GrahamH
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If there’s still a sticking point, it’s the fact that the dentils (squares) were done on the cheap by leaving gaping holes beneath the cap stones, rather than being filled in as is standard practice. At least the shadows cast by the deep modelling generally conceals this!
Still, a highly worthwhile effort – one makes all the difference for that extra little bit of commitment to detail. Well done Ulster Bank and architects.
Yep – goodness knows many of us have experienced the delights of that office and its labyrinthine queues at some point or other. Thankfully their (nonetheless equally labyrinthine) online service now cancels it all out. It would appear that Hammam Buildings was built by the State though, not least given the input of the OPW at the time. The OPW were also the applicants to the recent proposal to replace all the windows in the building. It seems they own it.
Some subtle tweaking has been taking place on another 1920s building at the opposite end of the street. Whether it has occured in response to concerns raised by DCC planning, an initiative on the part of the architects, or simply the correction of a drafting error is unclear, but the disappointingly thin, weak and poorly detailed lintels atop the new doorcases of the Ulster Bank have just been completely replaced with cantilevered equivalents. This is in line with the original design of the ground floor facade and makes for a substantial and admirable improvement to the composition of the replica shopfront.
Corrective works underway in February, with the practically brand new lintels taken out.
The enormous difference in depth between the old and new lintel stones is clearly apparent. These are the new pieces which had to be carved from scratch.
Compared with the shallow originals from last year (photographed at time of construction).
And for what it’s worth, another picture from that time of some corner pieces of Portland stone, which got around the ’tile effect’ problem of exposed side joints, as well as sample pieces of granite.
The doorcases before and after replacement.
Before
After
An extremely welcome change, elevating the frontage and doorcases from a position of faint embarrassment to that of a substantial and confident statement, commanding a street presence.
The LED lighting has also been made a little neater, but still could be hidden better. It was pulled forward to the new edge instead of keeping it back where it was and thus concealed.
I got the impression it’s the exact opposite. It looks like the brickwork is being cleaned and the windows being replaced in a Burlington-like temporary makeover. Hard to tell. The fact that all the furnishings were auctioned off a few weeks ago would perhaps suggest otherwise…
The townhouse at No. 42 is undergoing remedial stabilisation works to the interior. As part of the project, a proposal to clean the front and rear facades was declared non-exempt by DCC, i.e. requiring planning permission. Presumably an application is about to be submitted, ensuring the scaffold is used to best advantage.
Flippin heck. At least it’s lived up to the renders (which I cannot find now). Hits the 1970s spot to a tee.
As with some vague Art Deco references.
The elegant railings have also been painted a soft grey.
As have the timber apron panels between the windows.
Ridiculously, the southernmost two bays of Hammam Buildings were not cleaned – they appear to be in different ownership.
The contrast is notable. Here are the opposing end bays compared (the first has been flipped for comparison purposes).
The railings have also sadly vanished from the southern (first) section. Surely the window replacement will not follow such ownership divisions too?
All in all, a welcome improvement to the appearance of the Upper street.
The all-important grandiose urns have yet to go back though!
@Devin wrote:
Before
After
The contrast with the adjacent Savoy.
The crisp steel lettering mounted on the Portland stone fascia. With its limestone inset, this has to be one of the best shopfronts not only on O’Connell Street, but the entire city centre.
The adjacent Hammam Buildings looks spectacular.
(If not quite the garish recent Citizens Information fascia, which has no planning permission, quelle surprise).
The delicate neo-Grec detailing is highlighted to pristine effect.
The brass-effect oak doors. Magnificent.
So we do? Oh the shame!
Well as mentioned, part of the 1920s terrace on Upper O’Connell Street has just been unveiled after a cleaning by Nolan MPC Ltd.
Overseen by then City Architect Horace O’Rourke, Christine Casey ascribes the design of the focal Hammam Buildings block to the Cork firm of Chillingworth & Levie, with the input of the omnipresent H. G. Leask of the OPW.
What once was this…
…is now this.
Naturally a dash of golden afternoon sun aids somewhat in lifting the depression stakes.
As can be seen, only the Hamman Buildings facade and that of the neighbouring infill to the north (left) were treated. Both of these parts appear to be occupied by the State. Presumably the intended window replacement will happen in due course.
Before
After
Before
After
The vivid green copper mansard roof complements the rusty tones of the granite ashlar to perfection.
The buttery tones of the newly cleaned Portland stone balcony.
