In the middle of the eighteenth century Ralph Allen, who had both a Bath townhouse and the Prior Park estate in a fine landscape just out of town, erected a gothic eye-catcher on high ground above Bath.  The folly took the form of a turreted and castellated screen, unadorned at the back and intended only to be viewed from the city. By the end of the eighteenth century the folly had become known as the ‘Sham Castle’, and it has attracted the gaze of artists ever since it was built.

In 1755 the architect Sanderson Miller, known for fashionable landscape ornaments, was mooted as the ideal candidate to design Allen’s proposed ‘considerable Gothic Object’. However the folly was claimed as his own by Allen’s Clerk of Works, Richard Jones. In an account of his life Jones, wrote ‘in 1762 began the Castle in the warren, and was built in a quarter of a year to my plan’. To further complicate matters, the folly appears on an engraved prospect of Bath published in 1757. Hence the Flâneuse settling for mid-century as a date, and hoping for further evidence to emerge in due course. What is certain is that Allen died in 1764, so he had little time to enjoy his new landscape ornament.

By the middle of the nineteenth century the folly ‘had been allowed to fall into decay’. The two end towers were crumbling and this was blamed on boys who used the castle as a ‘rendezvous for games’.

The estate was still owned by the Allen family at this date, but financial aid to save the folly came from a different source. In 1880 a local paper noted that restoration was underway thanks to help from an unnamed female benefactor. It was only on her death in 1891 that the identity of the philanthropist became widely known: Mary Downing Russell Elliott (née Scott) had quietly, and unbeknownst to even her closest friends, funded a number of civic projects over the years.

Mrs Elliott’s investment allowed the two end towers of the Sham Castle to be rebuilt and the centre towers to be restored. She also funded the restoration of the obelisk and gardens in Orange Grove, next to Bath Abbey.

The Allen family sold the ‘remaining portion’ of their Bathampton estate at auction in March 1921. This included the Sham Castle and around an acre of ground. This parcel was bought by a Mr Candy, who purchased it with the farm he had tenanted, and from the start he was clear about his intentions of selling the folly soon after. That auction of the Sham Castle was held in June 1921, and various uses for the folly were suggested: a tea garden was a tempting proposition, but one rather alarming suggestion was that an ‘asbestos back’ might be added behind the facade to ‘convert the structure into a bungalow’.

Happily (in the latter instance) there was little interest, and the castle didn’t sell, but good news was soon to follow. In July the local paper reported that ‘Bathonians must have noted with much pleasure the announcement last Thursday that the Sham Castle has been purchased by two gentlemen for presentation to the City’. Mr Candy was given due credit for selling the folly at ‘preferential terms’.

Unlike Mrs Elliott, these donors were happy for their identities to be known, and a plaque was erected acknowledging their generous gift to the city. As the inscription records, some further restoration work was carried out in this period.

The Sham Castle has continued to catch the eye of artists. Richard Guyatt chose it as his subject when commissioned by Shell to produce an image for the ‘To Visit Britain’s Landmarks’ poster series, displayed on the sides of the company’s delivery lorries in the 1930s.

And completing four centuries of views of the landmark, Christopher Gee painted this view of the folly…

… and Ed Kluz depicted the folly in a vibrant collage.

If you are in Bath before 10 May, as well as climbing up to the folly for magnificent views (it is publicly accessible – just follow Sham Castle Lane) you can see Richard Guyatt’s view of the Sham Castle in Poster Power!, an excellent exhibition at the Victoria Art Gallery.

Thank you for reading. Comments, as ever, are welcome – just scroll down to the foot of the page to get in touch. 

In 1972 Mariga Guinness, or Mrs Desmond Guinness as she was known in more formal times, wrote an article on follies for Ireland of the Welcomes, a publication produced by the Irish Tourist Board to promote Ireland as a holiday destination. Launched in 1952, it is still published today and describes itself as ‘the largest and longest-running Irish interest magazine in the world’. Hermione Maria-Gabrielle von Urach (1932-1989), known as Mariga, married Desmond Guinness in 1954 and they moved to Ireland the following year. Mrs Guinness loved Ireland, and threw herself into preserving the architectural heritage – she and her husband co-founded the Irish Georgian Society in 1958. The couple first rented the Georgian mansion Carton House, and later bought Leixlip Castle, both home to garden ornaments, so Mrs Guinness was well-placed to write in praise of follies.

