Design fault 1
Twee are not amused
Nicky Haslam gets an eyeful of the Queen Mother's new memorial gates It turns out that all the uniformly chic black London railings were so painted as one of those myriad marks of respect to the Prince Consort on his death in 1861. Before that, the capital's ironwork was rainbow-hued . . . imagine! But, in a rever- sal of this 130-year-old habit — even though less than a mile away Prince Albert's multi-coloured Memorial stands mouldering, encased in a scaffold nearly as expensive as the apparently unfundable repairs to the Memorial itself — London is about to be treated to an eyeful of glitz whose glare not even the blackest Raybans can diminish.
Created, one would swear, by the makers of My Little Pony, based on a design by Norman Hartnell's embroiderers with addi- tional artistic input from Dame Edna, and forged in Elfland, the Queen Elizabeth Gates now bestride (well, not bestride exactly, as there is something infinitely twee about their footfall) the South Car- riageway in Hyde Park, within spitting dis- tance of Decimus Burton's classical screen and mellow, manly Apsley House. From every angle of approach, this restrained backdrop of appropriately citified architec- ture is infringed by the raucous sprawl of John W. Mills ARCA FRBS's latest Dis- neyesque gentility.
The Queen Elizabeth Gates were con- ceived as a timely and touching tribute to his Majestic and Imperial aunty by Prince Michael of Kent, who was absolutely right to believe that the country should honour her with a memorial in her lifetime. Some of the costs having been met by public sub- scription, it says a lot for Prince Michael's powers of organisation that these gates were created at all, let alone erected in comparatively record time (it would have been even quicker, but apparently the con- tractors put the pier foundations a few feet off the designated spot and were made to relocate them). But did Prince Michael or anyone else, myself included, when looking at the model, foresee that the reality would be quite so out of keeping?
If a memorial is meant intrinsically to reflect its subject, this one should contain some classic reference to the Queen Moth- er's matriarchal qualities, her stoicism, her steadfastness. But no. It's all whoopsy pipe- cleaners of bent chrome, adorned by (easily vandalisable) knots and twiddles, and inter- spersed with youthful 'symbols' — and some not so youthful: even that naughty, throat-catching fish is there.
Furthermore, the name of the Queen Elizabeth Gates is a worry. To most people outside the most intimate royal circles, Queen Elizabeth means the Queen, and her mother is the Queen Mother. These gates will surely be thought by the public to be a memorial to the Queen herself. When they both unveil the gates next week, might they not wish the appellation clearer, the memorial itself more suitable? Less like a wedding tiara for Mandy Smith, or Raine The Queen Elizabeth Gate in Hyde Park, to be opened by the Queen next week Spencer?
. . . Oh, perhaps that's it — if the royal heir's marriage hadn't gone adrift, the new gates could have been dedicated more aptly to the Queen Stepmother-To-Be.
Previous page
