We missed the big shows, but there was still plenty of action on our estate.
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Continuing our project of exploring how the urban design of the East End stifles the life of those who live there…
After World War Two, when a significant part of the community around the docks of the East End was flattened from German bombing, the government realized it needed some fast remedies to deal with the lack of housing. Their response included “temporary” tower estates like Gordon House.
These towers were built with two ideas in mind. First, they were to be temporary, that would be replaced by better structures in the following decades. Second, they were intended to be “vertical neighborhoods”, where residents could be a community that… gathered in the elevator, I guess?
Yet here we are, half a century later, and we’re left with the same tall concrete tower, given the feeling of a Eastern European Soviet building, that just sucks the life and community out of a place.
Lots of concrete and fences around playgrounds aren’t the only thing giving kids the impression that they don’t have the freedom to explore and play; sometimes, it’s much more explicit. Even in empty spaces with no windows, precious plants, or anything to protect, property owners are very clear that young people shouldn’t play around here. “No Ball Games” is a very common sign here, even in spots that may be the only location for kids to play near their home.
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As the members and friends of our order here in London have been learning about the history and current condition of the East End, we have had plenty of discussion about the the way our urban landscape was designed. Things have changed a lot over the past century, particularly as the docklands were being rebuilt in the decades following World War 2.
In a period where modernist design influenced architects and city planners alike, our neighborhood was designed as a place of systems, a place of order, where everything was designated for a purpose—for sleeping, for walking, for playing, for looking at.
It was an approach to urban planning that looks great on paper, and makes for impressive designs. Yet it is an approach that ultimately becomes a barrier to community and healthy living. With fences lining every possible area, tons of concrete for no apparent reason, green spaces that look like they shouldn’t be walked on, and buildings that emphasize space over people, we’re left with an urban landscape that, both implicitly and explicitly, is constantly telling people what not to do, where not to go, and to stay in their place.
Ultimately, the East End is not built for community, for freedom, for creativity, for life. It is not designed for people to thrive.
Architecture Against Life ise an ongoing project. We begin by giving you a glimpse of how this looks in our immediate neighborhood.
We begin at home – literally right outside our door. Our view of the Martineau Estate looks picture perfect. Everything is in its place, trees are planted an exact distance apart, the green spaces neatly sectioned off and surrounded by a sea of brick and pavement, and the bushes and shrubs in front of people’s homes are carefully fenced around. It looks pretty… but that’s all that it is designed for. Looking pretty and organized.

Fences and walls are everywhere. Football and basketball courts are surrounded with cages, like this. Even the goals are made out of a cage. Playgrounds are fenced off, and very clearly specify what age of kids are allowed to play there. I’m not sure if all the fences are meant to protect the people inside or outside, but it sends a strong message that kids should play in these cordoned off areas, and nowhere else. God forbid a ball should accidentally leave the court.
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