7 other things we should consider building in front of Euston station for no particularly good reason

Old Euston station, complete with arch. Image: Public Domain.

Minister of State for Transport John Hayes made a speech yesterday calling for more “beauty in transport”, by which he means that train stations him and Prince Charles like are good, and that train stations him and Prince Charles do not like are bad. In summary: boo to brutalism, cheers to classicism (and the Boris Bus, for some reason). In the speech’s conclusion, he calls for a totemic step, a statement of his intent: the restoration of the Doric Arch at Euston.

The arch was part of the original set of Victorian buildings that comprised Euston, which were all demolished in the 1960s because the station was no longer large enough for purpose. Serving no particular function other than loudly indicating here is our splendid Victorian railway station, vigorous attempts to save the arch failed and it was unceremoniously smashed up and dumped in the River Lea. Although widely regarded as a crime against architecture, this was not the universal view: Harold Macmillan, the Tory Prime Minister who oversaw the destruction, offered the typically pithy assessment that, “An obsession with such buildings will drain our national vitality”. Sick burn, HM.

A magnificent view of the Euston Arch from Euston Road in 1962. Or it would have been if the Arch wasn’t behind that hotel. Iconic. Image: Geograph/Ben Brooksbank.


Hayes is backing the efforts of the Euston Arch Trust to restore the arch to its rightful place or, at least, within a hundred yards of it: plans call it for it to face onto Euston Road, as the section of Drummond Street it previously stood on had the current station forecourt built on top of it, and you'd have to move the artisanal hot dog stand. But they can use quite a lot of the original stone as someone went back and fished it out of the river. It’ll certainly give the drinkers in the bars next door something to look at.

All of which is absolutely super if you, like John Hayes, think 70-foot tall doric arches are absolutely smashing. But if we’re going to build something faintly ludicrous and essentially pointless in front of Euston station, let’s consider all the options first.

We could also build:

A giant toilet

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon/CityMetric


This would help rectify London’s terrible public toilet provision AND save patrons of the Euston and Cider Tap bars from having to climb the alarming narrow spiral staircases for a wee.


A huge jar of Shippam’s Fish Paste

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon/CityMetric.

Things from the past are brilliant, after all, so let’s celebrate Britain’s culinary heritage with a vast glass jar of horrible meat paste from the days of rationing.


A miniature version of St Pancras station

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon/CityMetric.
People seem to love St Pancras station's Grade I listed frontage, so let's just build another, smaller one down the road.

A huge Sonic The Hedgehog pog

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon/CityMetric.

Only ‘90s kids remember it, but everyone will be awestruck by its audacious use of the classic 'circle' shape.


The McDonald’s Golden Arches

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon/CityMetric.

What better way to raise money for transport infrastructure than a sponsored Euston Arch for the 21st century. Everyone would be lovin’ it!


A statue of that gorilla that escaped from London Zoo and drank 5 litres of undiluted blackcurrant squash

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon/CityMetric.

Truly, a fitting London hero to welcome all our visitors from the north.


An invisible Doric Arch made of special air

Image: Geograph/Oliver Dixon.

The cheapest option by far: use a newly-invented kind of air to build an invisible replica of the arch. No-one will be able to see or touch it, but if Minister of State for Transport John Hayes asks it is absolutely, definitely there.



The smartphone app placing virtual statues of women on the map

A virtual Edith Wharton in Central Park, New York City. Image: The Whole Story Project.

If you’re a woman, then in order for you to be immortalised in stone, bronze or whatever once you’ve shuffled off this mortal coil, you should either have royal blood or be willing to be sculpted naked. That is the rule of thumb.

A statue that actually celebrates a woman’s achievements is a rare sight. Writing in the New Statesman last year, equality campaigner Caroline Criado-Perez found that out of 925 statues in Britain, as listed by the Public Monuments and Sculpture Association, only 158 are of solo women. Of these, 46 are of royalty, including 29 of Queen Victoria. Fourteen depict the Virgin Mary.

There are signs of change, albeit slow. The suffragist Millicent Fawcett is set to be honoured with a statue in Parliament Square, where currently all 11 of the statues are of men. (They include Nelson Mandela and a nine-foot Gandhi.) The monument is to be unveiled next year to celebrate the centenary of British women receiving the right to vote.

Elsewhere, the late comedian Victoria Wood is being honoured with a statue that’ll be erected in Bury, Greater Manchester. In the Moss Side area of the city, a statue of Emmeline Pankhurst will be unveiled in 2019. Unlike the Fawcett one, neither of these is expected to receive public money, relying on crowdfunding and other sources instead.

So how many more statues of women, regardless of how they’re funded, would we need to build in order to reduce the gender gap? Well, according to Jonathan Jones, art critic at the Guardian, the magic number is: zero.

Jones’s argument, back in March, was that building statues doesn’t advance feminism, but simply traps us in the past. He wrote:

Statues don’t hold public memory. They politely bury it. These well-meaning images melt into the background scenery of our lives.

Whether this is empirically true is questionable, but it’s true that we tend not to erect them as often as we used to anyway. This is partly because there is less space available for such monuments – a noticeable disadvantage cities of the present have compared to those of the past. In order to reduce the imbalance, statues of men would probably have to be removed; many would no doubt be okay with that, but it would mean erasing history.

One partial answer to the problem is augmented reality. It can’t close the gender gap, but it could shine a spotlight on it.

To that end, an advertising agency in New York launched an app at the beginning of May. The Whole Story allows users to place virtual statues of women on a map; other uses can then view and find out more about the individuals depicted at their real-world locations, using their smartphone cameras.

Currently, users have to upload their own virtual statues using 3D-modelling software. But going forward, the project aims for an open collaboration between designers, developers and organisations, which it hopes will lead to more people getting involved.

Contributions submitted so far include a few dozen in New York, several in Washington and one of Jane Austen in Hyde Park. There are others in Italy and the Czech Republic.

Okay, it’s an app created by a marketing firm, but there are legitimate arguments for it. First, the agency’s chief creative office has herself said that it’s important to address the gender imbalance in a visual way in order to inspire current and future generations: you can’t be what you can’t see, as the saying going.

Second, if the physical presence of statues really is diminishing and they don’t hold public memory, as Jones argues, then smartphones could bridge the gap. We live our lives through our devices, capturing, snapping and storing moments, only to forget about them but then return to and share them at a later date. These memories may melt away, but they’ll always be there, backed up to the cloud even. If smartphones can be used to capture and share the message that a gender imbalance exists then that’s arguably a positive thing.  

Third, with the success of Pokemon Go, augmented reality has shown that it can encourage us to explore public spaces and heighten our appreciation for architectural landmarks. It can also prove useful as a tool for learning about historical monuments.

Of course no app will replace statues altogether. But at the very least it could highlight the fact that women’s achievements are more than just sitting on a throne or giving birth to the son of God.

Rich McEachran tweets as @richmceachran.

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