The Demise of the 'Local'

Regular followers of my work may have noticed that I have a particular fascination with drawing public houses. I was commissioned to draw my first, the Tide End Cottage in Teddington, nearly 40 years ago. Since then, I have returned to them as subjects many times.

It’s not just their architectural character that attracts me, but also their presence within the communities they serve and the environments they inhabit. They often dominate the view, setting themselves apart as something special, something different from everything around them.

I suppose some of this obsession stems from my personal history. My formative years were spent in Fulham, Hammersmith, and Shepherd’s Bush, where you only had to walk 100 yards to reach the next pub. When I was first old enough to visit such establishments legally, there were seven pubs within a two-minute walk of my family home: The Royal Oak, The Bird in Hand, The Havelock Tavern, The Lord Nelson, The Old Parr’s Head, The Fox and Hounds, and, for the more adventurous (which involved crossing the busy railway lines at Olympia), The Kensington.

Of these, three have now gone, converted into flats or shops, or demolished altogether.

Back then, the pub was the centre of the community. The internet and social media were still many years away, and your ‘local’ was where you went to meet old and new friends, catch up on gossip, and argue about everything from football to politics. You felt safe and welcomed. It wasn’t a restaurant that also happened to sell beer; it was a social hub.

Now, I am no Luddite. I accept that change is inevitable, unavoidable, and sometimes even welcome. Naturally, I reminisce about the ‘good old days’, but I also recognise that progress is an unstoppable force. Nevertheless, I mourn not only the lost history and atmosphere of such places, but also their architectural splendour, which somehow loses its impact when converted into a convenience store or a house of multiple occupancy.

The smoking ban of 2007 was probably the first of many mortal blows. Although it was undoubtedly beneficial for public health, it radically changed the experience of ‘popping in for a swift one’. Coupled with soaring costs, increasing taxation, and rising business rates, many public houses began to struggle to make a living. Faced with unmanageable overheads, owners of historic buildings increasingly chose to convert their properties into residential units or alternative commercial spaces.

In their wake have come independent craft micropubs, which remind me a little of Ireland (my second home), where small premises, and sometimes even private homes, are common drinking establishments. They all serve an important role in keeping local social life alive but rarely possess the architectural presence of the traditional public house and make less compelling subjects for my illustrations.

I have been a resident of Southampton for the past 25 years, and during that time I have seen many of my favourite hostelries disappear: The Bassett, The Stoneham, and The Talking Heads, to name just a few. At the time of writing, there are still many establishments struggling to survive in this changing environment. The Joiners, Platform Tavern, Frog and Frigate, The Brook, and The Hobbit have all faced seemingly terminal challenges over the years yet have stubbornly endured. But for how much longer?

In my own small way, I am trying to preserve these beautiful buildings on paper before they disappear from our streets forever.