Somewhere famous: the South Bank A forced architectural deadline doesn't always produce popular results. 2000 brought us the Dome, and 2012 heralds the new Olympic Park, like it or not. It was a similar story in 1951 for the Festival of Britain. 27 derelict acres of Lambeth's northernmost riverside was chosen as as the focus for this celebration of postwar national renaissance, but not everyone was pleased. Critical voices castigated the government for throwing away public money on a temporary exhibition when there were other far more pressing economic priorities. But they built it anyway. Sounds familiar.
Of all the buildings constructed for the Festival of Britain only the Royal Festival Hall still stands. The surrounding buildings and concrete walkways were built in the late 60s, redeveloping the festival site to create the oppressive South Bank Centre. If you're brave and have a good sense of direction then you might risk venturing up a forbidding stairwell to the Hayward Gallery[photo]. If you can locate the correct pathway(s) from Waterloo to the riverside then there's a chance you might reach your seat at the National Theatre before curtain up. And only if you have floppy hair and a skateboard are the concrete catacombs beneath the Queen Elizabeth Hall the place to hang out [photo]. Like a socially-engineered council estate of the same period, the multi-level thoroughfares proved more popular with architects than the public expected to use them.
Four decades later, wholesale realignment and reconstruction is finally underway. Under the new masterplan there'll be new entrances at ground level and increased open space so that visitors can find their way around more easily. This will still be London's arts hub, but with a slightly softer face. And more coffee. I do sometimes wonder whether modern concert halls and galleries exist primarily to promote art or to peddle cappucinos. Walk into the National Film Theatre and you'll have to negotiate the café first. The riverside frontage of the QEH is given over to a big café, not a performance space. And the new slim glass building they've slid in beside the Royal Festival Hall may have offices on the upper floors, but it's all restaurants and cafés down below. The Radio 3 audience will come anyway, it seems, but everyone else can only be attracted to proper culture by a muffin, a latté and a nice sit down. 40 years on, the South Bank has finally discovered how to be loved. by train: Waterloo; by bus: RV1
A forced architectural deadline doesn't always produce popular results. 2000 brought us the Dome, and 2012 heralds the new Olympic Park, like it or not. It was a similar story in 1951 for the Festival of Britain. 27 derelict acres of Lambeth's northernmost riverside was chosen as as the focus for this celebration of postwar national renaissance, but not everyone was pleased. Critical voices castigated the government for throwing away public money on a temporary exhibition when there were other far more pressing economic priorities. But they built it anyway. Sounds familiar.
Of all the buildings constructed for the Festival of Britain only the Royal Festival Hall still stands. The surrounding buildings and concrete walkways were built in the late 60s, redeveloping the festival site to create the oppressive South Bank Centre. If you're brave and have a good sense of direction then you might risk venturing up a forbidding stairwell to the Hayward Gallery [photo]. If you can locate the correct pathway(s) from Waterloo to the riverside then there's a chance you might reach your seat at the National Theatre before curtain up. And only if you have floppy hair and a skateboard are the concrete catacombs beneath the Queen Elizabeth Hall the place to hang out [photo]. Like a socially-engineered council estate of the same period, the multi-level thoroughfares proved more popular with architects than the public expected to use them.
Four decades later, wholesale realignment and reconstruction is finally underway. Under the new masterplan there'll be new entrances at ground level and increased open space so that visitors can find their way around more easily. This will still be London's arts hub, but with a slightly softer face. And more coffee. I do sometimes wonder whether modern concert halls and galleries exist primarily to promote art or to peddle cappucinos. Walk into the National Film Theatre and you'll have to negotiate the café first. The riverside frontage of the QEH is given over to a big café, not a performance space. And the new slim glass building they've slid in beside the Royal Festival Hall may have offices on the upper floors, but it's all restaurants and cafés down below. The Radio 3 audience will come anyway, it seems, but everyone else can only be attracted to proper culture by a muffin, a latté and a nice sit down. 40 years on, the South Bank has finally discovered how to be loved.
A forced architectural deadline doesn't always produce popular results. 2000 brought us the Dome, and 2012 heralds the new Olympic Park, like it or not. It was a similar story in 1951 for the 