A dash of ebullient carving on an otherwise stern commercial facade.
@Devin wrote:
Ok perhaps there is an argument that he/she who did it was maverick and should have kept the yellow brick of the others. But I don’t think it has compromised the terrace. It more highlights that the other brick facades need some tlc.
I could not disagree more! What has happened in respect of the red wash is ridiculous, and typical of the slapdash approach taken to brick conservation in Dublin, where any work is deemed acceptable as long as it is undertaken by a professional using an historic technique. For some reason, the standards we apply to plasterwork, joinery, window repair and ironwork – generally repaired according to textbook models, standards and accepted best practice – is rarely applied to brickwork here. It’s as if the repair and conservation of brickwork is deemed to beyond the expertise of the planner or architect, and is regularly left to the whims – however professional the quality of their work may be – of the bricklayer, to whom is often left to advise on the technique and mortars used, in spite of this being critical to the entire project.
There is absolutely no way that any building in a perfectly intact uniform terrace should be dyed an alternate colour to that of adjacent buildings. Not only does this impair the appearance of the entire terrace, it also does an injustice to the intelligence of our forebears to suggest they would be so aesthetically and socially stupid to think nobody would notice a narrow sliver of a property in a uniform terrace built of cheap brick being dyed to appear more regular or expensive. With substantial houses on the squares, yes – on a beanpole of a secondary commercial terrace, most certainly not. I appreciate a photograph shall now miraculously appear from nowhere to dispute this, but that would not be typical!
To apply the above case to elsewhere in the city, we would have smatterings of red-washed houses popping up along the length of Gardiner Street, or half of Heytesbury Street transformed overnight into a tribute to the wine gum. We often give out on this site about modern property owners compromising unified compositions through render application, paint colours and window replacement. This is the conservation version of this, and very simply should not have been permitted by planners. The correct course of action was to execute the same high quality job using a yellow mortar (and arguably wigged).
Regarding the windows, from what I’ve made out from passing, the various groupings of reproduction sashes differ slightly from each other, some quite drastically. Coupled with the mismatched brickwork, there’s a lot of clutter up there.
Just for the record, I think the red-washed building is an outstanding job, including the pointing, with the best choice of colour and standard of application I have yet encountered in Dublin. Likewise about the windows. Just a shame it’s the wrong building. Agreed the North Great George’s Street job is excellent. The plum is fruity but it works. The buff tuck is beautiful.
Good stuff. Yes I definitely remember seeing a bizarre looking substantial roof plonked atop, as well as a brick finish. Possibly even railings too. Nearly sure the Archive had a picture – strange I couldn’t find it the last day.
Good article below on Margaret McGowan’s website about the Pillar excavation. It says it all about the 1966 destruction that not even an excavation was conducted at that point in vague compensation for the unwarranted demolition. There’s a great news clip of the moment the box was opened, but the link on the RTÉ website isn’t working alas.
:rolleyes: 🙂
A traditional technique it may be, but going by Devin’s 1990s photograph, that building had never been colourwashed! Even if it had, logic would dictate the simple removal of whatever fragments remained rather than compromising the wider terrace. As far as I’m concerned, such practices are akin to the hideous Victorian obsession with smearing render over facades as a quick fix solution to fleeting whims of fashion.
Further observations on the merits or otherwise of brick colouring would perhaps be better left to a brick thread (oh the prospect), but I shall leave you in the capable hands of architect, Isaac Ware, quoted in the Department of Environment’s Guide to the Repair of Historic Brickwork, launched only last night in the Custom House.
In his Complete Body of Architecture from 1756, Ware ‘describes the mid-century change in taste in England from ‘hot’ to ‘cool’ colours, red bring considered ‘too fiery and disagreeable to the eye’.
Someone get this man a brandy!
And I particularly like how the central access door remains constant after two and a half centuries of alterations.
@gunter wrote:
At one of those enthralling Peter Walsh lectures on early Irish photography, in the Gilbert before Christmas.
Aha! For the life of me I couldn’t think where I’d seen that picture! I was in the IAA scratching my head at the absence of early shots in any of the folders that I was sure I’d seen before – it must have been at the lecture 🙂
Given the first photographs taken in Dublin were c. 1848, it must have been within the tight timeframe of the next handful of years that the roof vanished. Personally I’d be in two minds about reinstating it: firstly as the outward appearance of the building as currently stands is generally of greater 19th century substance than mid-18th century, and secondly as the distinctive shape of the building as a cutsey little cube perched next to the GPO is surely one of its greatest assets!
