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Despite my great interest in the Regency architecture of Brighton and Hove, it is not in fact my favourite style.

There’s a small picture shop on Nile Street in the Lanes where I first met Tamara de Lempicka; well, copies of her paintings anyway. This was quite a few years ago and I had no idea at the time what Art Deco meant. She painted fast cars, empowered women and mysterious men. The Art Deco movement was prevalent during the 1920s and 30s and manifested itself within various disciplines including architecture, interior design, fashion, art and car design. Despite there being no obvious connection between de Lempicka’s paintings and the buildings of the day, there certainly is one there. Even the architectural style itself is hard to define. Elements include, though this list is by no means exhaustive, high quality stone masonry, Terrazo floors, curved glass, bronze door furniture, flat roofs and intricate fenestration.

“It is worth noting that the Art Deco movement was heavily influenced by the 1922 discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb”

Bearing in mind the excitement surrounding the current Tutankhamen exhibition in London, it is worth noting that the Art Deco movement was heavily influenced by the 1922 discovery of that King’s tomb. Instead of travelling to Egypt though, last year, I went to New York to see some of the world’s most famous Art Deco buildings such as the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel and the Rockefeller Centre. On a smaller scale, Hove has several rather respectable Art Deco buildings of its own such as 4 Grand Avenue, Courtenay Gate on the seafront, and, on Furze Hill, both Wick Hall and Furze Croft.

Furze Croft and Wick Hall, two large residential blocks, were built across the road from each other during the 1930s by Bell Modern Flats; each on the site of a single house. Furze Croft replaced a house known variously as ‘Wick House’, ‘Wick Hill’ and ‘The Wick’. It is in fact made up of two adjoined but separate buildings with separate entrances and lift shafts. It has many of the features that I would expect of an Art Deco building – BMA (Bronze Metal Antique) door handles, Crittle windows with curved glass on the bays, and a steel frame.

It is not often that I approve of the destruction of a single house to make flats but Furze Croft and its Art Deco counterparts remind me that it’s not flats that I’m against; it’s bad buildings. Developers take note.

Building Opinions with Robert Stuart Nemeth

It’s hard to imagine Brighton having three piers at once when today it can’t even handle two.

Photo: Nigel Swallow. For an excellent selection of West Pier images log on to brightonphotography.com

The Chain Pier opened in 1823 by New Steine as principally a landing platform for large vessels. It closed in 1896 after having been declared unsafe but was then destroyed in a massive storm that same year. The West Pier opened in 1866 as a promenade pier though it was to change much over the years. The Palace Pier opened in 1899 though work actually commenced in 1889. So, for several years up to the destruction of the Chain Pier, there were three piers in Brighton. Admittedly, one wasn’t exactly complete. Hopefully, the term ‘Palace Pier’ has not confused any readers. The Palace Pier’s current owners, the Noble Organisation, are currently calling it ‘Brighton Pier’.

“As a point of principle, I struggle to understand how a Grade I Listed building can be treated so badly. Heads should roll”

I wish that I had paid more attention to the West Pier before the fires, It was/is one of only two Grade I Listed piers in the country; the other being Clevedon Pier. As a point of principle, I struggle to understand how a Grade I Listed building can be treated so badly. Heads should roll. It was opened by the mayor at the time, Henry Martin at a cost of £27,000 and a length of 1,115 feet. Its large pavilion was added in 1893 which was converted into a theatre in 1903. It was cut in half in 1940 to prevent enemy landings and then never really recovered. Richard Attenborough’s great film, Oh! What a Lovely War, was filmed there but it still closed in 1975. Fires in March and May 2003 reduced the Pier to just a skeletal frame and a storm in June 2004 led to its sad collapse.

Birch built his first pier in Margate in 1853 and went on to design others in Eastbourne, Bournemouth and Hastings – a total of 14, in fact.

His piers were fixed to the sea bed using his patented cast-iron screw-piles. He died in 1884 as one of the finest engineers of the Victorian era.

This column is intended as the first in a series that will hopefully end with some good news. I have been discussing with a responsible local builder his plans for a new West Pier. His proposal, unlike previous suggestions, contains no view-spoiling shore development. Watch this space for more news soon…

‘The city of a hundred spires’ had long been on my long list of places to visit…

…but, not wanting to greet the UK’s stag night ambassadors out there, I kept putting it off.

