East London's Fredd Wigg and John Walsh Towers

Often a city's ugliest buildings are its most controversial.

The Fred Wigg and John Walsh Towers in London’s were loaded up with missile launchers during the London olympics - making the tenants inside a potential target. Now, at the forefront of the gentrifying east end, it’s likely that the towers will soon be demolished and redeveloped. The tenants, however, still don't know how long until they will be 'decanted'.

The speed at which this city changes constantly amazes me - but unfortunately - affordable housing tenants are too often left in limbo during the development process. I'd love to see these buildings recreated into something beautiful. I'd also love to see space made for existing tenants who have spent decades building a life within the community.

Either way, it looks like these buildings will soon be cleared from London's landscape, or - at least - remade into something new. I made the images below to document their place within amongst the skyline before they're no more.

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Demolition has begun: photos from Robin Hood Gardens

Despite years of campaigning from heritage groups and architects, the bulldozers have moved in. The demolition of Robin Hood Gardens is now well underway. The western block is in partial ruins. The eastern block is still occupied and is set to be razed in the new year. 

Completed in 1972 Robin Hood Gardens features rows of elevated walkways, famously known as 'streets in the sky'. The only housing estate designed by husband-and-wife duo Peter Smithson (1923-2003) and Alison Smithson (1928-1993), it's protection was supported by some of the world's most prominent architects including Richard Rogers, the late Zaha Hadid and Toyo Ito. Many, however, including the head of heritage listings and Historic England, considered it 'bleak'.

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Photographing Sydney's innerwest

Last week the awesome guys at WeAreShuffle asked me if I would take over their Instagram account for a few days. With their office way up in the the UK within the cold depths of winter, I'm sure a few photos of sunshine and was to be a warm welcome on their feed. I decided to take a series of photos over three days in area of Sydney I grew up in - an inner city collection of neighbourhoods known as the 'innerwest'. 

The aim was to represent the diversity of this district. On the one hand, the inner west enjoys some of the best Sydney Harbour views. Multi-million dollar properties line wide streets parked with Mercedes of the city's most 'elite'.

Just one or two kilometres away is the neighbourhood of Tempe, sitting directly under a major international flight path, where the descent of Boeings shakes the core of homes lying below. Perhaps the inner west's most interesting neighbourhood - Marrickville - was once a major industrial hub. Today, it's experiencing a phase of gentrification, much like that of London's Hackney Wick, or New York's Greenpoint. A wave of young people has quickly transformed the existing demographic. 

No matter where I end up in this world, the innerwest is always my home... I guess there will always be something soothing about the sound of an A380 screeching above me. 

Here are a bunch of the photos from the take-over. 

Be sure to check out WeAreShuffle's feed, or my own for more. 

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What would Ernő Goldfinger think of Balfron Tower today?

Designed by Hungarian-born architect Erno Goldfinger in 1963, Balfron Tower has become a global icon of brutalist architecture.  

Last week I took off down to Balfron to take some photos. Although slightly smaller than its younger sister, Trellick, standing 26 storeys above East London, Balfron's harsh concrete was visible for miles. 

Walking towards the base of the building, the facade overshadowed me like the sheer of a cliff face. But as the building caught glimmers of the morning sunlight through the patchy clouds above, I became very aware of the elegant sophistication of Goldfinger’s design.

Stood taking photos of the towering monolith above, a man yelled, “what’s the intrigue!?” Sensing he was a pissed off resident, I gave him a simple answer, hoping he would move on. Staunchly walking towards me, he asked again, “what is the intrigue?”

Realising that this guy wasn’t about to just walk away I decided to open up explain to him exactly why I was there. I told him of my interest in Erno Goldfinger’s architecture and why I wanted to take photos of this building in particular.

It didn’t take long before the man’s tone of voice lifted, and his demeanor calmed. Suddenly all he wanted to do was tell me of his love for Balfron. As it turns out, he’d lived in the building for 25 years and was now the last social tenant before its sale to the private sector. 

He told me about the ensuing court case for his eviction, which was bound to come to close in the following weeks. The volume of his words increase as he explained his frustration at the powers and processes above him, this clearly wasn't the first time he'd told someone his story. 

For over 50 years Balfron had housed hundreds of families across 146 affordable housing flats. Now, 145 homes sat empty, and he was the last man standing.