Nonetheless, the regimentally flat parapets of Grace’s image surely must be interpreted as blatant marketing of the ‘new style’ on a grand scale. The absence of so much as a ridge tile borders on the ridiculous in its effort to project the image of what was effectively an unachievable ideal. All it needs is a ‘The Heritage of Style – A New Way of Living’ tagline, accompanied by a bewigged couple clinking two glasses of claret in their glazed setback pavilion overlooking the Mall.
Ah Capel Street eh?!
I must admit I find this (otherwise charming) terrace a complete mess. The brickwork’s all over the place, the windows for the most part a disaster, and most properties exhibit a lack of basic maintenance. Even with the most recent, and by all accounts most accomplished, restoration, a red mortar and colourwash was used on what is yellow stock brick in a yellow stock brick terrace! I mean, is it just me?
This isn’t purist diatribe, this is basic stuff. We live in a city where the fundamental building blocks are Georgian brick barns. If we cannot even tackle the most basic of issues affecting these, then what hope can we hold for the wider city? Botched detailing on these simple buildings is always so painfully evident.
Otherwise, a charmer of a terrace with some admirable efforts interspersed along its length.
@gunter wrote:
a yellow brick is just a failed red brick, in my book.
Okay, so a debate for another day, but there’s no way that remark is being allowed slip through the net!
So what to do with this decrepit block occupying a prominent corner site adjacent to the GPO?
Well firstly, what do we have to work with? In summary, an apparently significantly modified mid-Georgian structure of c. 1750-51, where only the principal parts of the external and probably some internal walls date to the original construction. Modified c. 1830-40, the upper parapet levels are likely to be of replacement brick Рindeed if not the entire external shroud Рwith the rear fa̤ade of yellow brick almost certainly dating from this alteration. The stucco window surrounds to the first floor of the northernmost two bays appear to date from this time also, and are of good, if unremarkable, quality.
All stucco surrounds to the southernmost three bays and single bay on Henry Street are of extremely poor quality and contribute little to the character of the building.
Splayed internal shutter boxes with a central square motif are typical of the 1830s and 1840s, suggesting most of the interior detailing also dates from this time.
The shallow roof structure and minimal yellow brick chimneys appear to date from the c. 1830-40 renovation.
As does the rear elevation.
In assessing options for restoration and conservation, the questions to be asked are: is the current exterior worthy of retention as is, and if not, what state in the building’s history should it be restored to?
There is little doubt that a crass render-clad façade with mixumgatherum stucco adornments does little to lend dignity to the setting of the GPO, nor this important corner at the entrance to Henry Street. It would be illogical on a number of grounds, not least commercial ones, to restore the building to its original 1752 state, especially considering the level of modification that has taken place in the interim. It would therefore be of much greater value, logic and sound justification to restore the building to its c. 1830-40 state, a period when the building entered the modern commercial age, embracing a function which it still plays host to today, and whose modifications comprise the basic form of the current structure.
As such, it would be my view that No. 68-69 should be stripped of its (hopefully lime) render if possible, exposing the original brickwork (whenever that may date from). This would involved removing all window surrounds except those two that survive from the alteration, and their replication across the other first floor windows.
All windows should be restored to late Georgian sashes of c. 1830, creating a suitably restrained classical setting for the GPO.
It is fashionable to deride reproduction, but a high quality traditional shopfront, possibly with awnings, is highly desirable for this site, not least considering the creative solutions employed until the early 20th century for retail corner entrances. Restoring the building to a hokey Bath craft shop of Jane Austin proportions is not what is being advocated – rather a shopfront informed by simple 19th century Dublin precedent to gel with the wider host building. The proliferation of mutilated heritage shopfronts across every convenience store across the capital is not excuse enough to brand such a solution as unimaginative – indeed the very fact it has never actually been done properly makes it quite the opposite.
Let’s see some action on this significant building – a structure that has borne witness to so many significant events in its lifetime from its front row seat, as to make it a wonder that it is still standing at all. It deserves some care and attention.
In spite of myriad images of 1916, I haven’t happened upon any depicting this specific building. 1922 is more successful.
Here we can clearly see in situ the different window surrounds of the corner three bays on O’Connell Street and the corner single bay on Henry Street, which are still evident to this day. Finely drawn blockwork is also apparent above the magnificent Edwardian shopfront.
The newly completed terrace across the road looks crisp and smart.
