Shopfronts of London E-Book

Eleanor Crow

• Herausgeber: Batsford
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 44

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

A collection of Eleanor Crow's beautiful watercolours of classic shopfronts. Published in partnership with Spitalfields Life Books, this timely volume celebrates the small neighbourhood shops of London. As our high streets decline into generic monotony, we cherish these independent shops and family businesses that enrich the city with their characterful frontages and distinctive typography. This collection includes more than 100 of Eleanor Crow's fine illustrations of the capital's bakers, cafes, butchers, fishmongers, greengrocers, chemists, launderettes, hardware stores, eel & pie shops, bookshops and stationers. The pictures are accompanied by the stories of the shops, their history and their shopkeepers – stretching all the way from Chelsea in the west to Bethnal Green, Clerkenwell and Walthamstow in the east. As well as beloved old and lost shopfronts, there are some recent examples of new shops that have been beautifully designed too – from cheesemongers to chippies. At a time of momentous change in the high street, this witty and fascinating personal survey champions the enduring culture of Britain's small shops.

Leseprobe

Tenby & Penny, Beulah Road, Walthamstow

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CAFÉS

BAKERS

BUTCHERS

FISH SHOPS

GREENGROCERS

DAIRY SHOPS

CHEMISTS

LAUNDERETTES

IRONMONGERS

PAPER GOODS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Eleanor at Pellicci’s (photograph Colin O’Brien)

INTRODUCTION

I CHOSE ALL THE SHOPFRONTS in this book because I like the look of them. Many are in East London, where I live, but others caught my eye elsewhere in the city. As I pass through London, I always notice the best-looking shop in any street – the one with the particularly attractive frontage, the inventively designed launderette, the small colourful café, the baker with fine fascia lettering and polished tiles, the ironmonger displaying hardware with wit and ingenuity.

Some are long-standing family businesses, others are more recent enterprises. Some have the cachet of historic architectural detailing in brickwork, masonry or glazing, emphasising the distinctive quality of the shop and the place. Some have a subtle window display, others are flamboyant. In each case, these shopfronts serve the purpose for which they are intended, drawing the attention of the potential customer.

London is comprised of many small communities and, commonly, each one has a terrace of useful shops at the centre. Despite the ubiquity of supermarkets, mini-markets and larger multi-purpose shops, and despite the ease of internet shopping, these small shops persist because of the density of the local population and the convenience of their location. They furnish our wish and whim for any small portable item – a prime cut of beef or an Eccles cake, a garden rake or a fillet of plaice. Or they may simply offer a friendly place to sit and drink a cup of tea after a trip to the market.

Yet they are more than merely useful businesses. Where great care has been taken over their appearance and where the shopkeepers have won many loyal customers, these shops deliver an invaluable community service that cannot be equalled by more impersonal forms of shopping. A diverse collection of small shops lends distinction to any location, conjuring the street life that manifests the identity of the place, both serving a human purpose and revealing that the residents care about their neighbourhood. As well as drawing their trade from the immediate vicinity, these small shops may also acquire reputations that bring customers from further afield.

I have shopped in the shops in this book, not just admiring them from the outside. My selection is personal but it is also intended as a record, aspiring to capture the everyday in the spirit of the ‘Recording Britain’ project in the last century. I have discovered that my shopfront paintings resonate with many different people, whether they know the particular shop in the picture or not. Somehow, we all share a memory of a similar small shop, whether our roots are rural or urban, whether we come from Britain or overseas, or whether we descend from a family inhabiting the same part of London for generations.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, public affection for small shops – particularly those that have survived for a great many years – is partly because we feel these shops belong to us. They are landmarks on our daily journeys and their presence on the street offers a visual and emotional anchor in an ever-changing cityscape. They are familiar points of reference in a mutable world. As the city skyline alters beyond recognition, the presence of these premises built on a human scale brings us pleasure, even as all around us the buildings, sights and perspectives of the city are eradicated or transformed.

Most of the shops in this book are still open, but some have closed since I painted them or they have passed to a new generation of owners. Working on my paintings, I learnt about shopkeeping and grew curious of the circumstances that might cause a shop to flourish or die. To open a small shop is a tremendous challenge, requiring a grasp of business and a knowledge of the trade, skill in juggling finances to pay for stock, tax, rents and rates, dexterity in managing supply chains, parking restrictions, customer demands and effective stock management. All this has to be achieved while safeguarding against theft or wastage of perishable goods. Numerous factors may shape the fortunes of the small shopkeeper. Some are personal and some are environmental – customer demographics, economic fluctuations, urban planning and government policy on rent and rates all play their part.

When a small shop closes, any of these elements may have contributed, but equally, the shopkeeper may simply wish to retire or move on. A closure may not indicate that anything is amiss, even if we mourn the loss of a favourite shop. Everything is subject to change, but when a viable business is brought down by government policy or escalating costs, this is the outcome of an unfair disadvantage for the small shopkeeper. All neighbourhoods in London reflect the tension between preservation and change, but I hope these small shops will remain as they are, since they are both beautiful and useful, and they cater for all budgets.

Most of all, this book is a celebration of the small neighbourhood shop. Those that are here and now, and some with a long and illustrious past. Whether you live in Paddington or in Plaistow, Mayfair or Mile End, Camberwell or Clerkenwell, it is the small shops that manifest the character of any community.