There’s a kickstarter campaign to fund a reprint of the British Rail design manual

A mock up of the British Rail branding book. Image: Wallace Henning.

Way back last year CityMetric brought you news of a couple of fundraisers with a simple dream – to bring the New York subway graphics manual available to anyone who wanted to buy it.

That, it turned out, was a lot of people: the campaign raised over $250,000 on its first day alone. People, it seems, really, really love a spot of transport design.

Since then others have been taking notice. Just last month a similar project raised over six times its funding target at almost a million dollars in order to make available reproductions of the original NASA branding papers.

But what about the design fans based in the UK, we hear you ask: can they, too, get their government-issue font-based kicks?

Well, now they can. This Kickstarter campaign wants to bring the British Rail corporate identity manual to a coffee table near you.

The campaign wants to republish documents from the 1960s, a decade in which time British Rail underwent a branding overhaul. Introducing the now-iconic “double arrow” logo, the BR design team set about creating a modern, consistent corporate identity across the mammoth network.

Reams of diagrams and graphic templates were produced, specifying the minutiae of everything from trackside architecture, to uniforms, to stationery. If it meets its funding target, the new clothbound hardback will bring together approximately 220 original diagrams. You can see the thing on this site here.

Will this fundraiser be as successful as its stateside cousin? As we write it has reached about a third of its target with one month to go.

One might assume that the customer buying into the New York Metro branding and all of its connotations might represent a rather different demographic to the British Rail equivalent. BR was many things, but it was never particularly cool.


But perhaps with time, its connotations of shabbiness are ebbing in favour of a distinctly British nostalgia. Who else could look back with even a vague fondness for leaves on the line and the wrong kind of snow? No mention as yet of whether the unique specifications of a British Rail sandwich will make it into the finished book.

You can find out more about the Kickstarter campaign and donate here.

Or you can like us on Facebook, if you like.

All images: Wallace Henning.

 
 
 
 

Does it matter that TfL are renaming White Hart Lane station Tottenham Hotspur?

New White Hart Lane. Image: Getty.

Pretend for a moment that you’re travelling in the London of 1932. You’re taking the Piccadilly Line northbound and alight at Gillespie Road station. The name should be obvious: it’s inscribed in bespoke brown tiling on the platform.

But that 31 October, following an intense campaign by the eponymous football club, the London County Council changed the station’s name to Arsenal (Highbury Hill). The area’s growing association with the name “Arsenal” ended in a lengthy negotiation that changed maps, signs and train tickets alike. Football had acquired so much power that it changed the name of not just a Tube station but an entire suburb, even before the era of Wenger or the Emirates.

Now the spectre of name changes is on the horizon once again. As Tottenham Hotspur FC inches closer to completing its new stadium, the club is clamouring for a renamed Overground station. Despite the fact the new stadium is located on almost exactly the same site as the old just off White Hart Lane, and fans have long been calling the scaffolding-laden mess “New White Hart Lane”, the club’s executive director is adamant that the station’s existing name cannot stand. White Hart Lane station, on the Overground line leaving Liverpool Street, is set to be renamed “Tottenham Hotspur”, at a cost to the club of £14.7m.

Little has been made of the fact that this peculiar PR kerfuffle is tied to Spurs’ failure to convince Nike to sponsor the venue. Some sources have even claimed that the sponsorship is yet to be finalised because it is somehow contingent on the renaming of the Overground station; beyond the ridiculous Johnson-era vanity project that was the Emirates Air Line, it seems improbable that TfL will allow any more corporate-flavoured information pollution. There will be no “Nike Stadium” station on the way to Enfield, much as there is no “Emirates” on the way to Cockfosters, especially if public consultation gets a look in.

The scene of the crime. Image: TfL.

But there’s a problem with the new name, all the same. “White Hart Lane” already means “football stadium”, in the same way Loftus Road or Stamford Bridge do. Changing it to “Tottenham Hotspur” risks opening the floodgates to an “O2 North Greenwich” or a “Virgin Euston” at some point in future, names as banal as there are dystopian. The Greater London Authority has promised to spend the £14.7m fee on community programmes in the local area – but that’s not much money to set the precedent that a private company can mess about with the Tube map.


What’s more, as CityMetric has often observed, there are plenty of station names across London that could do with a tidy up. Picking one that’s perfect already and asking for £14.7m to change it is adding insult to injury. How much would it cost a community group if they asked to change the name of Goodge Street to Fitzrovia? Why does a vast corporate entity backed by international sponsors and thousands of season ticket holders get to set the standard?

Back in Arsenal’s day, changing names on the Tube must have been easy; changes could be accommodated gradually without bothering the every day traveller. But in our world of online information, maps and apps, name changes are rather more complicated.

The question is – if TfL can bring itself to balefully accept this particular proposition, why can’t it accept ours? Why sort out a single non-issue on the Tube Map when you can catch lots of real ones in one go? A day’s pandemonium might just be a price worth paying to fix the Bethnal Greens problem once and for all.