It seems likely that the damaged inflicted in 1916 necessitated a re-rendering of the corner three-bay property of the wider five-bay building, where the window surrounds were also re-executed in an economical and distinctly ungainly manner and quoins added. Indeed, such was the economy of the works that it appears the c. 1830-40 windows were retained and simply worked around, as seen above. Presumably therefore, the modern plate sashes date from post-1922, though going by their poor build quality, probably from the 1940s.
Poor joints.
The clearest archive images of the building naturally date from the 20th century. This one shows our building in the 1940s – remarkably still with 1830-40 sashes at the upper levels – as busy home to multiple businesses.
This from about the same date also shows Georgian-style windows.
This vibrant technicolour view from the early 1960s suggests No. 68-69 has been painted pink and white since then.
Not quite so. This marvelous photograph from March 1966 shows the mother of all dodgy paint jobs (and eerily prescient of the modern-day black and yellow scheme to the Henry Street elevation).
Perhaps the Pillar explosions should be added to the list of events escaped from over the years.
The present paint scheme emerged soon afterwards.
The blatantly commercial ground floor with shopfront fascia, pilasters and pretty paned windows to both elevations, suggests the entire five bays of the building had been consumed for commercial purposes by this stage. Separate access to the upper floors is still apparent.
This is, incidentally, one of the earliest depictions of a modern shopfront in Dublin.
Another view, this time from 1827, is not accurate in the number of window bays depicted, but does show the same exposed gable. A shopfront also features.
A further drawing from around the same time by Brocas, possibly based on the former, is also inaccurate in bays, but is probably more true to life with its mismatched parapets. Again, a grand shopfront can be seen.
It would appear that the building underwent significant alteration shortly afterwards, in approximately 1830-40, involving the regularisation of the parapets, possibly the rebuilding of the roof structure and chimneys, the replacement of the sash windows, and the addition of five uniform stucco window surrounds at first floor level in line with the emerging Victorian fondness for decoration on the street’s sparse classical facades. This date would also tie in with the commonplace overhaul of a building a century or so after its construction.
It has proven impossible to determine if the render coating was applied at this time utilising photographic evidence alone. Weighing up all possibilities, including taking neighbouring buildings into account, it remains a matter of complete speculation. The only factor that may weigh on the side of the brick façade surviving until later a date is that if it was rendered c. 1830-40, the two properties within the corner block would have been painted different colours in the below images. They are not.
Just three windows dating from this c. 1830-40 wave of alteration survive, on the Henry Street elevation. These are amongst the oldest windows in the entire area.
One of the earliest photographs of O’Connell Street, dating from 1858, shows the shadows of stucco surrounds in situ by that time.
By the early 1860s, things are much clearer, if not quite the façade material.
Including the windows being bravely painted! A highly ambitious, expansively glazed shopfront with fascia is apparent by now, made possible by an internal cast iron column and supporting beams. The subdivision of the properties into their modern three-bay and two-bay form is also clearly notable at this point. It probably happened earlier, and is easily confirmed through directories, but we’ll have to leave something for any consultant architects to research themselves.
A similar scene in a c. 1870 perspective.
And again this one of c. 1890s.
Most interestingly however, the render finish did not appear to arrive, as one may expect, post-1916 as an economical sticking plaster for bullet wounds, as happened at the corner with Bachelors Walk. The earliest photographic suggestion of render unearthed is this picture of c. 1900. It is possible that it is painted brick however.
The property subdivision is also clearly apparent here.
It has featured many times before on this thread, but the corner building at No. 68-69 Upper O’Connell Street, which incorporates a number of properties, is a remarkable structure on a number of levels, in spite of its down-at-heel appearance.
Not only is it likely to be the oldest building standing on the thoroughfare, it has also survived no less than five extensive waves of redevelopment on the street:
1) The demolition of the lower end of Drogheda Street by the Wide Streets Commission in the 1780s, when the creation of a more formal corner at this point would have been a desirable aspiration.
2) The extensive wave of demolitions and grandiose rebuilding conducted during the 19th century.
3) The orgy of destruction inflicted by the 1916 Rising. No. 68-69’s positioning adjacent to the focal target on the street makes its survival all the more remarkable, not least considering the fate of the Hotel Metropole on the opposing side of the GPO.
4) The further destruction focused primarily on the Upper street during 1922. Again the building escaped largely unscathed.
5) The onslaught of property speculation in the 1960s and 1970s and resultant destruction, when O’Connell Street lost some of its finest stock. Again No. 68-69 stood tall.
