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Jim, great view. I really like this tower.  It looks like an Italian campanile and is very similar to the one within Kew Gardens at the Victoria gate: It has very clean lines and the brickwork gives it a strong and engineered look with so many bricks. A similar feel to when looking at the brickwork on the Tate Modern building.Here is what I posted in a topic here in 2005:“I asked the Kew Bridge Steam Museum about information on the tower and they kindly provided with the following background..."The Tower at the Kew Bridge Steam Museum was built in 1867 to the design of Alexander Fraser, engineer to the Grand Junction Waterworks Company.  It is in the Italianate style, probably based on a campanile – a detached bell tower built alongside an Italian church. The design is very similar to an earlier tower (since demolished) at the company’s Campden Hill works, although the latter had an open top as it was also a chimney. The Tower was not a chimney, but a standpipe; it houses massive vertical cast iron pipes through which water was pumped before it left the Waterworks. The standpipe acted as a buffer between water under the pulsating pressure produced by the massive steam engines, and the constant pressure required in the mains.The Tower houses five massive cast iron pipes, which together make up the standpipe.The early non-rotative pumping engines did not produce a constant pressure of water, but rather a series of  pulses, coinciding with the power strokes of the engine.  The tower contained two systems of large diameter vertical pipes through which water was pumped before passing to the mains.  The pipes acted as a “buffer state” between water under the pulsating pressure of the engines, and the constant pressure required in the mains.  It also served to protect against sudden loss of load in the event, for example, of a burst water main; such an event could lead to catastrophic damage to the engine.The current standpipe is actually the third and the only one to have been enclosed with brick, a measure designed to protect the massive cast iron pipes within from frost damage. The slits in the brickwork are believed to have been included to allow small fires to be lit at the base to gently warm the pipes in severe weather.The first standpipe was fixed to the side of the chimney and both were located where the waterwheel now stands. It survived until 1846 when a new standpipe was built, roughly in the position of the current one, as part of major improvements suggested by Thomas Wicksteed. This second standpipe was described by Dickens as “...an immensely tall thin column that shoots up into the air...and seems to require four smaller, thinner and not much shorter props to keep it upright.” (Household Words April 1850) These “props” were actually pipes taking water into the mains network.Following a series of severe frosts during the winter of 1866, the pipes split and the Grand Junction Water Works company directors commissioned Aird & Sons, to build the current structure at a cost of £4802.6s.0d. It was completed on October 23rd 1867. Aird & Sons were a world-class construction company, which laid thousands of miles of gas and water pipes, and later built the Aswan Dam."I have found a reference to a book about the company Aird & Sons that built the tower  called 'Deptford, Toronto and Kingston: The Early Years of Charles Aird, Victorian Engineer' by Charles Aird  www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/1845300211/thegrimsaypre-21/026-0380102-5940416”

Duncan Walker ● 6389d

Hi Jim, Yes I'm still here watching the beautiful Thames at Brentford go by. I had for the moment withdrawn from the hurly-burly in some personal research on the late poet Ted Hughes and his wife Sylvia Plath.I have sent you an email. Here's a Ted Hughes poem which was very powerful about a view of a beauty spot where he used to live in Mytholmroyd, West Yorkshire and a photo of six young men there before they went off to die in the First World War:SIX YOUNG MENby Ted HughesThe celluloid of a photograph holds them well - Six young men, familiar to their friends. Four decades that have faded and ochre-tinged This photograph have not wrinkled the faces or the hands. Though their cocked hats are not now fashionable, Their shoes shine. One imparts an intimate smile, One chews a grass, one lowers his eyes, bashful, One is ridiculous with cocky pride - Six months after this picture they were all dead.All are trimmed for a Sunday jaunt. I know That bilberried bank, that thick tree, that black wall, Which are there yet and not changed. From where these sit You hear the water of seven streams fall To the roarer in the bottom, and through all The leafy valley a rumouring of air go. Pictured here, their expressions listen yet, And still that valley has not changed its sound Though their faces are four decades under the ground.This one was shot in an attack and layCalling in the wire, then this one, his best friend,Went out to bring him in and was shot too; And this one, the very moment he was warned From potting at tin-cans in no-man's land, Fell back dead with his rifle-sights shot away. The rest, nobody knows what they came to, But come to the worst they must have done, and held it Closer than their hope; all were killed.Here see a man's photograph, The locket of a smile, turned overnight Into the hospital of his mangled last Agony and hours; see bundled in it His mightier-than-a-man dead bulk and weight: And on this one place which keeps him alive (In his Sunday best) see fall war's worst Thinkable flash and rending, onto his smile Forty years rotting into soil.That man's not more alive whom you confront And shake by the hand, see hale, hear speak loud, Than any of these six celluloid smiles are, Nor prehistoric or, fabulous beast more dead; No thought so vivid as their smoking-blood: To regard this photograph might well dement, Such contradictory permanent horrors here Smile from the single exposure and shoulder out One's own body from its instant and heat.

