Looking out of my window this morning, I saw the white tagging on the black utility box opposite being swiftly painted over by some Hackney workers. They posted a notice on the box, no doubt discouraging any future painting. As if they could really.
Eliminating street art
Not all street art is skilled. I’m particularly not fond of the lettering graffiti or so-called tagging, which is just scrawled writing, often on top of other nicer art. I used to like Banksy, but got bored of the political statements and sameness, although he still produces some nice images. In fact, I’ve had favourites that fall from the top of my list as my tastes change or I get weary of the consistent style.
Down in Penge, there’s a street art group that nurtures and organises street art in South-East London. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in East London, which strikes me as odd when so there’s so much here.
If you’re a fan, you’ll find a lot in Penge and Annerly, Camden, Croydon, Shoreditch and thereabouts. Hackney Wick has always been plastered with art, but this is changing as the new luxury flats and corporate offices are appearing. (Time to go back and see how that’s coming along.) Hackney Central and Dalston aren’t really on the list. I find it, of course – this is London – but there’s not a lot of note. Perhaps if someone produced something splendid on that black box there’d be less hurry to paint it over…
Walking down Brick Lane a few weeks ago, I decided to photograph some of the lesser known, not as attractive stuff. I wonder how long it would take to cover the length of Brick Lane on both sides, taking in the streets that intersect it… Even when it’s untidy or unskilled, or just consists of ‘paste-ups,’ the colour and chaos lifts my mood and intrigues me. Some of it has been there for so many years that I no longer know what came first and what might have popped up recently. The chaos of it creates equal chaos in my brain – how can I remember it all when it’s like a giant memory game. In fact, if anything here is posted twice, it won’t surprise me.
I’m putting this next one last so I can explain: it’s a Dan Kitchener art piece that’s been tagged over and over. Now, Dan often includes some tagging in his own art, a sort of tongue-in-cheek nod to the practice. The original art is now pretty much hidden, but look at the droplets of water he created. I’m glad they’re still there. He’s famous for rain soaked, multi-reflective and muted work and this is a great reminder of that.
Not actual street art but the instantly recognisable Doc Martens soles – clever pavement artOakley street art inspired pavement stencil. Increasingly, corporations are taking note and these days you’re likely to see corporate-sponsored art by known street artists on the walls around town. Maybe it’s a slippery slope…On Brick Lane, many shops have art over the whole facade, sometimes only the doors. This one has decorated the outside, inspired by everything around it
On the weekend, I went on a walk called Global Dalston. I learned something about Dalston’s multiethnic roots. I’ll blog about that another time.
The one nice Dalston mural in Gillet Square is obscured by hoarding as they regenerate. I hope it’s left intactOn Kingsland Road, I wasn’t sure if this was street art or painted by the business, or sponsored by them. No signature
Sometimes I take people on a walk and it always includes street art. Occasionally, I pick up cues that the person with me has zero interest in what I’ve shown them. That’s OK. It’s not for everyone. I have friends who think street art is nothing but vandalism. I have friends who favour street artists I don’t care for. It’s nice when a disinterested person walking with me is tempted to take out their phone and capture the art for themselves. When I think about taste in art, my mum comes to mind. She was an accomplished artist who showed talent from a young age, but whose art career was cut short by WW2 and then marriage. She was repulsed by black velvet paintings and said so at every sighting – ‘They have terrible taste.’ One day I couldn’t resist – ‘You know, mum, thousands of people love them. Maybe it’s your taste that’s off.’ It was naughty of me and earned me a sideways glare, but there it is.
I’ve always liked dereliction and chaos, unattracted by tidiness and order. I put it down to my childhood, growing up in what people called the slums and I called home, playing in the bomb-damaged streets, and my earliest memories of London as a crumbling, sooty, rundown city that I somehow loved. Maybe I’m right about where this love came from and maybe I’m not. No point in making excuses. I see no merit in Picasso. Taste is taste.
This morning I went to a pop up arts and crafts show in Dalston. ( I bought nothing but enjoyed the outing, and it gave me a chance to take a few photos to add to those I’d been saving for this blog.)
