Bank of England, Lothbury EC2

The back of the Bank of England, facing Lothbury, has four statues of females known locally as the Lothbury Ladies, carved by Sir Charles Wheeler in 1932-1937 for the rebuilt Bank.
The pair on the eastern pavillion stand in front of cornucopias and piles of money, repeating themes on the Threadneedle Street facade. Wheeler was slightly queasy about this, feeling that they sent the wrong signal at a time of financial crisis (Britain had just been forced off the gold standard).
He wrote to the architect, Sir Herbert Baker, who clearly told him not to be silly.
The current crisis shows that Wheeler was right to be sensitive about this - the image of the Bank pouring our money all over the City is one that is all too thought-provoking in these days of quantitative easing.
The Ladies on the western pavillion hold children, a boy and a girl. I am reminded by this of the weight of debt we have crippled our children with, but perhaps I should stop obsessing about how evil bankers are.

The last statue on the exterior of the Bank of England is a portrait of the architect of the previous building, Sir John Soane. 

It was commissioned at the suggestion of the architect of the replacement structure, Sir Herbert Baker. One would like to think that Baker wanted to make some sort of gesture of apology or atonement, but this seems unlikely as he was a pretty robust sort of man.

The figure is by Sir William Reid Dick. The great architect is shown wearing a full-length cloak and holding a bundle of drawings and a set square. The niche is decorated with the neo-Grecian motifs associated with his style.
The irony of placing a tribute to the architect actually on the sad ruins of his masterpiece was not lost on critics, especially as it is so close to Soane's much loved Tivoli Corner which Baker had promised to preserve but actually totally rebuilt. He is lucky to have his back turned to an act of vandalism more brutal than anything the Luftwaffe achieved. Indeed, nothing illustrates the Nazi's abysmal cultural values than that fact that the Bank was untouched in the blitz.

Bank of England, Threadneedle Street EC2

The Bank of England was a masterpiece by one of Britain's greatest architects, Sir John Soane, which was scandalously destroyed in the 1930s.

The fact that Soane's fortress-like wall round the old building was preserved as a platform for the new only rubs salt into the wound. But Sir Herbert Baker's pompous neo-Georgian monstrosity is adorned with some of Sir Charles Wheeler's best work.
The pediment at the top frames the Lady of the Bank, the successor to a statue of Britannia that had inspired the Bank of England's nickname 'the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street'.
Charles Wheeler's dynamic figure of girl seated on the globe with her cape billowing behind and a shower of gold coins to one side emphasises the world-wide reach of the Bank. She holds a model of the Bank itself, like those medieval statues of bishops holding models of their cathedrals.

The statue was the subject of attacks from all quarters from the moment it was unveiled in 1930. The Evening Standard wrote:

"Miss Threadneedle Street is wearing a permanent wave and not a great deal else...[she] appears in the act of removing her bath-robe; but in place of the cake of soap that she should by rights be fondling she is dandling on her knee what looks like a small Greek temple. This may be her bath salts - they are put up very elaborately these days - or again it may be a toy savings bank...For the rest, the lady has a very hard eye, a disagreeable mouth, and hands only a shade less elephantiasic than Rima's own."

Notice how Epstein manages to get into every public row about sculpture, even when it is nothing to do with him? Rima was already 10 years old and it still rankled.

A group of stockholders waged a vigorous campaign against Wheeler's work, calling them 'very extraordinary monstrosities' but luckily got nowhere. 

The new Bank's main portico has a rusticated base with a big entrance arch that makes no sense because it opens onto the roof of Soane's old building.

On either side of the arch are six statues by Charles Wheeler, conventionally referred to as caryatids (female) and telemones (male), but they aren't really because caryatids and telemones have to support parts of a building on their heads and these don't. They are more like buttresses really.
The male figures represent custodianship, according to Herbert Baker's diaries. They carry chains, keys or banners. The women hold cornucopias, a great symbol of quantitative easing. That's our money they're pouring out all over a grateful City.
The three figures to the right of the central arch:

And those to the left:

Derry and Toms, Kensington High Street W8

The apertures between C.H. Mabey's bas-relief panels and down the dramatic verticals of the lift shafts are covered with grilles created by Walter Gilbert, designer of the great gates of Buckingham Palace and the classical figures on the RSA, cousin of Sir Alfred Gilbert (the Eros man) and father of Donald (carver of one of the figures on the New Adelphi).
The smaller grilles mainly depict bats and squirrels, for some reason. Other motifs are birds and signs of the zodiac.
Walter Gilbert also designed a rather lovely set of bronze friezes featuring exotic birds, but their setting over the shop's doors means they are partly obscured by signs and the lights cause terrible reflections. What is the listing system for if it doesn't force owners of historic buildings to arrange things so they can be photographed effectively? Action now!

Derry and Toms, Derry Street W8

The Derry Street facade of Derry and Toms continues the wonderful line of bas reliefs by Charles Mabey, described in the post on the Kensington High Street facade.

