Largely immune from architectural fads and whims, the Royal Festival Hall on London’s south bank is still arguably one of the capital’s most talked about contemporary edifices. There is no middle way; any trained eye will either fall for or faint over its uncompromising stone facade. In fact, the Hall is enjoying multi-million facelift; some £116 million has helped the 1950s treasure to retain its original luster.
The building was substantially altered in 1964 by adding the foyers and terraces to the river side of the building and more dressing rooms to the rear. Alterations to the facades facing the river removed the playful Scandinavian Modernism of the building's primary public face in favour of a plainer and hard-edged style. The building again underwent a substantial renovation between 2005 and 2007 led by Allies and Morrison Architects aimed at improving the poor acoustics, production access and flexibility of the auditorium and the general quality of fabric, entrance spaces and cafe and the layouts of the foyers.
Granted, the architecture on the outside did not encounter a smooth reception in its early days, but it can be said that its chief planners were vindicated by the 21st century taste for industrial finishes. This forward-thinking finish has been complemented with the opening up for lease of the space around the Hall, which are now the enclaves of stylish cafés and bars.
But the edge (so to speak) of the Hall has always been, hands down, the inside. The mostly-wood components that completed the hall lend much of its character. As an aside, the hall is prove to be one of the Architectural Ironmongery world's quiet headaches, given the post-war lack of steel when the building was being completed.
Its a different story altogether when it came to the Hall’s doors, these metallic masterpieces that are perhaps the most noticed detail of the building's visitors. The masters behind the original door furniture were architects Peter Moro and Leslie Martin. Every door handle got its own finish and design according to their pre-determined function and position in the building.
But the recent feat of recreating, refurbishing and replacing this sophisticated range of entrances and exits is either the architectural ironmongery world's best nightmare or dream, depending on your point of view. Harbrine, which won the bid to orchestrate the project, had to literally pass through 450 doors, each with its own story of condition and repair to tell. Harbrine director Harry Singh elaborated that “the original plan was to reuse the hardware that was in situ, maybe after a polish. But when we began to look closer we saw that the true picture was much more complex with closers broken, hinges worn, and lock latches damaged beyond repair. Basically, almost every single mechanical part needed replacing.”
Most of the parts of the doors were either nickel silver, solid bronze, or bronze plated on brass. In any case, these were all disassembled to be relieved of half a century's worth of dust and dirt. The wooden parts, meanwhile, were sanded and revarnished. In cases where this was unrealistic, the handles had to be completely recast.
Another idea of the work that went into renovating this work of art was how both vintage and modern issues were incorporated into the actual project. Both the Disability Discrimination Act and Building Control and English Heritage were harmonized in order that this Grade I listed building did not lose its unique elegance while meeting contemporary specifications.
In conclusion, The Royal Festival Hall is an example that will be studies for years to come as to how a brilliant result can be gained via a close collaboration between architect and architectural ironmongery.