Accompanying the text is a delicious map which was drawn by Jan de Fouw (1929-2015), a Dutch-born graphic designer and illustrator who settled in Ireland in 1951. From 1952 to 1996 he was the freelance designer of Ireland of the Welcomes. As well as featuring in the magazine the map was published as a stand-alone guide to Irish follies, complete with a county-by-county list of what to see. Mrs Guinness didn’t give exact locations believing, as the Flâneuse does, that ‘Folly-hunting must be regarded as an exploratory adventure’.

Mrs Guinness opens her article with the assertion that ‘there are more follies to the acre in Ireland than anywhere else in the world’. The Flâneuse doubts that anyone has ever tried to prove or disprove this bold claim, but there is no denying that Ireland has both quantity and quality. Mrs Guinness thought that ‘folly-hunting appears to be a totally neglected facet of Irish travel’ and as Ireland of the Welcomes was mainly aimed at the U.S. market, one hopes that American tourists took up her challenge to explore Ireland’s arbours, grottoes, towers and shell-houses.

The first folly Mrs Guinness mentions in her text is the Conolly Folly in County Kildare. This unique structure was built by Katherine Conolly (1662-1752, born Conyngham) in 1740 to terminate a vista, and to provide work and food for the local population in a time of need.

It is attributed to the architect Richard Castle (d.1751) and stood on high ground in the Castletown demesne – or rather it stood near the Castletown estate. Apparently Mrs Conolly (widow of William, reputedly the richest commoner in Ireland) discovered too late that she didn’t own the plot on which the obelisk was built: it was just over the Castletown demesne boundary, and was actually on Carton estate land. Marked on a mid-eighteenth century map as ‘Obelisk’, it soon became known as the Conolly Folly or Conolly’s Folly.

Carton was Mariga Guinness’s first Irish home, and although she moved to other properties it would become her last: she was buried beneath the folly in 1989. Her memory lives on in the many properties and follies she actively campaigned to save, and in the ongoing work of the Irish Georgian Society. And 52 years after it was first published, her article recently guided the Folly Flâneuse on a fabulous flit around some of the follies of Ireland (watch this space).

The Conolly Folly is now a national monument in the care of the state. It was among the first buildings to be restored by the Irish Georgian Society in 1962, and was adopted as their logo. There is public access, but unlike the contented visitors in the early photograph above, you will not be able to get up close: ugly security fencing protects the monument from vandals.

The view to the Conolly Folly is now obstructed by mature trees, but the tip of the obelisk can be seen peeking above the verdure from some distance.

For a wonderful tribute to Mariga Guinness see https://theirishaesthete.com/2014/05/05/marvellous-mariga/

There’s more on Ireland of the Welcomes here https://irelandofthewelcomes.com

Regular readers might remember that the Flâneuse is a huge fan of artist Ed Kluz. If you are anywhere near Bath before the 22nd of June go and see his new sculptural pieces at Berdoulat at 8 St Margaret’s Buildings in the city centre. Here’s a taste of what you might see, and more works can be seen at https://www.edkluz.co.uk

Thank you for reading. As ever, your thoughts are very welcome. Please scroll down to the comments box to get in touch. Please note that only your name will appear – your email address remains private.

Bretton Hall, near Wakefield, is now best known as the home of the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, where artworks have been displayed in the open air, and in purpose built galleries, since 1977. But long before these works arrived, the park was home to a collection of ornamental garden buildings, including the enchanting tiered tower called Bella Vista.

