I refer to a feature in the Times' Saturday magazine, in which a ghastly architect showed off his family's house. He actually makes them live in this place; it's not something he inflicted on some foolish client and then gave no further thought to.
Here, you may think, is a highly desirable, well-preserved (unspoilt) cottage of Cotswold stone with pleasing non uPVC windows and stone slate roof. It has (see left side of picture) a monstrous and most unfortunate excrescence attached.
The addition was put on out of spite because the architect could not get permission to demolish the house. "In hindsight," the architect says, "the planning and conservation people were right to refuse permission 'because there were some original wrought-iron features on the windows'." Actually, mate, there were a lot more things than that which would have made demolition a crime against humanity and against the entire Cotswolds.
So up went the hideous extension, far bigger than the original cottage and totally out of keeping with it. The architect considers the extension to 'blend seamlessly with the surroundings'. Look, and tell me - does this blend in with the surroundings?
No. Of course it doesn't. It is a mortal wound on the surroundings and quite hideous.
Inside they have furnished it with unsympathetic furniture including ugly village hall style chairs and put offensive so-called art works on the walls.
All completely inappropriate for a gamekeeper's cottage.
And I disapprove of that mantelpiece thing they have stuck on the bressemer beam over the fireplace.
The architect's wife is an art adviser. See what she puts in her own house, and reflect - is this wise? Do I require this person's advice? Would I value it? The answer, as we all know, is, no.
Here's the kitchen
with the family bravely smiling through their tears and concealing their amazement and despair. There is miserable plain white melamine everywhere you look, and the architect boasts that they banish all signs of culinary equipment behind white cupboard doors which he designed himself. Fancy!
"Now, what shape shall I choose? ...Yes, I'm going to have rectangular doors... I think I'll make them the same size as the front of the cupboard... gosh it's difficult designing a plain white door."
Apparently that type of decor is John Pawson-like. This surprises me, since I wouldn't have thought one would need any mentor or outside influence in order to come up with such a dull, utilitarian, characterless kitchen.
Still, it's not all been easy for these poor deres - listen to what happened when they tried to make a wild flower meadow... the posh landscape gardener they called in to help them had decided to 'achieve a grassy carpet of white wild flowers'. Silly woman. Sure enough when the wild flowers came up, OH DEAR! they were all sorts of colours! Look, luv, that is what you get with wild flowers. They're WILD. Anyway a whole lot of many-coloured wild flowers is jolly nice and you should be grateful. However, Architect and Mrs Architect viewed the whole incident as a total disaster and really ought to get out more.
Also in the interview the architect was horrid and unchivalrous about his wife - he said that contrary to her claim that she found the place, really he found it; and he railed against her sofa cushions, in the national press. He said the only thing he doesn't like about his beastly house is some sofa cushions that his wife insisted on having. Poor thing, she must have wanted some shred of comfort to solace her in that disagreeable habitat.
I consider his conduct childish, peevish, and not admirable.
Yet despite his architectural and husbandly misdemeanours he remains totally unrepentant and in my opinion is not fit to practise as an architect at large in the community, or indeed, as a spouse.
So up went the hideous extension, far bigger than the original cottage and totally out of keeping with it. The architect considers the extension to 'blend seamlessly with the surroundings'. Look, and tell me - does this blend in with the surroundings?
Inside they have furnished it with unsympathetic furniture including ugly village hall style chairs and put offensive so-called art works on the walls.
And I disapprove of that mantelpiece thing they have stuck on the bressemer beam over the fireplace.
The architect's wife is an art adviser. See what she puts in her own house, and reflect - is this wise? Do I require this person's advice? Would I value it? The answer, as we all know, is, no.
 |
| See what I mean? And they've children living in the house as well. Most unseemly. |
Here's the kitchen
"Now, what shape shall I choose? ...Yes, I'm going to have rectangular doors... I think I'll make them the same size as the front of the cupboard... gosh it's difficult designing a plain white door."
Apparently that type of decor is John Pawson-like. This surprises me, since I wouldn't have thought one would need any mentor or outside influence in order to come up with such a dull, utilitarian, characterless kitchen.
Still, it's not all been easy for these poor deres - listen to what happened when they tried to make a wild flower meadow... the posh landscape gardener they called in to help them had decided to 'achieve a grassy carpet of white wild flowers'. Silly woman. Sure enough when the wild flowers came up, OH DEAR! they were all sorts of colours! Look, luv, that is what you get with wild flowers. They're WILD. Anyway a whole lot of many-coloured wild flowers is jolly nice and you should be grateful. However, Architect and Mrs Architect viewed the whole incident as a total disaster and really ought to get out more.
Also in the interview the architect was horrid and unchivalrous about his wife - he said that contrary to her claim that she found the place, really he found it; and he railed against her sofa cushions, in the national press. He said the only thing he doesn't like about his beastly house is some sofa cushions that his wife insisted on having. Poor thing, she must have wanted some shred of comfort to solace her in that disagreeable habitat.
I consider his conduct childish, peevish, and not admirable.
Yet despite his architectural and husbandly misdemeanours he remains totally unrepentant and in my opinion is not fit to practise as an architect at large in the community, or indeed, as a spouse.
In conclusion, I think you will see why it was impossible to remain silent on this matter.
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