I've always liked Centrepoint. It may be because I have incredibly coarse architectural sensibilities and only ever think something's good if it looks like Gerry Anderson might have had a hand in it. It's looking particularly fine at the moment because it's exposed at the back due to some demolition work.
Apart from the proudly slabby way it looks, and the fact it's one of the few tall buildings in Central London, it's surrounded by pleasing atmos and conspiracy. It was empty for years when it opened, due to a shady/savvy real estate deal, which led to suspicions it doubled as a government nuclear shelter. It sits squat in the middle of St Giles which is the area of central London no-one's ever heard of but which is drenched in virulent and violent history so It's the kind of place yer Sinclairs and Ackroyds are keen on.
And it's fascinating because at street level it's a disaster, a horrible mash of bus-stops, cross-roads, traffic lights and a Thunderbirds-ish 60s sculpture in a litter-magnet pond. This seems to be a result of the above shady/savvy real estate deal.
And, in the basement, in the nasty subways under the traffic, leading to Tottenham Court Road tube, there's a brilliant snooker club where you can waste away a skiving afternoon.
Whenever we play that game where you fantasise about your dream home, I always mention Centrepoint. I'd dearly love a Tracy Family / James Bond penthouse pad on the top. Perhaps with a helipad. Certainly with a speed elevator down to the snooker club. And with speed-dial to Orbital, Foyles, Flat White and Argos. It seems though that I am to be thwarted; there's going to be a new private member's club called Paramount on the top two floors. I've never seen the point of such clubs, but in this context it makes sense. The perfect location, brilliant views, the right architectural atmospherics for swankery, a good place for a restaurant. I wonder if they'd let me live there. Just occasionally.
Speed dial to Flat White would have me bankrupt within a week. Nice idea though.
Posted by: Charlie Gower | January 07, 2008 at 09:22 PM
I think the place you dream of already exists - the Hilton in Manchester. Taller than Centrepoint, swanky penthouse on the top owned by the architect, a bar called Cloud 23 with views all over Manchester and at the bottom a classic Manchester pub called The Crown which I used to play pool in as child.
Posted by: Hugh Garry | January 08, 2008 at 01:19 AM
I spent many an afternoon playing snooker there when I worked at FCB just off Goodge St. Not a place for late at night though..
Posted by: Stan Lee | January 08, 2008 at 01:23 PM
i was always under the impression there was a swimming pool on the roof, but that might have been an urban legend...
Posted by: saul | January 08, 2008 at 04:43 PM
When I was living on Cleveland St, both the BT Tower and Centre Point served as trusty, heartwarming beacons on walks home from North London on many an occasion. Just wish I'd been able to visit the BT towers restaurant once when it was open.
Posted by: dboy | January 08, 2008 at 05:24 PM
You can still get into (and up) the BT Tower if you use your bonce - and there IS some shady stuff that goes on in Centre Point because my Dad used to work there and he had to sign the Official Secrets Act as a consequence - although I don't think he was ever told why.
I'll ask him.
Posted by: Tom. | January 09, 2008 at 04:31 PM
The building currently being demolished and affording you a better view of CentrePoint, was actually the Government Citadel of legend.
Posted by: Rich | January 11, 2008 at 01:33 PM
I asked him.
He said he never had to sign the Official Secrets Act.
Lying bastard. To be fair, he DID try to kill me before he told me - but I got out of the headlock.
Maybe he's dodging the question by insisting that I put the apostrophe in the right place - SECRETS'.
Either way he's lost all currency with me.
Posted by: Tom>> | January 15, 2008 at 01:47 PM
I regret that we never had a game of snooker there before I left London. Maybe when I visit next time ... I never went there, sadly. The nasty subway always had strange 'stalagtites' hanging from the damp ceiling - they still there?
I wrote a psychogeographically-flavoured post about the place a few years back:
http://www.cityofsound.com/blog/2004/11/close_to_the_ma.html
Posted by: Dan Hill | January 22, 2008 at 12:01 PM