I’ve been feeling deflated recently. Too many apocalyptic thoughts. Sitting here waiting for the infections to rise and the death toll to start climbing, how else can anyone feel? Well, many don’t feel that way at all, so I’m told.
It’s easy to feel sorry for myself and my lethargy was getting me down. Going out helps me think about something else and it also helps me gain perspective.
Overall I’m an optimist. Although I’ll confess to being vastly disappointed and dissatisfied about the many things that others find great joy in, hope is always top or nearly top of my mind. I have great hope for many, many things. So think ‘silver lining,’ ‘counting my blessings,’ ‘it could be worse,’ ‘it will all work out in the end,’ and so on, and you have me in an optimistic nutshell.
I could be living in this makeshift shelter but I’m notAll of these shuttered shops could be out of business but they’re notI’m in a minority group, I’m a woman and I’ve faced adversity, but basically I’m hugely privileged – a white first-world childAnd even the wait or the first bus is shorter than many have to endure and gives me time to chat to a friend online, or whatever I choose to do, in a safe environment
It’s just three stops up to Dalston Junction – not far. It gives me a chance to look at the big picture and reflect on the back streets we walked on a few weeks ago. Dalston’s main streets at this point are Dalston Lane and Kingsland Road (Kingsland High Street).
Kingsland Road was part of the Roman route north named Ermine Street and was the Great North Road or Ware Road. In the early 1700s it was a toll road. Back then East of Kingsland Road was clay pits, brickfields, market gardens and nurseries. To the west it was arable land and dairy farms Despite being impoverished as the century went on, its proximity to the City made it popular , and by 1800 houses had gone up one by one along most of Kingsland Road, through Hoxton and Haggerston, towards the small hamlet of Dalston. Not so small anymore.
Today it’s a very busy high street and, since we moved into the area, it’s become trendy even before the regeneration started. What struck me today was how mixed the architecture and state of housing was in this area. When the ‘luxury flats’ sprang up, we’d often wonder who the tenants were that were happy to pay huge sums of money, and to look down on what’s sometimes squalid and wait for better times ahead.
The name Dalston is thought to come from Deorlaf’s tun (farm), in much the same way as nearby Hoxton was named after the farm of ‘Hoch’. The village was one of four small villages within the Parish of Hackney (along with Newington, Shacklewell, and Kingsland) together having only as many houses as the village of Hackney. Around 1280 a leper hospital was founded here but by the 18th and 19th Centuries the area had changed from being agricultural and rural to urban. By 1849, it was considered suburban, with some handsome old houses. By 1859 the railways came in and the village disappeared.
This corner where Kingsland Road meets Dalston Lane is original but Sheer Bliss, a hair salon which has been there for a long time, has recently had a facelift. It’s competing with some very modern shops and salons now. I can’t read the engraving on the corner but the building is Edwardian and may have been a cinema and then a bankStanding on Kingsland Road, my back to Dalston Junction station and facing Dalston Kingsland Station, the contrast is starkAnd from the back streets, the contrast is even more markedThe modern Dalston bus station, the back of the flats at Dalston Square, and the hanger-on Kingsland Road houses. Comfy together
Time to move off the main road, over behind the Kingsland Road and Dalston Lane junction.
Arcola Theatre, the old Reeves building
Beyond the Arcola Theatre is Abbot Street, basically a laneway leading down to a back yard. It’s a bit scary to walk down when it’s not daylight but, if you continue, you’ll hit the yard and find The Dusty Knuckle Bakery and the 40ft Brewery. The Dusty Knuckle has been here a while now. It’s a social enterprise that trains young offenders, and supplies some of London’s most renowned chefs with bread and pastries. They’re renowned for their inventive sandwich combinations, like Isle of Wight tomatoes, smoked anchovies, almond aioli, lovage, garden lettuce. or Chargrilled hispi cabbage & fennel, crispy pink fir potatoes and romesco. Their pizza is pretty good too! The Dusty Knuckle also has a school, where I learned fermentation and also how to make sour dough rye bread.