What follows is an attempt to piece together the provenance of this intriguing structure, which has the unique cachet of being located next door to the most reproduced and photographed building in Ireland of the last two centuries, since its completion in 1818. The fact that No. 68-69 was formerly sandwiched between the grandiose set-piece of the GPO and the Pillar makes analysis of the building all the more fruitful; it unwittingly forms the backdrop to countless shots.
No. 68-69 Upper O’Connell Street has its origins in the creation of Sackville Mall, the ambitious elongated residential square laid out by Luke Gardiner c. 1748-49. Involving the demolition of some of the upper part of the late 17th century Drogheda Street, it is likely that a number of Dutch Billy houses barely 50 years old were swept away in the process.
One little observed aspect of Gardiner’s choice of site for the Mall is that the majority of upper Drogheda Street remained undeveloped as late as the publication of Charles Brooking’s map in 1728.
Presuming little else emerged between this point and the 1750s (quite possible if Gardiner was engaged with Henrietta Street and other parts of his extensive estate), it follows that the ideal site for a grand street laid out in accordance with the newest principles would be centrally located, vacant land in an otherwise established area. Upper Drogheda Street was an obvious choice.
Named after the Lord Lieutenant of 1751-55, Lionel Cranfield Sackville, 1st Duke of Dorset, Sackville Mall measured a breathtaking 150 in width, stretching a colossal 1050 feet from Great Britain Street (Parnell Street) in the north to the junction with Henry Street in the south. Famously, the centre of the street was dominated by a promenading mall lined with low granite walls and obelisks topped with lamps. Reference has been made to it being planted with elm trees some years later.
Eamon Walsh has noted that the first development on the Mall took place on the eastern side, with one of the first leases dating to 8 May 1750. Gardiner appears to have been keen to get development underway as quickly as possible in an effort to publicise the square, even lending money to some lessees to build their houses. Much of the eastern side was complete by 1755.
As nothing remains of this early phase of building due to comprehensive redevelopment on the eastern side of the street, we must turn to the western side for fragments of early construction. Rocque’s map indicates that not all of the western flank was complete by 1756 (at variance with Grace’s idealistic artist’s impression of four years previous).
Whereas the eastern side had largely been purpose-built for the wealthy and powerful, the early phase of the western side (pictured below) was built by a number of builder/developers who acquired Gardiner’s narrower plots here for speculative building.
The terrace of modest two-bay houses evident in Grace’s image is clearly apparent to this day in the narrow plot widths that comprise this stretch of the street. North of the modern-day Dublin Bus HQ, the houses got larger. Nathanial Clements built one of the most substantial, typical of his Henrietta Street mansions, at the corner with Great Britain Street. This plot lease, dating to 12 May 1753:
“contain[ed] to the front to the said Mall 143 feet 4 inches and in the rear to stable land 49 feet 4 inches…boarding to the north Great Britain Street., one the south to…Benjamin Burton.â€
This large double-fronted house (the street mean was about 75 feet in width) appears to be this plot at the top of the street.
This, along with the adjacent northern plot, informs the modern-day AIB building on the corner with Parnell Street. The date of May 1753 confirming an empty plot, contrasting with a developed plot as depicted by Rocque in 1756, tells us something of the date of similar buildings along this terrace. The lease of the building plot of what is now the last surviving intact house on the street today, No. 42, dates to 1752. It is fair to deduce that most of these larger houses on the west side date/dated to c. 1753-60.
The first reference to No. 68-69 Upper O’Connell Street occurs at an earlier point, in 1752. The building was constructed by a John Turner, who leased the completed structure in July 1752:
“unto the said Francis Morand all the new dwelling house and tenements, situated on the west side of Sackville Street.â€
Given the building had already been built by this time, it is safe to assume that construction began sometime around 1750-51, making it without question one of the earliest structures on this side of the street. Critically, the fact that this building was located on the site of an older holding on Henry Street, suggests that an existing interest may have been placated with a speedy reconstruction. Also, this building formed part of the introductory stretch of the street and gave form to its entrance corner, further suggesting a quick turnaround in building. It is likely this building was the first to be built on the Mall, and is therefore the oldest on O’Connell Street. An extensive trawl through all leases of the west side would of course confirm or disprove this. In any event, it is a matter of mere months in question rather than years.
