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Designs

Barons' green backAutumn seems to suit Barons Court. I’ve been here at other times of the year and felt the station’s exterior looked a bit leaden and grubby, or too bland and sterile. But the soft light and sharp contrasts that you get on a sunny autumn afternoon flatter the place incredibly. The beauty of all the tiny details on the station’s rather intimidating walls is deepened, and the splendour of the building’s design is served up to you in generous, mellow-toned slices.

Court-ing complimentsPerhaps you need a particular kind of sunlight to pick out the care that has gone into the lettering on the station’s signage. Maybe the colour of the brickwork only comes into its own when shot through the prism of a bright October rather than a blistering July or dank December. Or perhaps it’s just that the building’s subtle hues sit best among the equally understated atmosphere that percolates right through this most gentle of seasons.

The effect is evident in the decoration both on the station’s front, and on – ahem – Barons’ green back. Good grief!

Crumbs!It’s all Grade II listed and was all the work of architect Harry Ford. It is stylish, and it is lovely, but it isn’t, as writer Mark Mason contests, “the most beautiful station not just on the London Underground, but in any world you, I or anyone else could possibly imagine.” Oh no. That honour lies elsewhere, with a station I’ve already celebrated here, and to which I’ll return again.

No, me neitherHere’s another of the Underground’s most striking features about which I know strikingly little.

Two of these large, stencilled signs frame the compact, pedestrianised forecourt of East Putney, and I believe their design is unique. I can’t think of anywhere else on the network that boasts these kinds of unorthodox yet stylish proclamations, which makes my lack of knowledge about their conception and history all the more embarrassing.

Still haven't a clueThe fact they are so atypical, and so completely beyond even the broadest of indulgences entertained by Transport for London’s in-house transport style tsars, just makes them all the more fascinating – besides inviting a clutch of teasing questions.

Were they put up perhaps as a consequence of a local YTS exercise? Or a maverick councillor, tired of design edicts from a metropolitan authority? Are they meant to be something else that went a little awry and had to be turned hastily into what we see today? Or are they porticos of the past, hailing from the station’s previous lifetimes, before British Rail sold the line to London Underground in 1994 for the choice sum of one pound sterling?

I’m sure the truth is rather more mundane, though any initiative that leads to the creation of something so artfully conspicuous can’t be entirely without flair.

Two of a kindI really like them.

But then you can show me any elevated, embossed post-war font, preferably outside a bit of public infrastructure, and I’m as happy as a sandboy.

Smile!The Jubilee line extension from Westminster to Stratford is nothing if not a lesson in how to introduce light into dark places. Glittering, shimmering, colourful light. And there’s an entire wall of it at Southwark, tinted in the most alluring, soothing shade of blue.

BluetonicIt is a dazzling 40 metres long and made up of 496 panels of varying sizes, bolted together to form an enormous azure-hued tapestry that reflects all the energy of the station concourse.

The fact that the wall is purely decorative and serves no structural purpose whatsoever just makes it all the most precious. It’s a great example of the way the newer Jubilee line stations were conceived as opportunities to be exploited, not obstacles to be accommodated. Plus it’s gorgeous to look at, both as a slice of art and a turquoise-tinged mirror on all the bustle of the Underground.

I’ve always enjoyed bluetones.

BluetonesWhat a thrillingly chunky dose of architecture. The wall is held in place with these massive concrete struts, which themselves become attractive – for me, anyway – thanks to the way they are shadowed by daylight pouring in from the roof.

Southwark station unfurls narrowly downwards, a necessary manoeuvre due to surrounding buildings and – oh, the irony – old railway viaducts. Curse those Victorians with their feats of swaggering engineering!

But what it loses in horizontal sprawl it gains in dramatic, elegant elevation. The glass wall, the work of Alexander Beleschenko, celebrates what might otherwise had been treated as a constraint. And blue is the perfect colour for the station: cooling, introspective, becalming.

Who knew geometry could be so emotional?

Blue is *the* colour