Sometimes what you want to do on Open House weekend isn't to go inside houses that are open, but to wander round pointing at several that are closed. That's why I undertook a guided tour at the northern end of the Jubilee line, former outpost of Metro-land, exploring Modernist houses around and above Stanmore. It was led by Josh Abbott of the Modernism in Metro-land website, of which more later, and who is probably reading this morning's post in a state of nervous shock. He's been running Open House tours of Stanmore since 2015 - notes and photos here - and they've always been popular. I counted 60 of us, well-wrapped and waterproofed, in the initial huddle outside Stanmore station.
Numbers 2-10 Valencia Road were the first to be built, in 1935, and form the most impressive set thanks to their compact layout along the alignment of the slope. Each has horizontal windows and a convex staircase, as well as the obligatory sun deck (as was the fashion at the time). They don't normally have random strangers clustered on the verge outside, pointing, which must have been unnerving when some of the residents emerged mid-spiel. It's hard to argue with a crowd of 60 people swarming up your backstreet, and passing cars weren't always sure whether to pause or honk their way through.
KerryAvenue rises gently behind a hedge opposite the station. Its first six houses were built in 1937 by a young Lutyens-trained architect, and are also not your average suburban fare. Set in decent-sized gardens, they too feature flat roofs and rounded staircase towers, and are built from brick coated with snowcrete - which is the posh way of saying "white cement". Alas they also have residents who get their hedges trimmed on Saturdays, which occasionally rendered Josh's description of their construction semi-inaudible.
Further up Kerry Avenue, just below the entrance to the country park, are two later Modernist houses built as specific commissions. Number 14 was for RH Uren, the architect who also designed Hornsey Town Hall and Rayners Lane tube station, its yellow-brick cuboids very much in the international style. Number 16 was slotted in thirty years later, and isn't so clearly seen from the road, which barely explains why some members of the group thought they'd walk up its drive for a closer look.
The two apartment blocks at Warren Fields seemed quite ordinary, but Josh revealed they were a lot older than they looked, built in concrete by Owen Williams in 1936. Almost none of that is visible now, the exterior having been clad in bog-standard brick as part of an unsympathetic refurb around thirty years ago. I wouldn't have given them a second look, but that's the joy of a good guided tour, having someone point out intriguing true stories hidden in plain sight.
The next pair of must-see houses involved a hike through a recreation ground and the ascent of Stanmore Hill, suddenly diverting off down the side of a garage to explore Halsbury Close. Number 1 is a listed building, essentially comprising two brick cubes with a cut-away corner, and was built in 1938 by a German architect/refugee. He himself lived in a simpler construction at number 2, whose present inhabitants won't have been impressed by numerous unenlightened intruders stepping over their chain fence to take a better photograph.
Our final house required marching even further up Stanmore Hill, then dropping down into the private Aylmer Road estate. The first house on Aylmer Close is a long flat-roofed bungalow dating from 1963, crowned with black timber, and with two personalised numberplates parked underneath. Allegedly Stanley Kubrick planned to use it as a location in A Clockwork Orange, but the owner refused so he filmed the infamous interior scene in Radlett instead. The current owner peered out briefly in his shirtsleeves, clearly unused to crowds in kagoules mustering outside his private hideaway.
I think it's fair to say not everyone who came on the tour realised quite how far they'd be walking, including a fair amount of ascent, and without much Modernist to see between stops. But numbers held up throughout the damp hour-long safari, which was testament both to the selected locations and Josh's exposition of detail thereon. You can read a lot more about Modernism in Metro-land on his website, and blog, perhaps tracking down some architectural examples nearyou. There's usually a cool photo or three on his Twitter.
Or if you prefer your Modernism in printed form, Josh is trying to get a book out packed with information about alluring buildings from the suburbs and home counties, copiously photographed. Here's a video he's made to explain more, or go pledge to buy a copy when it's eventually published. The project has over 500 backers and is three-quarters funded already, so think of this as pre-ordering for delivery on an unknown date in the hopefully not too distant future.
And finally, to the house in the best location in Pinner. It's occupied the brow of the hill beside the parish church for almost three centuries and obviously it's called Pinner House. A brick beside the top window has the date 1721 scratched into it, so that's probably when the house was constructed. An early resident was a lady whose great grandparents were Charles II and Neil Gwynne. Other owners include a vicar, an army General, a builder and a London wholesaler. In 1947 the local authority took over Pinner House as social housing for old people, who had to be citizens of the greater Harrow area and lived in dormitories upstairs. It's still an old people's home, but they now live in accessible bedsit flats round the back.
"I live here," said the old person sitting just inside the back door. "It's never too early to put your name on the waiting list." The main house smelt of accumulated dinners. "Here's a photo of what the Blue Room used to look like." In the downstairs lounge, a grey-permed lady looked up from her cosy chair at the sight of yet another visitor peering in. Tea and cake was being served in the historic dining room. "They hacked those oak panels to fit the walls." The building's listed, hence lift-free, so not everyone can get to the upstairs lounge. "Ooh, we used to have a Singer sewing machine like that". Planes landing at Heathrow are visible from the first floor window. "We think the stairs might be rather special, perhaps we should get English Heritage round to take a proper look."
So yes, I spent part of Open House weekend at a old people's home in Pinner. I also went to a bingo hall, a swimming pool, a multinational HQ, a cultural centre, a design studio, a town hall, a primary school, a property asset and a prison. For what is Open House if not an annual opportunity to see inside the ordinary and the extraordinary, to see how life ticks over, until the same time next year?
