Showing posts with label wigmore street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wigmore street. Show all posts

Monday, 7 February 2011

Debenham and Freebody, Wigmore Street W1

Soon after the commission for the Savoy Hotel in 1903, Doulton landed another prominent job for its Carrara Ware white glazed tiles. In 1907 they were specified for Debenham and Freebody's new West End store.
Sir Ernest Debenham was a fan of glazed tiles, which were plastered all over his remarkable home in Addison Road. It is a pity he didn't use the same architect, Halsey Ricardo, on the shop. It would have had a lot more bite than the conventional Edwardian bombast served by William Wallace and J.S Gibson.
The grand curved pediment in front of the central tower displays the Royal Arms and a pair of voluptuous ladies, one with laurel wreaths and another holding a scroll and a pen. I imagine they symbolise Victory and Peace, though they could just as easily represent Value and Customer Service.
I do like the cartouche with the pair of delightful putti over the front door, however. Very lively.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

42-46 Wigmore Street W1

This pair of very relaxed putti is above the central arch of an 1882 shop designed by George & Peto in the Dutch style, in red brick with terracotta facings and a line of frilly gables on top. The site was the original Debenhams, but I have been unable to find out if this building was built for the plutocratic draper which in any event moved over the road in 1907.

Friday, 19 February 2010

1 Wigmore Street W1

For years I have secretly loved this putti orchestra, and felt ashamed. It is everything that modern art critics despise - representational, cutesy and the worst sort of fake - a 20th century pastiche of the Georgian style.
But now I find that it is by Art Deco hero Gilbert Bayes, so it's OK to admire it!
The second surprise is that Bayes used his usual concrete and not the stucco that I had assumed, though they are covered in so many layers of paint it is impossible to see.
It seems that the orchestra and the pair of ladies on either side of the door date from 1925 when John Brinsmead & Co, the piano makers, converted it into a showroom. Brinsmead had gone bust in 1920 after the workers went on strike and had been bought by rivals Cramer, who clearly wanted to make what had been the side of the house into something grander.

They are unusual for Bayes. Did he do them under the influence of Rex Whistler, who was just beginning to make waves at the time, or for a bit of fun, or because he needed the money?