Bretton Hall was the seat of the Wentworth family, and in the second half of the 18th century Sir Thomas Wentworth (later Wentworth Blackett, 1725-1792) remodelled the park with lakes, planting and follies, including a double-faced temple (see link below) and a grotto. Bella Vista  (sometimes Belle Vista) was probably designed by John Carr of York, who was active at Bretton in the 1760s and 70s, and representations on estate maps from the early 19th century show that a tiered structure was built, close to this original design.

Bella Vista stood high above the mansion, with sweeping views across the Bretton parkland and beyond, and was backed by woodland called the Bella Vista Plantation. Although constructed to this elaborate design as an eye-catcher from the house and pleasure grounds below, Bella Vista was also a belvedere, a destination for carriage rides and picnics, and it it also had a more practical function as a lodge.

By 1881 it was home to a family of 11 – George Wilkinson, a labourer, his wife, and 9 children between the ages of 2 months and 24 years of age called Bella Vista Lodge their home. This remarkable feat was achieved by covering in the open arcade at ground level (which originally housed the stairs to the upper stories), and creating a series of small rooms to augment the existing internal spaces. An ingenious use of space, but it must still have been a bit of a squeeze. The upper tiers were probably removed at the time of this conversion.

Bella Vista fell into disrepair after the Second World War when Bretton Park had been requisitioned, and was demolished as unsafe in the 1950s. Only the entrance drive and gate piers survive.

The lost building was recreated a few years ago by two of the Folly Flâneuse’s favourite artists. In 2017-2018 the Yorkshire Sculpture Park held an exhibition of work by Ed Kluz, called Sheer Folly: Fanciful Buildings of Britain. To accompany the show Ed produced this delightful limited edition screen print of Bella Vista by moonlight:

Complementing Ed’s work, the exhibition also featured an exquisite miniature silver model of the folly by Vicky Ambery-Smith, who creates jewellery and small decorative pieces in silver and gold.

Bretton Hall is currently being converted into a hotel by property developers Rushbond (let’s hope they name a bedroom the ‘Bella Vista Room’, as was the case when it was a family home).

The gardens and pleasure grounds of Bretton Hall are home to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park https://ysp.org.uk. The site of Bella Vista is not within the YSP but can be seen from a public footpath.

For more on Ed Kluz see https://www.edkluz.co.uk and you can buy the screen print here https://penfoldpress.co.uk/products/bella-vista

You can see more of Vicky Ambery-Smith’s work here http://www.vickiamberysmith.co.uk

If you would like to share any thoughts or information, please scroll down to the comments box. Thank you for reading.

At Salthouse, on the Norfolk coast, there once stood a rather doleful looking little building. It was built by Onesipherus Randall (1798-1873), a local boy who became a London publican and then made a fortune in property speculation: in a superb case of nominative determinism Onesipherus means ‘bringing profit’.

Randall’s main residence was in Poplar, East London, where he developed residential property, but in around 1861 he bought a house in Holt called Woodlands (now part of Gresham’s School), and in 1870 he bought the Manor of Kelling and Salthouse. When he built the folly that bore his name is less clear.

The 1838 tithe map for Salthouse shows ‘Lodge and Greenburrow Hills’, close to the shore of the ‘German Ocean’, as the property of Phoebe Maria Girdleton, whose family owned nearby Kelling Hall. The 1st series Ordnance Survey map of 1841 shows ‘Old Lodge’ on ‘Lodge Hill’, so there was a building of some description on the site by then. An exact date for Randall’s association with the folly seems hard to find, and the first account discovered to date that specifically links him to the building is 5 years after his death, when it is described as ‘the house built […] by the late O. Randall Esq.’ Presumably Randall used it as a beach retreat, but no evidence has been found. It did however go on to have a very interesting, and practical, purpose.