The 40ft Brewery is the Dusty Knuckle’s neighbour inside the yard. This makes for some great collaborations. When in the DK classes there was always plenty of free 40ft beer in the fridge while we worked. (I always took mine home for another day.) The independent home brewing company opened in 2015 and had just two 20 foot shipping containers. They’ve since expanded to 150 feet, have a bustling beer garden, and the original name has stuck.
Walking down Abbot Street to the back yard
This lovely door in the shabby alley of Abbot Street
Off the Abbot Street Yard. Such scenes always capture me40ft Brewery Seating in Abbot Street YardDusty Knuckle Bakery pizza ovenAt the back of the newer buildings along Kingsland Road, Arcola Theatre on the leftAshwin Street, Dalston. It’s like a hidden back street with lots of treats. The Arcola Theatre, Cafe Oto, and the lovely Print HouseThe old Reeves Artists Colour Works, now the Arcola Theatre building
The Reeves building dates from 1868. William Reeves was apprenticed as a gold-and-silver wire-drawer. He set up in business as a colourman in or before 1766 and in 1768 he partnered with his older brother, Thomas Reeves. They were awarded the Silver Palette of the Society of Arts, for the invention of the watercolour cake. They started in Little Britain (St Bartholomews) advertising as ‘Superfine Colour Makers.’ 1868 In London City Press of January 18th 1868 E.H Horne was announced as architect of a new Reeves factory building, with Sewell and Sons as builders – their tender was for £2,343. The brand survives today, passed from father to son, and it’s the brand of painting box that sits on my shelf here. It’s good to know a bit about the brand now.
A close up of the roof at ReevesGlorious facade of Reeves, now The Print House. It houses offices and studios and has a lovely rooftop with views over Dalston and a bar and a stageIf this door could talk…I’ve yet to find the building’s history or date of constructionDalston Eastern Curve Garden -tarted up – with a queue for its later opening, nicely distancedAcross from the Curve Garden, the new Dalston Library and Hackney Archives on Dalston Lane. Notice the Halloween balloons
We wandered around the back streets further down Dalston Lane. There are a lot of modern buildings back here and some really nice renovated buildings too. For some very odd reasons I took hardly any photos. Where are they? The loft building, Springfield House Lofts, made me a little envious but no balconies so I’ll give it a pass. As if I could even afford a bedsit in there! (Sorry -studio, or bachelor apartment, if you prefer.)
I learned that Springfield House, formerly the Shannon Factory, is the largest surviving building designed by the “remarkable” Edwin Otho Sachs – a man so passionate about fire prevention he spent time working with fire brigades in Berlin and Paris to learn more about how blazes spread. The Shannon Factory (opened in 1902) made office and bank furniture and used many combustible products. Sachs was their man.
It’s still a lovely building. Krish tells me the rest of the factory complex is still there but I recall it only by looking at Google Maps to see that the whole factory is there but part of it is gated. Another revisit for sure!
New build on the left, repurposed Springfield House Lofts on the right – Tyssen StreetDalston Cross, where Dalston Lane meets Graham Road before continuing down towards Hackney Downs Station. It’s not hard to imagine when Dalston was a hamlet. That’s another walkAt Dalston Cross, what looks like an old church or rectory building. I always admire it. I need to look longer and closer some time to get a clue what it once was
I’m not sure if I’m excited or scared about the amount of ground and history I couldn’t cover but this was what I saw during a couple of hours on the back streets of Dalston.
On a day when I thought staying home and resting might be a good idea I instead found myself saying yes to going up to ‘the big Sainsburys’ in Dalston. It was an excuse to take a couple of photos for my aunt of a converted synagogue nearby and also keep my promise to myself to take some photos in Ridley Road Market.
First off, the synagogue. It’s hidden behind Montague Road. Montague Road Beth Hamedrash began 1902 and closed between 1980 and 1985. I’ve often thought about living in that top floor with the patio balcony.
