“Lousy St Luke’s,” they used to call it. Can you guess why? Look up at that spire. See that weathervane? Now, it’s a dragon. But for years, it was mistaken for a louse, earning St Luke’s Old Street a rather unfortunate nickname. Don’t worry, though, this grand old church has much more to offer than an unfortunate nickname.
Built in the early 18th century, St Luke’s was designed by the powerhouse duo of John James and Nicholas Hawksmoor. It was part of a grand plan to meet the spiritual needs of London’s booming population. The spire, a rare sight on an Anglican Church, is said to be Hawksmoor’s handiwork.
But this church wasn’t just a place of worship. It housed a slice of London’s history within its walls and beneath them in the crypt. The naturalist Mark Catesby rests here, his grave now lost to time. The renowned type founder, William Caslon, and his son, lie beneath the watchful gaze of a listed chest tomb. Even the architect George Dance the Elder found his final rest at St Luke’s.
Sadly, the ground beneath St Luke’s proved as restless as its former parishioners. Subsidence took its toll, twisting the windows and threatening the structure. By 1959, the church fell silent, its doors closed for what seemed like eternity.
But St Luke’s had one last encore. Today, it’s a vibrant music center, brought back to life by the London Symphony Orchestra. The heavy concrete roof might be a far cry from its 18th-century predecessor. But the music that flows from within these walls ensures that St Luke’s legacy lives on, louder and prouder than any unfortunate nickname.