After Randall’s death in 1873 the building was bought for use as a coastguard station with a cannon (or rocket) ready to fire a Breeches Buoy lifesaving device, quickly becoming known as the Rocket House. The cannon fired a line to a stricken boat – the line was attached to the mast and allowed passengers to be pulled to safety. The local newspapers reported on the many lives saved, including those onboard the Peter of Riga and the Hey Dick of Goole in 1874. Shortly after the Captain of the Hey Dick, his crew, and his family (‘a woman with a babe at her breast and five children clinging round her’), were rescued rumours began to circulate that the Salthouse rocket brigade was to be disbanded by the Board of Trade. The brigade did not give up, and raised funds locally to buy their own kit, using it to save the crew of the John & Harriet in 1878.‘Why the rocket apparatus should be removed from Salthouse when there are men ready and willing to work it […] is difficult to understand’, was the perplexed comment of the Norfolk Chronicle’s reporter.

By the 1920s the building had become a holiday home and was marked on the Ordnance Survey maps as Beach Lodge, although still known locally as ‘Randall’s Folly’ or the ‘Old Rocket House’. In 1931 it was offered for sale: the ‘unique situation overlooking the sea’ came with 2 acres of land, and the agents thought it ideal for pursuits such as fishing and shooting.

Over the winter of 1950-51 the folly was home to the writer Sylvia Townsend Warner (1893-1978) and her poet partner Valentine Ackland (1906-1969), both of whom enjoyed sojourns on the Norfolk coast. They were looking for a seaside rental and, loving the building on first sight, ‘instantly decided to take it – much to the bewildered exhilaration of the owners, who do not often find such maniacs’. The eccentric house, by now known as the Great Eye Folly (after the mound of land on which it stood), had no drinking water, but did have a Bechstein, and the couple were very happy there while Warner worked on her last novel, The Flint Anchor.*

In November 1950 Warner wrote that she would like to live there forever, but accepted that no one would be that lucky, ‘for in five years the sea will have eaten it.’ Sadly she was over-optimistic. There was a great flood in January 1953, and Warner saw an aerial photograph of the devastation in her newspaper. She recognised the village of Salthouse, and could see that ‘crazy Great Eye Folly, right on the sea edge, still stands’. Sadly, she was only partly right: what she couldn’t have seen in the birdseye view was that half of the building had been washed away in the storm, and the remainder was deemed unsafe and demolished soon after.

Local fisherman-turned-artist John Craske also captured the Breeches Buoy process in action in the unusual medium of embroidery. Craske (1881-1943) was in poor health, and when painting became too much for him he began to stitch, an activity he could manage from his bed. ‘Rescue by Breeches Buoy’, showing one of the cannon-fired lines in use, was appropriately in the collection of Sylvia Townsend Warner and Valentine Ackland. It is now in the care of Britten Pears Arts, Warner being a great friend of Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears.

Onesipherous Randall, he of the memorable name, is largely forgotten. Sylvia Townsend Warner remains such a local hero that one of the Coasthopper buses that serve the north Norfolk coast is named after her.

* The Folly Flâneuse diligently read the novel, hoping that a thinly-disguised version of the folly might make an appearance. Sadly not, although there is the briefest of mentions of a shell-encrusted summerhouse, orangery, chapel, and mausoleum.

There’s a photo of the folly after the storm here www.salthousehistory.co.uk/1953(2).html

For more on John Craske see A Life in Threads by Julia Blackburn (2015).

Thank you for reading. The Folly Flâneuse welcomes feedback, please scroll down to the comments box below.

1814 saw the centenary of the ascension of the House of Hanover to the British throne. Although it was only a few years since George III had celebrated a reign of 50 years, it was decided that a grand national fête would be held in August to mark the occasion, an event which would also commemorate ‘General Peace’ and the anniversary of the ‘Glorious Battle of the Nile’.

The whole of the pageantry in St James’ Park was superintended by Sir William Congreve M.P.; his prowess developing rockets for warfare in the earlier years of the century presumably qualifying him to design the pyrotechnics. The centrepiece was a vast stage-set ‘castle’ which thanks to painted transparencies, lighting and fireworks dramatically transformed from a martial fortress into a Temple of Concord, illustrating Britain’s path from war to peace. The vignettes above illustrate the spectacles and festivities that drew huge crowds to the park.