There are many repurposed and demolished synagogues around. It amazes me how many there must have been at one point. My research tells me that around 1880 there were about 5,000 Jews in Hackney and Dalston. The richer Jews tended to move further north to Stamford Hill, Highbury, and Stoke Newington. By the end of the early 1900s there was a large population of the ‘better class of Jewish working man.’ The Jews of Whitechapel chose Dalston or Canonbury as their ‘first steps upwards.’ In the early 1950s Hackney was assumed to have the densest Jewish population in the country, and the two estates on Amhurst Road alone contained 1,500 to 2,000 working-class Jews, while half of the boys at Hackney Downs school were Jewish. Many of these families prospered and moved along and less than a third of the school’s boys were Jewish by 1972, replaced by newer Afro-Caribbean immigrants. My closest synagogue is about a kilometre away today. The Montague Road Beth Hamedrash would have been a two-minute walk, with others to choose from not much further.
I always think about how I could live in one of these little houses built between two larger onesAnother view of St Marks Church on my way to Ridley Road
Straight up to St Mark’s Rise and turn left and the bottom of Ridley Road market is straight ahead. I wasn’t keen to go into, with all the restrictions. There are barriers on either side too and that’s a bit daunting, since I often want to leave to get out to the shops along the road. Instead I walked along the west side of the market, taking in the sights of the mostly Afro-Caribbean storefronts.
The shops are mostly just shallow sheds along the road, each with its chaotic assortment of goods. There’s fish, meat, fabrics, vegetables and fruit, and household goods.
I’m not the first to say that there’s not enough Ridley Road history. Geographically, it links Dalston Lane to Kingsland Road but there’s really nothing much said about the street until the mid 1800s. The main street of Dalston, Kingsland Road, was completely commercial by 1849, properties being sold off by the Tyssen family, and the tram arriving in 1872. In 1930 The Kingsland Road market was in Ridley Road, and was among the best known in London. Other records show that the market existed since the 1880s. This period features in most of the then-modern Hackney, with so many houses that I’ve photographed having this decade engraved on the facade. Ridley Road at the end of the 1880s had about 20 stalls and has played an important part in Hackney’s history. Before the pandemic is had over 150 stalls. Once a Jewish market, it is now mainly Afro-Caribbean and Turkish.
Restricted entrance to the stalls area of Ridley Road Market. Normally, stalls would come right down the end down either side of the roadThe fabric store at the bottom of the market has seen better days. I’ve shopped in there, hoping the mountain of fabrics wouldn’t engulf meA jumble of dry goods and shoesRandom Afro-Caribbean goodsOne of many butchersClothing in the central marketStalls are spaced apart and there are fewer than there once wereObligatory burger and hot dog stand. On the whole they are very poor qualityLots of plantainNear the top of Ridley Road, with Kingsland High Street and the new buildings aheadNew normal spacing means the stalls are sparseI reached the top of the market and stallholders were starting to leave
It’s hard to show the atmosphere of Ridley Road so I took a couple of videos to try to show it. This is pandemic time so it doesn’t bustle as it used to.
I’ll confess to not liking to shop on Ridley Road, and I’ll often avoid walking along it. While it’s interesting, it crosses the line of interesting into too scruffy. That’s saying a lot coming from me. I don’t see the sense of pride I think there should be there. The shops stay the same, often look dirty, are usually quite smelly…have I sold you yet? However, there’s a lot of colour and vibrancy once you get past the assault on your senses. And you’ll find the odd favourite stall – the egg stall, and the one where we buy herbs aren’t there right now but we went regularly.
With so many newcomers in the area demanding more modern, luxurious surroundings, and with the increase in new building, Ridley Road is threatened. New residents aren’t shopping here, the poorer shoppers are being squeezed out of the area by rising prices, and the stallholders are having trouble meeting the rents and rates along with the decrease in traffic. The pandemic has has meant fewer stalls, so restricted foot traffic and revenue. While I am not a big Ridley Road fan, I’d be sad to see it totally cleaned up and overhauled, if not razed. No matter what, Ridley Road has served this community very well for almost a century and a half and I don’t know what Dalston would be without it.
Considering my goal to explore what’s close to me, I made a list of possible walks and places to see within a kilometre or two. When Krish asked me if I wanted to go on a walk, I told him I’d been wanting to revisit the German Hospital and Fassett Square.