“You wanna come check it out from the inside?” he asked.

Minutes later we were sneaking behind security and shuffling into the building’s stainless steel elevator. Creaking up to level 26, and stepping out onto the grey, concrete flooring, I was immediately overwhelmed by smells of booze and urine. Fortunately for us the breeze from the awning-hinged windows helped to disperse the smell through the corridors.

Peering through the horizontal pattern of windows, the view from the top was incredible: Poplar sat quietly below, the city skyline loomed in distance.

As I walked down the long corridors I imagined Erno’s ambition for ‘streets in the sky’, where working class neighbours would socialise and kids would play games. It was too bad, bottles of half drunken bottles of beer and empty NOS canisters now lined the passageways. 

After sometime upstairs, it was a relief to break back into the autumn sunlight. I wondered if I could ever live in a dark, concrete tower like this one. For while I could understand Erno’s ambitions, I could also appreciate where his design concepts had failed. 

In fact, when I first arrived in the UK, I thought brutalist buildings were disgusting. Having grown up in sunny Australia where there's an abundance of low-rise bungalow-style architecture and spacious streetscapes, I often wondered why London’s huge concrete 'ghettos' hadn’t been ripped down and replaced with something more attractive. But over the years, and after some reading, I began to appreciate the ethos behind their design.

Mainly a reaction to the housing crisis following World War II, this form of architecture attempted to help London’s homelessness by creating large, affordable buildings within accessible inner city areas.  While in reality these concepts didn't always work, the ethos - at least - was admirable. 

Balfron's last remaining social tenant is likely to be removed by force in the coming weeks. With few places to go, he told me he will likely be pushed outside of London altogether.

In cities across the world, a lack of affordable housing is forcing young people and those on low incomes to look for housing alternatives. Many are moving out of the cities that they love, whilst others are feeling the impacts of living in a 'rental trap'. 

As the last social tenant is forced-out of one of the world's most famous brutalist buildings, I wonder what Erno Goldfinger thinks of his building, and architecture, today? Would he be ashamed that we now completely ignore the socialist principles of the brutalist era?

I would never suggest that contemporary designers should copy Balfron Tower, or even brutalism, as a concept. But the ambition of its developers, and their architectural boldness, would be something to emulate. 

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Photographs by Dan Young & Tom Oliver Payne.

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This is Scandinavia's Tallest Tower: The Turning Torso

Jumping out of my train from Copenhagen, I quickly paced across the station’s dark concourse, making my way towards the bright blue sky seeping through the doors ahead of me. I pushed down on the latch and swung the door open - once again confronted by a new city. This time – Malmo, Sweden.

Knowing my trip would last just 24 hours, I had 2 boxes to tick: meet new people and check out the Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava’s ‘Turning Torso’.

In typical Nordic fashion, the Turning Torso hasn’t been built with right angles and rigid lines, but instead embraces a much softer and more beautiful design. Spiralling towards the blue sky above me, no imagination was needed to figure out where it got its name.

While most of the city is made up of old city streets and wide urban plazas, the district of Vastra Hamnen (Swedish for ‘Western Harbour’) –within which the tower sits - has undergone a recent rejuvenation and comprises kilometres of contemporary offices, and apartment buildings, all stretched along the beautiful Öresund waterfront.

Back in the late 1990s the City of Malmo developed a design competition to create a new tall building in the district. Zurich-based architect Santiago Calatrava submitted a sculpture that he’d created depicting a human body contorting around its spine in an upward movement. Impressed with Santiago’s piece, Calatrava was soon underway designing what would soon become Malmo’s most impressive landmark.

At 54 storeys, the building manoeuvres 90 degrees from top to bottom, and is considered to be the world’s first twisting skyscraper (the Cayan Tower in UAE has since been built with a similar twisting concept).

But in addition to its interesting design, the Torso is powered by 100% renewable energy and has been constructed with eco-friendly materials including recyclable aluminium. It also features a high degree of energy and water efficiency, helping residents to live much more sustainable lifestyles.

As I walked from Vasta Hamnen back into Malmo’s old town, I constantly looked back over my shoulder at this huge, twisting, tower behind me. It was a pretty courageous experiment from Santiago, but I guess just another testament to the fact that fortune favours the bold.

Make sure you check it out if you’re ever in Malmo. 

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