Another showpiece was the ‘beautiful Chinese bridge’ that was built over the canal. On it was constructed an ‘elegant and lofty pagoda, consisting of seven pyramidal stories’. It was illuminated with gaslights and formed the centrepiece of a huge fireworks display ‘both fixed and missile.’ The canal was the scene of mock naval battles, and there were also pleasure craft in which the public could view the scene from the water. Bands played, and there were food stalls and magnificent marquees in which to dine. Such was the excitement around the celebrations that publishers took presses to the park to issue some prints on the spot.

Sadly timber buildings, fireworks and flaming gas lamps are not good companions, and as midnight approached the pagoda went up in flames, causing two deaths and a number of injuries to the men who were supervising the display. By the time the fire was extinguished the tower was reduced to only one storey and had become ‘a melancholy wreck of its former elegance’. Print makers were quick to issue a reworked view showing the conflagration.

The pagoda was not rebuilt, the bridge was taken down a few years later, and the temporary structures were largely forgotten until the late 1960s when the artist Barbara Jones was asked to design a mural for a new cafe in St. James’ Park. The Cake House, which replaced an earlier cafe of the same name, was designed by Eric Bedford of the Ministry of Public Buildings and Works, and the cafe deliberately echoed the shape of the marquees erected in 1814.

For the interior Jones created a design for a mural based on the history of the park, with the ornamental buildings of the Grand Jubilee playing a major part. Another of the themes was cows, which traditionally had been kept in the park to provide milk for visitors.

According to Building magazine the mural was executed in ceramic tiles by ‘Richard Parkinson Associates’, presumably the Richard Parkinson better known as a creator of ceramic figures in partnership with his wife, Susan. This company name appears only in this magazine feature of 1970, so the associates were probably Parkinson, Jones, and her assistant Tony Raymond. They were apparently credited in the cafe, but like the rest of the mural this is long gone. The thick file on the building of the cafe, now held in the National Archives, contains a memo which notes only that the interior wall is to be ‘finished in blue mosaic tiles’. No designer or contractor for this work is mentioned.

The refreshment pavilion was officially opened by Mary Wilson, wife of Prime Minister Harold, in February 1970 (apparently she took daily walks in the park whilst resident at No. 10). The blue and white tiles were accentuated by white pedestal tables and fashionable polypropylene stacking chairs in charcoal, light grey and deep blue. Featured in The Daily Mirror a few days after opening the mural was ignored, although the exterior (‘looks like a rather gay tent’) was admired. The queues for the new-fangled self-service system did not go down well, and the reviewer was not impressed by the ‘lukewarm’ soup, or indeed the gateau which was ‘a bit mushy’.

The Cake House survived for more years than the pagoda, but by the end of the 20th century it was considered outmoded with ‘insurmountable functional and structural issues’, and was demolished to make way for Inn the Park, which opened in 2004.

Building within a historic park has always led to criticism. In 1969, as the Cake House was under construction, the Architects’ Journal thought the structure ‘far too intrusive’ for its location in the gardens. In 1998 Sir Michael Hopkins designed its replacement, Inn the Park. The Architects’ Journal reported that it too was ‘wholly unsuited to the site’ but thirty years on, fashion being fickle, the old Cake House was now remembered with fondness for fitting into ‘the landscape as a folly or surprise’.

Big thanks to artist Ed Kluz whose recent show at the John Martin Gallery in London featured the Pagoda bridge and awakened my interest. Read more here https://www.jmlondon.com/exhibitions/facades-by-ed-kluz/

Barbara Jones’s series of designs for the Cake House mural can be seen at Neil Jennings Fine Art’s forthcoming show of works of art on paper by Twentieth Century British women artists at Fisher London, Grays Inn Road Wednesday 20th November- Saturday 30th November 11am-6pm (closed Sunday). For further information follow Neil on instagram @neiljenningsfineart or email neiljennings20@gmail.com

For more on the history of London’s public parks there’s a new show at the charming Garden Museum from 20 November 2019 https://gardenmuseum.org.uk/exhibitions/play-protest-and-pelicans-a-peoples-history-of-londons-royal-parks/

Inn the Park remains but is now a branch of the Benugo chain https://www.benugo.com/partnerships/public-spaces/parks/st-jamess

Studley Royal, near Ripon, stays comfortably in the upper reaches of the list of most-visited National Trust properties, helped by the fact that the landscape garden features that epitome of eye-catchers, Fountains Abbey. But only a few miles away from Studley’s shops and scones is Hackfall, a tranquil vale* which is sublime, romantic and wild – and totally devoid of facilities. Both were created in the 18th century by the Aislabie family of Studley.