They are actually really close by and have always been some of my favourite things in my part of this borough. So off we went.
On the way to the German Hospital are these two shops, an oasis from all the rundown and deserted shops along Dalston Lane
Madinah Road is a little gated street off Dalston Road leading to the German Hospital. At the bottom, this old house just inside the Madinah Road gate – not sure what it used to be
There’s a lot of complicated history to the German Hospital. It was founded in 1845 primarily to treat poor German-speaking immigrants in the East End. The Hospital occupied three houses converted from the Dalston Infant Orphan Asylum, and had 12 beds. When the North London railway came through the area, the hospital and its garden were separated so the governors built a new building in the garden. It opened in 1864. It now had 100 beds. By 1890 there were 142 beds, a new Sisters’ House was added in 1911 and a third block in 1912.
The nursing care provided by the Protestant Deaconesses inspired Florence Nightingale to visit the German Hospital twice before enrolling for three months’ training at the parent Institute for Protestant Deaconesses in Kaiserwerth, Germany.
The two world wars made things more complex for the institution. During WW1 there were strong anti-German feelings while the staff remained there. In 1931 the hospital had 161 beds and a new wing was built (now Bruno House) for maternity and children’s wards. This brought the bed total to 192. During WW2 things got more serious. Dr Otto Bernhard Bode, the head of the hospital in the 1930s, was a member of the Nazi party. All the German staff were arrested and interned as enemy aliens. English staff now took over.
After the war, in 1948 the NHS took over. There were now 217 beds. From 1974, it became a psychiatric and psychogeriatric Hospital, closing in 1987 when all of its services moved to Homerton Hospital.
The Grade II listed buildings were developed by Landmark Housing as affordable housing for those who earn less than £22,000 a year. I’ll take one!
Crossing the railway bridge, the Hospital is aheadNow the entrance to the residences. The legend above the doorway reads “This Hospital was opened in October MDCCCLXIV by HRH the Duke of Cambridge President.” The Duke also opened the Lutheran churchPlaque for The German HospitalGrounds of the Hospital with the former Lutheran church beyondThe former chapel entrance with the legend ‘Christo in aegrotis’ (‘to Christ in suffering’) written above the stuccoed Tuscan doorway, now a flatThe side of the Hospital, now residences
I hope you like it as much as I do.
Just beyond the church is the former Hamburg Lutheran Church, now the Faith Tabernacle Church of God. It was built in 1876 in the German Gothic style and used by both staff and patients. The minister at the outbreak of WW2 was Revd. Schonberg, a fervent Nazi, who fled the country in 1939. It’s quite a lovely church.
A broody sky adds to the Gothic lookFormerly the Hamburg Lutheran Church and now the Faith Tabernacle Church of God
I’ve been promising myself for some time that I’d walk along Shacklewell Lane with my camera. The heat put paid to that idea last week but now it’s cooler so off I went. I’d waited for the rain to let up before I left the house but there were at least three showers while I was out, sometimes heavy.
Walking along Amhurst Road today there were signs of Summer ending. I was admiring the houses and the nice curve the street makes in either direction.
Amhurst Road curving towards Kingsland RoadLooking back, Amhurst Road curving towards Mare Street
It feels like we live in a scruffier part of Amhurst Road – although not as scruffy as the piece from Dalston Lane over to Mare Street! I say this because some of the houses, architecturally the same, further up the road are set back a bit more and are better taken care of.
I’m always amused by the stuffed foxes in this window – they are wearing hats and sunglassesThis house has a rare laneway, a break in the terrace
Evelyn CourtThere used to be a synagogue here at the corner of Amhurst Road and Shacklewell Lane, opposite Evelyn Court. I believe this was the West Hackney Synagogue
During my walk, I was intrigued by the forks in the road. More than junctions, there are often three directions. At the junction of Shacklewell Lane, Amhurst Road keeps going up to Kingsland Road, to your left is Shacklewell Lane, also meeting Kingsland Road at a more westerly point, and to the right, Shacklewell Lane becomes Rectory Road towards Stoke Newington Common.
The road forks off towards Kingsland Road in two directions, and towards Rectory Road, to the right
