Today is Canary Wharf station's 25th birthday. Not the DLR station (that's 33) nor the Crossrail station (that's 2) but the Jubilee line station which opened mid-afternoon on Friday 17th September 1999.
To celebrate its silver anniversary I thought I'd compare and contrast then and now in a feature I'm calling...
The relentless commercialisation of Canary Wharf station
When it opened in 1999 the Jubilee line extension was much lauded architecturally, and rightly so. Canary Wharf duly won the RIBA Architecture Award for 2000 and was shortlisted for the Stirling Prize. But it's illustrative to look back to what Foster and Partners said about their creation at the time...
Glide down into the cavernous depths of Canary Wharf station today and what immediately strikes you are the two dazzling advertising screens strategically placed halfway along the concourse. They were switched on in October 2016 as the vanguard of TfL's new digital advertising strategy and were deliberately designed not to be missed.
These are massive double-sided screens, 7.2m wide and 4m high, each hung low enough to completely dominate the cathedral-like space. They cycle repeatedly through six 10-second adverts, ensuring the captive audience on the escalators sees the full set before they reach the barriers. They're accentuated because the lighting in the concourse has been subtly dimmed to make the messages stand out more, a devious nudge to get people to look up from their phones. Sorry, were you lost in your own private thoughts? Stop that right now, engage and prepare to consume.
Admittedly these are officially sanctioned screens, designed in collaboration with original architects Foster and Partners.
Admittedly they're valuable real estate for TfL, bringing in considerable revenue from a stream of advertisers aiming to reach a quality market. And admittedly large-scale adverts were commonplace in the station's early days with static wraps up all the central pillars. But you can forget "creating a sense of clarity and calm", the aim is now to flog commercial services.
2) The ever-increasing range of shops
Retail units weren't part of the station's original design, there being an adjacent mall for shopping if you so desired, but they've been shoehorned in ever since. The walk to the lift once took you past three telephone kiosks, this corner later gouged out for a Paperchase and most recently occupied by Greggs to sell sausage rolls and boxes of pizza slices. Beyond those are a barbers and a hair salon, but because this is Canary Wharf a gentleman's cut will set you back £42. Two other long-ish standing outlets sell nice bagels and nice coffee, and don't forget the teensy bureau de change at the far end.
What happened to the ticket office? It's now a row of shops selling slightly less mainstream food - organic pretzels, chai tea and premium biltong, perhaps even a nice bottle of South African red. Here too is a kiosk where someone can fix your phone, plus a hoarding which has been promising for months that a bubble tea shop will be opening soon.
What happened to the cash machines? They became another retail unit, vacated in the last few weeks by a luxury watch repair company so now back on the market if you want to sign a five year lease at £85,000 per annum. And yes why shouldn't there be shops, but equally there were none to start with and now they're well into double figures.
3) Dead toilets
When the station opened London Transport had a social conscience, hence there were ladies and gents toilets. Today their silvery doors are visible along the left-hand side of the escalators but the walkway is barriered so piss off and leave your bodily excretions elsewhere. To be fair the Canary Wharf estate is loaded so why not rely on their conveniences, however far away they might be. But at some point in the last 25 years somebody at TfL decided "no it's fine, let's shut the toilets" because that's the kind of organisation they have to be these days.
4) No cash
The disappearing cash machines were just the start. Canary Wharf was also the first station - indeed may still be the only station - not to accept cash in its ticket machines. It's fine, these financial types all have cards and smartphones, maybe even swipe through with their watch. But TfL have never dared to erase cash elsewhere, much as they might really like to.
5) The silent cinema
At the far end of the concourse, in the dead space beyond the farthest line of ticket gates, Art on The Underground installed a giant viewing area in 2012. It was called the Canary Wharf Screen and they had high hopes.
Unfortunately it failed to attract an audience, being so far from the action that nobody ever had need to walk past, indeed the vast majority of passengers would never have realised it was here. Films continued playing to almost nobody until 2014, then they pulled the plug and the big screen has been blank ever since.
You can still wander down and see a large grey rectangle, 8 seats and an empty leaflet rack, but staff are likely to eye you suspiciously long before you reach the cultural nomansland at the far end. The space is unmonetisable because it's behind the gateline and there's even less money for art than there is for toilets, so expect cultural nomansland to continue.
6) The devious exit
This is a bit of a cheat because it's the fault of Canary Wharf Group rather than TfL, but they're now toying with you as you leave the station. Originally the exit into Jubilee Place led directly to escalators leading up into the main shopping mall, but in 2013 they added an extra Level Minus Two and funnelled everyone through that instead. No matter that it adds a minute to your journey, it also ushers you along a marble-floored passage past bijou resortwear and exclusive homewares, and if that isn't relentless commercialisation I don't know what is.
7) G Pay pads
When Canary Wharf opened in 1999 we all swished through the barriers with paper tickets, then a few years later Oyster pads appeared. These were always yellow until Google decided it wanted G Pay to be more prominent and turned them all white in March 2020. Their timing was pandemically appalling, but they've continued to stump up almost £2m a year ever since and the yellow has never returned. No matter that visitors to London might not realise they can use competitor cards instead, indeed even 'Oyster' is in smaller type, but marketing money is deemed more important than clarity. And OK yes this is at every station, not just here, but it is just another example of how Canary Wharf has evolved in a relentlessly commercial direction over the last 25 years.
It might all look normal now, but in 1999 it would have looked anything but.