Silversmiths

From left to right, the series continues with more artistic pursuits. Above, printers bash out the Derry and Toms annual Christmas gift catalogue. Right, silversmiths decorate urns.

Potters

Builders

Above, potters throw and decorate a pot. Right, builders mix and pour concrete. It's an odd coupling - the potters get respect for their art, good money and it's inside work with no heavy lifting. For the builders it is the complete opposite.

Foundrymen

At this point, Charles Mabey seems to have run out of ideas, time or money (or any combination of these essential elements of any artistic project).

Foundrymen

We have been here before, on the other side of the building.

Bricklayers

Lumberjacks

Above, bricklayers wearing traditional bricklayers' flat caps. Below, lumberjacks wearing something that is nothing like the hats lumberjacks used to wear in films of the great outdoors.

Pilot and mechanic

At last, a trade that was entirely new when Derry and Toms was built, although the plane with its open cockpit, fixed undercarriage and manual starting (chocks away, Ginger!) already give the image a nostalgic, primeval atmosphere.

Dispatch department?

It is not entirely clear what the guys below are doing. They seem to be baling something, wool perhaps? The worker with his back to us is tending some sort of machine while his mate is hauling a huge bag away.

Postmen

Postmen heave sacks of mail here, perhaps sending out the catalogues that were being printed further round the building.
And another new trade - motor mechanics work on a rather grand automobile with an early 'cherished plate' DT 1932.
Cherished plates go right back to the early days of motoring. A popular joke in 1914 was:

Motor mechanic

"What does the Kaiser have on his number plate?" "2L."
"And what does the Crown Prince have on his number plate? 2L2!"
They don't write them like that any more, thank heavens.

Brickies

Road menders

The last pair of bas-reliefs by Charles Mabey are reprises of subjects he has visited before.
Perhaps he didn't care so much because they are round the back.
Top is another couple of men digging a hole in the road. Below, a pair of brickies clad the steel frame.
Despite the repetitions, this set of images must be one of London's least known masterpieces. I certainly never appreciated them until I managed to look at them closely by the wonder of telephoto and digital imaging.

Derry and Toms, Kensington High Street W8

Once upon a time, most of Kensington High Street was Barker's. Even Derry and Toms was a branch of Barker's, despite being right next door.

Foundrymen

Barker's was one of those operations that grew by gobbling up all the neighbours, and at one point it covered a vast area from the north side of Kensington Square to the High Street. Derry and Toms was one of the victims, and in the 1920s it needed a new store to replace the rabbit-warren of properties it had acquired over the decades. Barker's resident architect, Bernard George, designed a facade of Beaux Art proportions but Art Deco detail. The inside was designed on the latest American principles with huge floor spaces held up by columns at regular intervals. Construction began in 1929.

Blacksmiths

The frieze at the top contains a line of no fewer than 29 bas-reliefs depicting trades associated with construction, transport and the materials sold in the shop. They are by Charles Henry Mabey Junior, the last of one of the family firms that used to dominate architectural sculpture.

Quarrymen

It seems a shame they are so far away from the ground - you really need binoculars to see them and photographing them is difficult. They must have looked very impressive in the drawings George presented to the Barker's board, however.
Identifying the trades is a matter of guesswork, because I have been unable to find a definitive list.

Cotton

Indian cotton was a big line in Derry and Toms. If these reliefs are a true reflection of the trade, the cotton was picked and spun by women but the men seem to be 'supervising'.
Ghandi was campaigning against the cotton trade at the time, pointing out that cotton grown and picked in India would be shipped to Britain for spinning and weaving, to be shipped back to India for sale to the rich. Almost all of the wages and profit was made and spent in Britain.

Indian cotton pickers

These reliefs show a different angle - the cotton is being spun and woven in India (the guy on the right is examining a sample of cloth) and sold to rich people in London. Still, I'm willing to bet that most of the profit went to Derry and Toms.

Steelmen

Derry and Toms was an early example of the American store system of big open interiors with the lifts and stairs at the edges. This was made possible by a steel frame, as being built by the workers above. Note absence of safety harnesses, hard hats or safety glasses.
Below, a joiner and his mate trim a panel with a plane.

Joiners

Masons

More images of workers on the Derry and Toms building. Above, masons prepare a massive bit of cornice for hoisting into position. Below, a block of stone is levered into place.

Masons

Sheepshearers

Wool was a major material for Derry and Toms, and here are some sheepshearers getting the raw material. They are using electric clippers, but the artist has simplified them so they look more like combs with hoses attached. It is probably in Australia.

Hunters

The image below would be instantly nixed by the PR department these days. It shows trappers skinning a bear they have just shot, probably in Canada.

Roadmen

The panels at the eastern end of the main front of Derry and Toms show work on what would today be called 'infrastructure'. Two men wield pneumatic drills (above) without the benefit of ear defenders - yesterday's heroes, today's deaf old gits. The workers below seem to have a much safer job, although I'm not sure exactly what it is. Assembling a transformer, perhaps? Or is it a boiler?

Workers

For the eastern facade, see Derry Street. A separate post deals with the ironwork by Walter Gilbert.