Hackfall was created in woodland on the bank of the river Ure and was dotted with follies, each with vistas – to the river, to Masham church spire, or to the other ornamental buildings. There was no house at Hackfall, as it was a pleasure ground that could easily be reached by carriage from Studley, and as one contemporary postulated:  ‘It is experimentally known that a long residence, even in the most romantic scenes, is apt to cloy: so the owner wisely has prevented all risk of satiety, by adapting his edifices to a visit only of a few hours.’

Today you have to visit the Village Hall in nearby Grewelthorpe for (excellent) refreshments, but in the 18th century Hackfall’s pavilions and alcoves provided shelter where light meals could be taken. If something grander were required, two of the follies had detached kitchens in which meals could be prepared. The remains of that by Mowbray Point, high above the valley, can still be seen.

The second kitchen, now lost, serviced Fisher’s Hall – one of The Folly Flâneuse’s favourite buildings. The ‘rotund room in which the family often dine’ was thatched in 1749 and completed in 1750 – a stone above the entrance bears that date and the initials of William Aislabie. It was lined with ‘that sort of stone which is commonly called petrifyed moss and roots which they dig near it’, and thatched with ling (heather). Guests sat at a horseshoe shaped table inside the octagon, from which there were ‘the finest and most picturesque views’, through the pointed gothic windows and door.

Hackfall soon became very popular and the earliest tourists (only the rich and influential were able to take tours at this date) could gain admission by calling at a cottage where the gardener, a Mr Hardcastle, would show them around. One visitor was moved to write some lines, and in this extract imagines the rustic summerhouse as a hermit’s retreat:

Fast by this stream, and in the thickest shade,
A straw-roofed cot appears with ivy bound,
The walls with cells and vary’d moss overlaid,
And rough-hewn altars mark’d the hallow’d ground.

Here haply dwells some hoary-headed seer,
Far from the guilty clouds’ tumultuous din,
Here lost in soft musings wears the silent year,
Estrang’d alike to passion and to sin.

The reality was that you were far more likely to bump into elegant travellers having ‘PicNic parties’  – in 1786 one visitor was delighted to bump into William Wilberforce drinking tea.

The inns in the closet towns of Harrogate and Ripon arranged transport by carriage to Hackfall, and stabling was provided both inside and outside of the grounds. However, it’s not clear how many visitors took their lead from The Hon. Miss Cust who arrived by donkey in 1840.

The woodland garden remained a favourite destination throughout the 19th century. By this date visitors taking tea at the Mowbray Point ‘refreshment house’ had another attraction to enjoy, Hackfall being ‘celebrated for its cream cheese’. With the advent of the motor engine further visitors arrived by car and Groups by charabanc.

Descendants of the Aislabies sold the pleasure ground in the 1930s. Hackfall was forgotten, and fell into disrepair as the 20th century progressed: the buildings became ruined, paths became overgrown and the trees were felled. In the 1980s the Hackfall Trust was formed, and it worked with the Woodland Trust and the local community and councils to halt further damage. Grants from various bodies, especially the Heritage Lottery Fund, allowed the partial restoration of Hackfall during the 1990s and the first decade of the current century. Fisher’s Hall and the other abandoned structures were consolidated to ensure their survival, whilst Mowbray Point, the banqueting house overlooking the woods and river, was beautifully restored by the Landmark Trust as a holiday let, now called The Ruin.