The inhabitants of Prague had an eventful 20th Century. The city was made the capital of Czechoslovakia when that country declared its independence from the Austro-Hungarian Empire after the First World War. The Nazis, who occupied the country during the Second World War, were soon replaced by the Communists who remained in power until 1989. In 1993, the country split into Slovakia and the Czech Republic, with Prague as its capital. The city’s dramatic past is mirrored in its wealth of architectural styles. From medieval to Art Deco, to Neo-classical, to modern and contemporary, most styles are well represented.

My good friend, Roland, and I booked our trip for three nights, beginning on a Monday night in order to avoid embarrassing louts. The drive from the airport was rather uneventful as was our walk from our suburban hotel to the city centre. Once we reached the river though, it was immediately clear what all of the fuss is about. The wide river, with its islands and famous bridges, is lined with grand structures. On the opposite bank, I then saw the building that I had been waiting for.

“The city’s dramatic past is mirrored in its wealth of architectural styles. From medieval to Art Deco, to Neo-classical, to modern and contemporary”

Several buildings in Prague really were to my taste such as the elegant Rudolfinum, the dominant St. Vitus Cathedral and the massive Prague Castle (the largest castle in the world apparently). The Petrin Tower up on the hill was simply good fun and is Prague’s very own Eiffel Tower, albeit at one-fifth of the size.

However, it was Vlado Milunic and Frank Gehry’s Dancing House that I had really come to see. Gehry is of course the architect who is responsible for the current King Alfred plans in Hove. The Dancing House was built from 1994–6 and replaced a Neo-Renaissance house that had been bombed during the Second World War. This modern icon does seem to respect its neighbours though. In fact, one of the next-door neighbours, a former Czech president, was a great supporter of the project. This is one of the rare examples of glass and concrete expanses holding their own alongside the classically-inspired.

Prague is beautiful and stunning. But, architectural fans, please behave yourselves out there – us Brits aren’t too popular with the locals already!

The Dome in Worthing is a very different building to the Dome in Brighton…

…which is unsurprising considering that it was built over one hundred years later. The Dome on Church Street in Brighton was originally built as stables for The Prince of Wales, lying behind his Marine Pavilion. Originally built in 1803-08 by William Porden it was converted into a concert hall in 1867. The Dome on the Worthing seafront – on the other hand – was originally built as a roller-skating rink in 1909 by T. A. Allen for the Swiss entrepreneur Carl A. Seebold. It was called the Kursaal at first but was renamed the Dome during the First World War because Kursaal sounded a little bit too Germanic.

Worthing’s Dome was converted into a 950 seat cinema in 1921 by Seebold. The town’s first cinema has unfortunately been demolished but its second, the Dome, is still going strong. It’s a funny-looking building actually. The tall domed octagonal tower is considered by English Heritage to be ‘one of the most complete surviving examples of an early cinema in the country’. The opulent Edwardian ceiling is studded with domes and cupolas and it is one of only a few cinemas still using carbon projectors – the original method of showing films. I was lucky enough to see Richard Attenborough’s Oh! What A Lovely War there, complete with ice-cream break, several years ago.

“It was called the Kursaal at first but was renamed the Dome during the First World War because Kursaal sounded a little bit too Germanic”

After being operated by a series of companies, the Dome was bought by Worthing Borough Council in 1963. In 1993, it suddenly closed following its failure to pass an electrical safety test. Many feared that it would never open again. It was rewired at a cost of £26,500 by Seeboard, regained its cinema licence and reopened to the relief of many. In 1994, the tower was demolished and rebuilt at a cost of over £300,000 when it was found that virtually all the steelwork above first floor level showed signs of bad corrosion and had to be replaced. Some 35,000 locals then signed a petition to save it from being sold by the Council to the Chapman Leisure Group. In 1996, it was upgraded from Grade II to II* Listed status amidst battles between various prospective buyers including Charlie Chaplin’s son, Eugene.

In 1999, the council sold the Dome to the Worthing Dome & Regeneration Trust Ltd for just £10 as part of a grand scheme to get the building back in shape. I can’t wait to see the project completed. For more information go to www.worthingdome.com.