnt you?

Located above the school's main doorway, this particular piece of lettering deserves a mention if only for the curved crossbar on the A.

The same can also be said for this plaque near the top of the building which features some beautiful decorative figures, including a flat topped number 8 which seems to have been a popular style at the time. I always find it interesting that date plaques used to be such a common feature on all kinds of buildings, yet they are rarely seen on new architecture. Perhaps it's considered to be showing off, but it seems a shame that this tradition isn't carried on.

After looping round and heading back towards the high street this painted piano lettering jumped out at me from a charity shop window. It appears to be an Edwardian script, with flowery capitals and cursive lowercase characters. The slight angle and bold underline give it a confident and dynamic air, while 'London' printed in a flared serif below provides grounding and balance.

The little information I've been able to uncover about WH Barnes on Piano Shop indicates that they were active in London between 1828 and 1937, and mostly produced affordable pianos that were very popular and can still be commonly found today. 

Walking back towards the river this strange ornamental iron gate grabbed my attention. The type isn't particularly stunning but the phrase "Think and Thank" is quite memorable. It transpires that this is the home of the Winchester House Club, a private gentleman's establishment and the motto gives thanks to members of the club who have served with the armed forces. According to Dale Carnegie, "Think and Thank" is a common inscription within many of England's Cromwellian churches and refers to giving thanks to God. You learn something new every day!

Further along Lower Richmond Road the first ghost sign of the day presented itself. Half hidden behind a metal plaque the sign appears to read "...AIN ...TAKER".

I enquired with the buildings current owners The Clock Clinic as to the past occupants. They were able to confirm that the building was an Undertaker's premises until the early seventies, and that the basement served as an air raid shelter during WW2. Unfortunately, they couldn't tell me the name of the business and a subsquent trawl of the digitised London Trade directory archives hasn't revealed anything either. Sadly it looks as though this will remain a mystery for some time to come!

Also on Lower Richmond Road, our final find was this heavily faded ghost sign on the corner with Ruvigny Gardens. Sadly, most of the type is now unreadable though I can just about make out "...and Sons, Everything Woodwork" which at least tells us a bit about the nature of the business, if not the company name. Once again I've scoured old directories for further information but have had no luck in uncovering anything. Note for next time: need to work on my research skills!

I imagine this sign would have been quite striking in its day. The bold white type and heavy black drop shadow would have provided visibility for some distance down Lower Richmond Road. It's left me quite intrigued so hopefully further investigation will turn up some more information. As always, if anyone reading this has any recollection of this or any of the other sites mentioned please do get in touch as I'd love to hear from you.

Right, that's enough fresh Putney air for one day. Bring on summer for another visit and some riverside beers. Cheers!

A Stroll Around Soho part 1

I first visited London at the tender age of 17. Coming from the Scottish Highlands this was my first taste of the big city and a trip to Soho was high on my list of priorities. If music magazines had taught me anything, it was that Soho was a booze and sex filled wonderland where famous rock stars roamed the streets and classic albums were being recorded in the basement of every building. It's fair to say that I was quite excited and typography couldn't have been further from my mind.

Fast forward quite a few years and I'm living in London, my hair is a whole foot shorter and the most famous person I've spotted is the bloke who won Masterchef in 2007. Despite all that I still love a good wander round Soho so last weekend my better half and I ventured in with cameras at the ready and typography on our brains (okay, the typography part might just have been me).

We got off the tube at Oxford Street and headed towards Soho via Great Marlborough Street where the ultra condensed typeface of this street sign caught my eye. I'm not sure when signs in this style were produced but I'm a big fan of the angled terminals on the G and S that give it a slightly gothic feel. The small dot below the T in the abbreviated 'Street' is another satisfying touch of detail.

Further down Marlborough Street this intriguing window caught my eye. Above it you can see Queen Victoria in profile with the words by 'Diamond Reign' written in a curvy, decorative font. It turns out this was once the site of the Diamond Reign pub, which according to Pubology traded between 1895 and 1910. The site is now home to two shops called Barbour and Cowshed.

Around the corner we came onto Marshall Street and were immediately drawn by this impressive piece of decorative type marking the entrance to the City of Westminster Dwellings. This residential building features the Westminster portcullis symbol in several places, hinting at the importance the occupants must have once had.