If you are in the area before 4 November there’s a lovely little exhibition at the nearby Masham Gallery celebrating Hackfall in a variety of media. http://www.mashamgallery.co.uk/hidden-hackfall.html

For Hackfall information http://www.hackfall.org.uk

And the Village Hall cafe http://www.grewelthorpe.org.uk/Village-Hall

Mowbray Point aka The Ruin is a Landmark Trust property and there’s more here https://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/search-and-book/properties/ruin-10176#Overview

* if you avoid weekends and school holidays

Writing in Tatler magazine in 1961 the writer, and champion of the British countryside, Ronald Blythe, questioned why follies were common in the countryside, but seldom found in the city. Long before the ‘concrete and glass’ that constituted the cities in Blythe’s mind, costly and extravagant ornamental structures could be found on the streets of the capital. These were the triumphal arches built to celebrate the coronation of a new monarch.

Three arches, created as part of the pomp and pageantry surrounding the coronation of James I, feature in a new exhibition by internationally acclaimed artist Ed Kluz. Facades, his new show at the John Martin Gallery in Mayfair, looks at London and includes ‘reconstructions’, in paper collage and oil, of the arches. Always intended to be temporary additions to the London streets, they were built in wood and then plastered, painted, and peopled with ‘engines’ – automata animated from behind the scenes.

The James I coronation pageant was a cause for particular celebration, as it had been postponed due to an outbreak of plague. The 1603 epidemic, coming soon after James I had inherited the throne, caused devastation in London and further afield. The festivities were held over until the following year, when they also marked the city’s recovery and resilience.

Stephen Harrison, architect of the arches, thought his designs would live on only in ‘the tongues and memories of men’, but he hadn’t counted on London’s flourishing print trade. The James I arches were recorded for posterity in a series of annotated engravings, thus allowing Ed Kluz’s programme of ‘rebuilding’ in 2019.

The tradition of building temporary triumphal arches continued over the centuries, as did the publishing of plates:

©Victoria and Albert Museum, E.424_1898. Triumphal arch designed by William Kent. Erected and painted on the West End of Westminster Stall for the Coronation of his Majesty King George the Second and Queen Caroline. October the 11th 1727.

A new take on the genre was Eric Bedford’s design for illuminated steel arches across The Mall at the coronation of the Queen Elizabeth II.

To see Ed’s vibrant works and learn more, you will need to visit the John Martin Gallery on Albemarle Street before 5 October. As a further incentive other works include palaces, pleasure pavilions and pagodas.

https://www.jmlondon.com/exhibitions/facades-by-ed-kluz/

James Wyatt produced plans for a ‘Saxon Hexagon Tower’ for the 6th Earl of Coventry in the last years of the 18th century. After his death in 1809 it was sold and over the following centuries it became the home of a printing workshop, a retreat for members of the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and a farmhouse. In 1974 it became the centrepiece of a country park, and it remains so today.

Of course nothing you have read above is news. Broadway tower is one of the best loved follies in Britain, having appeared in countless films and tv programmes. The very flexible tower has even featured in a recent advertisement for property developer Aldermore.

The reason The Folly Flâneuse is featuring it here is because without this tower there would not be the book that is by every folly-spotters side: Follies, Grottoes & Garden Buildings.

Broadway Tower captured Gwyn Headley’s imagination as a child and he remained passionate about the subject, first publishing a book about follies in 1986 with Dutchman Wim Meulenkamp as co-author. In FG&GB they updated their original research and presented it in a gazetteer format, so that the book is fabulously user-friendly. 2019 sees the twentieth anniversary of its publication, and The Folly Flâneuse thinks this is a cause for celebration. Cheers!

Gwyn is shown above, aged 5,  looking loathe to leave Broadway Tower. Wim’s introduction to the genre came aged 13 when he was intrigued by the sham wooden bridge at Kenwood, near London.

When studying at Utrecht University in the 1970s, Wim took a module on the English landscape park and headed to the library to write a paper on Rousham. On the shelves he discovered Barbara Jones’s Follies and Grottoes and he too was hooked.

