Architecture is full of references and consequences, of reflections and aspirations. It is a time capsule that gives us unique insights into the past, the present, and the future… and how we perceive them.
The memory of the London Mithraeum made Arts Editor Raphael Tiffou more appreciative of the bankers, the buses, and the birds, than frustrated that he would not meet Samuel Pepys or the Kray twins as he ascended from the depths.
Westminster Underground Station is an example of the extraordinary ability we have of making a reality out of a desire or an idea; a very human but incredibly powerful process.
The Hill Garden and Pergola is a great example of the metaphorical Primitive Hut: an allegory of how architecture first started as a natural step in human development, driven by our need to find shelter. If architecture is our natural way to respond to our circumstances: how will architecture change now that our needs are so far away from those of the primitive man?
The development around the heart of Camden is a uniquely eclectic part of London. An embodiment of 1960s architectural trends, this post-modern approach to urbanism focuses not on aesthetics, but on fighting the authority of modernism and its effects over the city.
Buildings show us their soul in subtle ways, through light, perspective, and materiality. In the end, the aura created is sometimes stronger than the stone of its walls and, almost invariably, tells us something about society, and ourselves.
Behind the exquisite Georgian facade of numbers 12, 13 and 14 of Lincoln's Inn Fields is a labyrinthine cave of wonder, teeming with eccentric relics and classical art.
Whether we love or hate the brutalist aesthetic of the building, we can use the National Theatre as a looking glass to enjoy St Paul’s Cathedral, Somerset House, and the dynamism of the river bank in a new light.
After spending a few minutes in both stations, we are left with an important question: is ornament more beautiful than sincerity?