Duncan Walker ● 6391d

Michael, in your photo of the 'View to St Pauls across the Island bridge' I see the Weir pub building where, next door, the great painter J M W Turner, when he was 10 in 1784-85, was sent to live with his mother's brother, Mr Joseph Mallard William Marshall, a butcher in Brentford. His house and shop was next to where the the Weir pub is today.I wondered what he thought of his short time in Brentford then, so I went digging.....I found that unlike P B Shelley, who also spent 2 years here and hated the time at the Syon Academy, Turner loved Brentford, which sounded like a lovely country retreat at that time.He attended John White’s Brentford Free School, number 125 The High Street (now the Dew Drop Inn); this was his only formal education. It was in Brentford he expressed an interest in painting.“Turner received his first artistic commission while in Brentford. A friend of his uncle, John Lees, a foreman at the Brentford Distillery, commissioned him to hand-colour a book of engravings, for which Lee paid 2d for each engraving. The copy of this book , Picturesque Views of the Antiquities of England and Wales, by Henry Boswell, with most of the plates hand-tinted by the young Turner, is in Chiswick Local Studies collection.”[Brentford Past, by Gillian Clegg]His earliest known work is a copy of an engraving of  Folly Bridge and Bacon’s Tower, 1787, in  Friar Bacon’s Study and Folly Bridge, Oxford (Oxford Almanack, 1780),  made when he was twelve; it was at this time that he produced many sketches of churches, abbeys and city streets. A friend remembered Turner declaring that 'if he could begin life again, he would rather be an architect than a painter'.I found this marvellous old book on Google book search: 'The life of J.M.W. Turner, by George Walter Thornbury, 1862' which had these snippets of his fond time in Brentford:“Turner received the elements of instruction at the Brentford Free-school, as day-boarder. It was here his talent first showed itself. In his way to and from that seat of learning, he amused himself by drawing with a piece of chalk on the walls the figures of cocks and hens.”“The school was opposite the Three Pigeons. It contained, when the sickly, pale boy came down to it from London, fifty boys and ten girls.”“…from red roofs and driving blasts of brown smoke (of Covent Garden); from crimson fog-suns and misty slants of sunshine—to a very Promised Land for a boy-artist. The green fields of Paradise to him were the fields round vulgar Putney and lonely, peaceful Twickenham. The birds must have been to him as little flying angels newly transformed, and the air seemed of sapphire brightness and transparency. It was, I know, near twenty years before I, myself a London-born boy, could forget the exquisite delight of my first days in the country and on the Thames side, where tree, bird, sky, river, seemed but as so many voices uniting in one calm, yet unceasing chorus of gratitude and joy to God their Creator.”“Long afterwards old school-fellows of Turner's used to say, that his first attempts at art had been drawings of birds and flowers and trees from the school-room windows.”“Free and happy in the country, he became a landscape-painter—most true, yet most poetic of landscape-painters—bringing back for us a lost Eden by the force of his enchantments.”“…his school-fellows, sympathizing with his taste, often did " his sums" for him while he pursued the bent of his compelling genius. To these early days in the country Turner owed much. The chestnut-avenue at Bushy Park—the terraces of Hampton Palace—the green calm meadows — the reflective cattle—the pouting, scornful swans —the fast-flowing river—the summer elms, so dense and dark and close, yet peopled with chorister birds,— must all, as after-work showed, have reached his young heart, stirred him to poetry, and roused his veneration, his sense of sublimity, and his love for the beautiful. I think that no place breeds so strong a reactionary love for poetry and art as London—the vast, the negative, the miserable, the loathsome, the great, the magnificent. It was probably indelible recollections of these early days that afterwards led Turner to come and live at Twickenham, near his old school. It led him to delight—and this years after—in drawing swans in all attitudes; and it was long before even the flat- roofed stone-pines of Italy could efface the memory of the Bushy elms and the Brentford meadows gilt with flowers and azure with forget me-nots.“To be near Reynolds's old house at Richmond is said to have been one of Turner's chief reasons for building Solus Lodge (my note: he renamed Sandycoombe Lodge, Sandycoombe Road and lived there 1813-126). More probably it arose from his wish to be undisturbed, to study the Thames, and to be near his old schoolboy home at Brentford.”St Paul’s church was not there when Turner was, it was built in 1868. Neither was the canal it opened in 1798, but the River Brent and Thames, The Butts, Syon House, Gunnersbury House, Osterley House, St Lawrence church, Kew Gardens still preserve a lot that he would have known.

Duncan Walker ● 6432d