The 1752 lease reference to ‘tenements’ is a curious but illuminating one. This use would explain the odd design of the building as depicted in Grace’s image of the Mall, where a mean rounded-headed doorway leads into the house (north), and why a bizarre square-headed doorway with adjoining picture window dominates the frontage of the corner property (south). (The elaborate doorcase on Henry Street, as at the other side of the Mall, is purely artistic licence).
Seemingly the corner building was a commercial unit of some kind, with a dwelling house proper attached to the side. The term ‘tenement’ in the 18th century had a different meaning to that of today, referring to all rights, leases and boundaries associated with a property, rather than the modern-day association with low order accommodation. Nonetheless, this unorthodox lease and building type on a grandiose new residential thoroughfare further suggests that an older interest on Henry Street was being accommodated.
By 1818, the same five-bay structure is depicted a little differently to that by Oliver Grace.
Although ostensibly the same building, the earlier regular parapet facing Henry Street is shown here as being an exposed gable. Given artists’ tendencies to blur the focus on irregularities such as these, it seems unlikely that such a roof structure would be depicted unless it was actually there.
However, given the neighbouring houses’ attic windows do not align with the lower pitch of their roofs, as at No. 68-69, it is safe to assume there is an inaccuracy in that respect at least.
Thanks S.O.S.
Fully agreed about the limited benefits of double-glazing relative to the poor isulation value of old walls, floors and non-draught-proofed windows. But the way I see it, if we want to get real about energy conservation while also restoring historic detail to houses where original windows have long since disappeared, it is essential that double glazing forms part of that process. There is no way the average joe public is going to sacrifice double-glazed PVC or aluminium frames for a single-glazed sash, however well draught-proofed or aesthetically pleasing. This results in a net energy loss to the property (whatever of the manufacturing process which is likely to be a different story).
As such, the sooner we formulate and make viable a well-detailed, historically appropriate double-glazed sash or equivalant – preferably involving a single-glazed pane of double-glazed value – the better. It’s probably fair to say that on a national basis 50 per cent of historic buildings have lost their original windows. To have even a fraction of these reinstated on an energy-conscious basis would be extremely worthwhile, even if limited to Victorian single-pane examples.
Lofty conservation professionals appear to forget the ranks of typical two-up two-down houses that proliferate in every urban area, never mind smaller or slightly larger houses (and all of which suffer the greatest loss of window fabric of our wider building stock). These require and deserve sensitive reinstatement as much as larger flagship properties where authentic detailing is obviously equally desirable. The sooner we get away from the horrendously detailed and manufactured rubbish being thrown at these buildings in the name of energy conservation, towards a more aesthetically pleasing and probably more efficient model, the better it will be for both property owners and our built heritage.
(and to clarify I obviously do not advocate the replacement of original fabric where it survives)
A grand array of handsome sashes there brainscan. Good to see retention is on the cards!
Thanks for all the replies S.O.S – most informative. On one last point, and based upon the above case, is it possible in most cases to double-glaze a typical single-pane sash window, or is it very much joint solidity and member size dependant? Say in a typical 1900 house where the original glass has long vanished?
It’s issues such as these, which involve the retention of original fabric while offering a energy-saving solution, that aren’t getting enough public airing.
Agreed about the diluted symmetry, but it is a terrace of such breadth as to make questionable even the most rigidly proportioned set-piece having much impact. What it loses in symmetry it makes up for in grandeur of scale and design.
Current view.
The contrast on one of the partially cleaned Portland stone pilasters at ground floor level of Hammam Buildings.
And the rather forlorn looking former NIB across the way.
A dash of Glaswegian swagger on O’Connell Street.
@Smithfield Resi wrote:
Are there outstanding enforcement notices that have not been passed to legal proceedings?
There are certainly cases running into several years where there have been no results. Indeed, just walking down the street today after taking the above pictures, the level of complete and utter lack of enforcement is nothing short of breathtaking. Even the newly opened Spar at the corner of Cathedral Street are breaching their own planning permission, never mind provisions of the SAPC:
Condition 4. The following shall apply to the operation of the shop: a) No goods or free-standing advertising structures associated with the proposed development shall be erected on the adjoining public pavement or at the entrance of the shop. b) All windows shall be maintained at all times, and the glazing shall be kept free of all stickers, posters and advertisements. c) The sound level of any loudspeaker announcement, music or other material projected in or from the premises shall be controlled so as to ensure the sound is not audible in adjoining premises or at two meters from the frontage. Reason: In the interests of visual amenity.
Yah…
