Tower Hamlets Archives display press cuttings from East London Advertiser. I am sadly unable to share images of these as copyright restrictions apply but I encourage you to visit the archives and have included links to facilitate your visit above and I have transcribed excerpts of this material below.
Sue Roalman, East London Advertiser, 21.7.1978
The 400-odd residents of Balfron Towers in Poplar have something in common with Tory housing boss George Tremlett: they agree that high-rise living, at its worse, can be a ghastly and isolating experience.
Speaking at a meeting of high-powered planners from the Royal Institute of British Architects, Mr. Tremlett last week lambasted his audience for deigning high-rise blocks ‘almost unspeakable in their ghastliness.’
And he pin-pointed Balfrom [sic] Towers - looming 25 stories high on the edge of Northern Approach to the Blackwall Tunnel - as an example of the worst in high rise design.
“Tiptoe through the mess beneath Balfron Towers and see the legacy your profession has left,” he challenged them.
Whether or not the designers took up the challenge, the Advertiser was down there this week.
From the vacant depths of the garage, I shot straight to the top floor (the lift was working, but reportedly had only just been fixed) where the corridors were neat and tidy, but eerily empty.
Fifty-nine-year-old Harold Byford, who has lived alone, at the top for two years, says he feels like a “battery chicken in a box” in his flat. He rarely sees his neighbours, but admits that is partly his fault, as he has only once knocked at a neighbours’s door. That was on Christmas.
Still, he believes the design of the flats has contributed to the ‘indifference’ which people tend to show towards one another; and which he feels, follows from being physically isolated.
“Once I locked myself out of my flat and had to smash the front window to get in, Mr Byford recalled. “Did anyone stick their head out of the door to see what was happening?” He shakes his head. No one.
Such a “keep yourself to yourself” attitude has made Balfron Towers easy pickings for vandals and thieves. Mr. Byford has twice been burgled.
At the other end of the age spectrum, 31/2 year-old Sian Godwin has also lived at Balfron for two years in her short life. And her mother, 21 year old Kerry Godwin, thinks the strain is starting to show in her daughter’s behaviour.
“She gets ever so aggressive and destructive being cooped up in the flat all day,” said Ms. Godwin. “She never gets the chance to play with children her age, because there’s just no where to take them around here.”
Ms. Godwin, a single parent with another child, two-year-old Nicholas, says the difficulty for all of them is enormous, particularly because the flat is so poorly designed for children.
The window opens at the bottom, so either one could fall out if I weren’t watching,” she says. “My only hope is to get Sian into a nursery soon so she will have a chance to play safely with other children.”
And growing to adulthood in a city environment where such remarks as made by George Tremlett have had some effect, one might add.
Sue Roalman, East London Advertiser
The 400-odd residents of Balfron Towers in Poplar have something in common with Tory housing boss George Tremlett: they agree that high-rise living, at its worse, can be a ghastly and isolating experience.
From the vacant depths of the garage, I shot straight to the top floor (the lift was working, but reportedly had only just been fixed) where the corridors were neat and tidy, but eerily empty.
Fifty-nine-year-old Harold Byford, who has lived alone, at the top for two years, says he feels like a “battery chicken in a box” in his flat. He rarely sees his neighbours, but admits that is partly his fault, as he has only once knocked at a neighbours’s door. That was on Christmas.
Still, he believes the design of the flats has contributed to the ‘indifference’ which people tend to show towards one another; and which he feels, follows from being physically isolated.
“Once I locked myself out of my flat and had to smash the front window to get in, Mr Byford recalled. “Did anyone stick their head out of the door to see what was happening?” He shakes his head. No one.
Such a “keep yourself to yourself” attitude has made Balfron Towers easy pickings for vandals and thieves. Mr. Byford has twice been burgled.
At the other end of the age spectrum, 31/2 year-old Sian Godwin has also lived at Balfron for two years in her short life. And her mother, 21 year old Kerry Godwin, thinks the strain is starting to show in her daughter’s behaviour.
“She gets ever so aggressive and destructive being cooped up in the flat all day,” said Ms. Godwin. “She never gets the chance to play with children her age, because there’s just no where to take them around here.”
Ms. Godwin, a single parent with another child, two-year-old Nicholas, says the difficulty for all of them is enormous, particularly because the flat is so poorly designed for children.
The window opens at the bottom, so either one could fall out if I weren’t watching,” she says. “My only hope is to get Sian into a nursery soon so she will have a chance to play safely with other children.”
Sue Roalman, East London Advertiser
The 400-odd residents of Balfron Towers in Poplar have something in common with Tory housing boss George Tremlett: they agree that high-rise living, at its worse, can be a ghastly and isolating experience.
Speaking at a meeting of high-powered planners from the Royal Institute of British Architects, Mr. Tremlett last week lambasted his audience for deigning high-rise blocks ‘almost unspeakable in their ghastliness.’
And he pin-pointed Balfrom Towers - looming 25 stories high on the edge of Northern Approach to the Blackwall Tunnel - as an example of the worst in high rise design.
“Tiptoe through the mess beneath Balfron Towers and see the legacy your profession has left,” he challenged them.
Whether or not the designers took up the challenge, the Advertiser was down there this week.
From the vacant depths of the garage, I shot straight to the top floor (the lift was working, but reportedly had only just been fixed) where the corridors were neat and tidy, but eerily empty.