Just opposite Westminster Dwellings I spotted one of my favourite ground-based items: a decorative coalhole. Once common outside most homes in London, these metal disks would be lifted to allow delivery of coal direct to the coal cellar of the house. The sheer variety of designs produced by the different foundries around the country make these really interesting items to watch out for, and this one is a particularly good example featuring a nice combination of decorative elements and type.

Next stop on the way into Soho proper was the John Snow, a pub named after Dr John Snow, the celebrated physician and founder of epidemiology who famously discovered that cholera could be transmitted through water. This decorative etched window features some great type, particularly the bar of the G which flicks satisfyingly upwards.

Heading into the heart of Soho the next thing to catch my eye was this ghost sign for Lex's Garage on the corner of Silver Place. I do love a good ghost sign and the type on this one doesn't disappoint, boasting some flared serifs with loads of character. Following Ingestre Place round past the former Pulteney School we came across the garage proper, a grade 2 listed building built on the site of the former Ayres brewery in 1929. The garage was designed as a place for the wealthy car owners of the day to leave their vehicles as parking on the street was banned. According to The Soho Clarion (issue 148) the garage provided separate changing rooms for chauffeurs and ladies and is still in use today for parking and the occasional film shoot.

Onwards to Wardour Street and we found this mosaic outside The O Bar. This is a fairly modern example of a doorway mosaic, the bar itself having been a pub known as The Round House at least until the late sixties. The sharp, latin-style serifs on the type give the characters a slightly crude, industrial feel which I quite like.

This mosaic further down the street is a much older example, though I've not been able to trace it and I'm not even sure what it says. Deaber? Deabea? One for the list of mysteries I need to solve. Type wise it's fairly plain, though I couldn't walk past without taking a picture.

Update: It turns out this actually says 'Derber', which was the name of a shoe shop that was based here until sometime in eighties, the store now being an Anne Summers. Massive thanks to Defero Mundus for the tip off!

Speaking of mysteries, this chemist sign high on a building next to St Annes Churchyard has also proved quite difficult to trace. The building doesn't seem to be a chemists shop anymore though if anyone happens to know what it was called when it was, I'd be grateful for the information. As for the sign itself, it looks to be painted though it's in pretty good condition. It stands out a mile too!

Off to the side of Comptons, the well known Soho pub, I spotted this crumbling decorative plaque. Looking a little bit lost next to the proud signage of the pub, it notes the architects of the building, W.A. Williams and Hopton of Regent Street. According to Wikipedia, Comptons was originally built in 1890 as the Swiss Hotel. After having its top two floors demolished following a bombing raid in 1941, the building was renamed the Swiss Tavern until 1986 when it became Comptons. The type on the plaque features a flat topped ampersand, a characteristic popular with engravers of the time. A really close inspection also reveals the word 'Architects' in a beautiful italic script underneath. Well worth zooming in for!

The next find was another great piece of type on a building in Wardour Street (I forget which one). Looking closely it's a mosaic that's been finished in gold and looks to have been pretty well cared for considering that it's almost 200 years old. Some nice quirks here - the flat topped number eight and the lock up of the A and D at either side of the date had me reaching for the zoom button straight away.

Speaking of mosaics, I was blown away to find this one outside the restaurant Quo Vadis. Sadly I couldn't get a good enough view with one shot but wow, a blackletter mosaic! This was the first time I'd seen one of these and the angular lettering style lends itself well to the mosaic medium. I particularly like the top of the ascender on the lowercase d and the strike-through on the s - little details that really show off the skill involved in mosaic making. Shame about all the chairs though.

While on the subject of restaurants, next to St Moritz on Wardour Street an open door revealed this decorative floor with 'Maison Philip Ltd' written in a lovely, fluid script. I had to rush over and move the rubbish bags to get this photo just in case I didn't get another chance. It's just a shame I couldn't get the whole thing in! I've not been able to find out who or what Maison Philip Ltd was, but as the restaurant has occupied the building since 1974 it looks like they haven't been there for a while.

The final spot of the morning was this beautifully coloured doorway mosaic at the side entrance to The George, a recently restored pub dating back to 1727 and now run by Shepherd Neame. I love finding these old mosaics; they speak of some serious dedication to fine details and I imagine it would have looked pretty impressive when new. Worn and dirty as it is now it's still got loads of character, with a simple yet elegant sans serif typeface and a nicely detailed border. So inviting in fact, that we crossed the threshold and nipped in for a much needed pint.

See you in part two!