If Robert Jenrick doesn’t act now, the Whitechapel Bell Foundry will be lost for good
A priceless piece of our heritage is on the brink of being turned into a hotel. Why won’t our public institutions protect it?
The bell tolls: the Jubilee memorial bells being forged at the Whitechapel Bell Foundry
Credit: Martin Pope
The Whitechapel Bell Foundry is a crucial part of our history – as important to America as it is to Britain. It was here that the Liberty Bell was cast, as well as Big Ben. The foundry has existed since 1570 (and in its Whitechapel Road premises since 1744) and, as well as those two notable bells, has been in demand by the nation’s churches – Westminster Abbey, St Paul’s, Guildford and Canterbury.
Words by John Jervis
For better or worse, the visual arts haven’t featured large in Britain’s national mythologies of late. Yet, in September 2018, Theresa May launched what is now known as Festival UK 2022, proclaiming: ‘Just as millions of Britons celebrated their nation’s great achievements in 1951, we want to showcase what makes our country great today.’ This ‘Festival of Brexit’ was met with scorn, hilarity and anger among artistic communities – followed, last year, by infighting and accusations of hypocrisy as groups from Assemble to the White Pube accepted the government’s shilling.
So far, so normal. More interesting is that May chose to leverage popular affection for the Festival of Britain in her flawed attempt to heal the wounds of Brexit. Why, 70 years on, does this one cultural event – first proposed in 1943 as a commemorative rehash of the Great Exhibition (with a not-dissimilar mix of industry and imperialism) – endure in the national imaginati
For all those interested in the relationship between ideas and the built environment, John Onians provides a lively illustrated account of the range of meanings that Western culture has assigned to the Classical orders. Onians shows that during the 2,000 years from their first appearance in ancient Greece through their codification in Renaissance Italy, the orders the columns and capitals known as Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, Tuscan, and Composite were made to serve expressive purposes, engaging the viewer in a continuing visual dialogue. synopsis may belong to another edition of this title.
Review: There is a great deal of original thought in this book. It covers a vast period of time with an enviable command of scholarship and unfaltering self-possession. It . . . sees the light when the Classical orders are once again . . . spoken of with curiosity and respect and when Classical fundamentals are being sought as a refuge from the disordered philosophies of the recent past.
Source: National Gallery
The National Gallery viewed from Trafalgar Square
The National Gallery’s announcement of an open competition for an architect-led team to design a £30m project is a rare burst of sunshine in this long winter of covid. The chance to get your hands on two of the country’s most important buildings is a mouthwatering opportunity.
When the news broke after a midnight embargo there were excited emails between engineers and architects saying, “Have you seen this?” You can almost hear the sharpening of pencils, although organiser Malcolm Reading tells us no design work is required. There won’t be too many architectural competitions of this size from cultural institutions in the foreseeable future.