“When I was a kid we nicknamed this neck of the woods ‘Fishy Island’. The roads are named after freshwater fish: Bream, Dace and Roach.” These words, etched into a tile, are the only permanent reminder of what this part of London was once called. Fish Island, named after the roads that once ran through the site, stands as a reminder of London’s industrial past, its history woven into the very fabric of the area. Imagine a place where factories stood shoulder to shoulder, their smokestacks reaching towards the sky, spewing out the byproducts of their labour. Fish Island was once a bustling centre of industry, from glue factories to peanut factories, all contributing to the economic heart of London. But the city changed. Industry declined, and the buildings were repurposed, left to stand as silent witnesses to a bygone era. The tilework you are looking at is a fragment of this forgotten history. It’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, a reminder that even in the face of change, there are always traces of the past that remain. This tilework is a beautiful example of a forgotten London, its past etched onto its surface, a story waiting to be told.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to