His doctoral subject was Mad Jack Fuller, creator of these wonderful follies at Brightling in Sussex, and he recalls that ‘whilst everyone else did their postgraduate theses on colour schemes in Siennese painting 1535-1560, and the like, we actually had inordinate fun.’

A mere two decades later Gwyn Headley and Wim Meulenkamp are working on a new book – good things come to those who wait. In the meantime, you can hear Gwyn and Wim talk at an event organised by The Folly Fellowship in London this autumn. Final details are to be confirmed but keep checking the website for details http://follies.org.uk/index.php/this-year/

More on the Broadway Tower here https://broadwaytower.co.uk

The sham bridge at Kenwood has just emerged from restoration https://www.hamhigh.co.uk/news/environment/kenwood-house-sham-bridge-restoration-almost-finished-1-5874808

Ed Kluz, who kindly shared his photos of Brightling is an internationally acclaimed artist whose work often features follies. Visit his website or follow him on instagram @edkluz https://www.edkluz.co.uk. He will reappear in these pages before too long.

Recently opened at The Scottish Gallery, in Edinburgh’s handsome New Town, is Place Makers, a new show featuring the work of artists Ed Kluz and Vicki Ambery-Smith.

For this joint show they have taken inspiration from some of Scotland’s quirkiest buildings, including perhaps the most astonishing folly in Britain, The Pineapple, which Vicki has reinvented as a brooch in silver and yellow gold. The Pineapple folly was built as a summer-house from 1761 the Earl of Dunmore’s seat near Stirling, and is a Landmark Trust property.https://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/search-and-book/properties/pineapple-10726

Ed and Vicki have also explored doocots, or dovecotes to those south of the border (although ducket appears in northern England). These take many forms but that at Saltoun Hall, 15 miles from Edinburgh, is full of architectural interest. Ed has used scraperboard to create his characteristic atmospheric view of the building.

The castellated and turreted doocot is attributed to architect William Burn who added similar embellishments to the mansion at Saltoun at the turn of the 19th century. The ‘Pigeon house’ is shown on Forrest’s Map of Haddingtonshire, surveyed in 1799 and published in 1802. As pigeon meat was less essential as a foodstuff by this period doocots began to take on more fanciful and romantic forms as eye-catchers in the landscape. Thanks Ed for introducing the Folly Flâneuse to this charming gothic example.

The exhibition continues until 28 October https://scottish-gallery.co.uk/exhibitions/place-makers1

Dated 1792, the temple in the park of Swinithwaite Hall was built as a banqueting house and belvedere to enjoy ‘the most strikingly beautiful and picturesque scenery of the valley and the whole range of its western mountains’. The valley in question is that of the river Ure, and the most dramatic feature of the vista was the ‘grand and majestic falls […] over the rocks of Aysgarth’, a view that is still partially intact today.

The temple was a short ride away from the hall and set within its own miniature pleasure ground with ‘ornamental timber and shrubberies.’ A panel above the door shows a talbot, a breed of dog associated with hunting, suggesting that the temple may also have been used as a grandstand for watching the chase in the valley below.

It was built for the Anderson family of Swinithwaite, almost certainly to a design by John Foss of Richmond who worked on the house at around the same date. As one contemporary visitor wrote, it was considered a great extravagance, albeit a most stylish one:

‘The building of this elegant temple at the cost of £800 merely for the sake of enjoying the prospect more at ease or over a dish of tea was considered by all who knew him as highly imprudent in Mr A who had not an income of more than £1000 per annum. It was however an unequivocal mark of his taste.’

Hooray for imprudent folly builders!

Restored in the 1990s, the temple is now a holiday let http://www.wensleydale-experience.com/Farm-Stays/Temple-Folly

The image top is reproduced courtesy of the artist Ed Kluz who, like the Folly Flâneuse, is passionate about the ornamental structures that decorate our landscape. It featured in his solo show Ed Kluz: Sheer Folly – Fanciful Buildings of Britain at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 11 November 2017-25 February 2018 http://www.edkluz.co.uk