Elain Harwood 1958-2023
Elain Harwood, with Eldred Evans (right), on our 2008 trip to see the constructivist buildings of Moscow. Elain’s recent death came as a shock to Docomomo UK and her boundless enthusiasm for Modern Movement architecture. This trip pushed that enthusiasm to its limits though – it rained continuously for 4 days but the group’s energy didn’t wain and Elain’s tenacity and warmth kept everyone going. She will be sadly missed (Matthew Wickens)
A tribute from Docomomo UK
Elain Harwood was a fixed point in the small but international world of C20 architectural history. Her enthusiasm for her subject was contagious and when I first met her, as a relatively shy new caseworker for the C20 Society in 2005, her reputation preceded her and I did my best to impress. I was introduced to her by Catherine Croft at the Royal College of Physicians Building by Lasdun and after I’d done my best, she turned to Catherine Croft and in her own inimitable fashion said, “he’s keen in’t ee”. She was right and no-one did more than Elain to make sure I remained that way.
C20 buildings conservation remains a small universe but she made it bigger with her personality and her ability to connect with everyone. Talks could be at the RIBA or the village hall and you’d still get the infectious results of her tireless study, researching and writing. She popped up in so many places as a friend and colleague. I’ve been on her tours, she’s been on mine – most notably helping me out in India with a complete run-down of the global history of Art Deco whilst standing on the sea wall in Mumbai. We taught alongside each other at Cambridge where she always, always corrected my dates and sometimes took over as I loused up a presentation. I remember her coming to my flat on the 26th floor of Balfron Tower with a pile of vinyl under her arm and drinking and smoking whilst listening to Henry Cow, King Crimson, Can and Kraftwerk. She had great music taste.
I had an email exchange with her a few weeks ago, we were off to see Jack Bonnington’s House together, but she didn’t make it saying she was ill. I walked round the house without her, trying to imagine what she would say and what connections she might make. I will have to do that every time now as the ‘just ask Elain’ option has gone. I will miss her so much and I send my condolences to all her close friends and family. This is a tragic loss for so many people who were touched by her wonderful attitude, sense of fun and pioneering scholarship.
Jon Wright
Elain, seen here in the rain photographing Le Corbusier’s Centrosoyuz Building
Searching for defining words to pay tribute to Elain – three keep recurring. Indefatigable, giving, accessible. That, for me, was Elain. (“Elain with no ‘e’”, as she would politely advise the uninitiated.) I’ve never known anyone so tenaciously dedicated to their mission – in her case to communicate and celebrate the architecture and values of Welfare State Britain. Almost single-handed she created a whole new field of architectural scholarship covering this crucial period of modern history. Then, endlessly generous with her time and knowledge. Over thirty years ago, long before the heritage list was digitised, when I hardly knew her and I was struggling to complete my biography of Lubetkin, she unstintingly searched the Grey Books on my behalf to check the listing grades of all his buildings. So abundantly over the years, in lectures, tours, books, she has shared her encyclopaedic knowledge of modern architecture. Just earlier this year she undertook a fastidious editorial review of my latest Lubetkin text for the Twentieth Century Architects series, when she must have had scores of other commitments to attend to. Accessible – Elain has always been ‘there’. Whether round the corner from my office, peddling her bike down Essex Road, or the other end of the planet – at baggage reclaim Melbourne Airport, to be precise, where we discovered we had just arrived off the same plane to Australia to take part in a conference at the university. It is hard to imagine life without Elain. All who knew her must feel bereft – as do I. Our consolation is that she lives on through her writing, and in our memories.
John Allan
I had known Elain for quite a while through the Twentieth Century Society and possibly through the Thirties Society before that, but it was the battle to save Victor Pasmore’s Apollo Pavilion in Peterlee, of 1969, that brought us onto the same platform. Here was an intellectual construction, a piece of abstract constructivist architecture that was unique in this country, giving us a claim to be part of a European cultural tradition of real note, and it was about to be destroyed. It was all that survived in Peterlee that might have drawn a cultural visitor there, where Pasmore had been appointed urban design adviser following the departure of Lubetkin, but where most of the housing he shaped had already been altered beyond recognition. The Pavilion, however, a bridge-like structure spanning a watercourse named after the Moon landing programme of the same year it was built, had been neglected, and local Councillors considered it attracted drug-dealers and ne’er-do-wells, so the Army was invited to blow it up as a field exercise. Elain’s recommendations within English Heritage that it be listed had been turned down by the Minister responsible – Tony Banks (later Lord Stratford). Elain expressed herself very forcibly on the subject to the press afterwards – more forcibly than was prudent for a Government servant, and she got into hot water as a result, which for a time clipped her wings. But DOCOMOMO, under the Chairmanship of Dr Catherine Cooke, swung into action. Letters urging retention of the monument were written to the local authority and anyone else concerned, and in 2002 DOCOMOMO staged an evening event entirely devoted to the Pavilion and its future at which the designer’s son John Pasmore spoke (among others) and the artist Gillian Wise (who had written about the Pavilion for the Newsletter in 1997 at my request as then Editor) sent a video talking about it, and members of the local community in Peterlee came down to attend. Demolition was paused, the locals formed a committee, plans for refurbishment were developed, Heritage Lottery funding was obtained, and in 2009 it was re-opened, being finally listed at Grade II* in 2011 – a standing monument to Elain’s commitment.
Subsequently I recall being on a panel with Elain at which the listing of swimming pools was being considered and we both agreed that Basil Spence’s Swiss Cottage pool was the finest post-war example, complemented by an interesting William Mitchell concrete sculptural frieze. However, it also was refused listing and was subsequently demolished.
Elain was very perceptive and I admired her contributions and vigorous comments immensely, but she retained a sore spot from the aftermath of her outspoken comments about Tony Banks, which kept a distance between us. However, all who are involved in trying to ensure recognition and protection for significant works of Modern Architecture are immensely indebted to her.
James Dunnett
Elain, seen here photographing (on 35mm film) the inside of Moisei Ginzberg’s Narkomfin building
Everything Elain wrote was underpinned by a comprehensive overview of the social, political, economic and planning context of the time (both at national and local levels) which shaped a development. For example, she draws attention to the way in which the withdrawal in 1954 of the “betterment levy”, a tax on the increase in land-value arising from the granting of planning consent, resulted in a doubling in commercial land values overnight; the so-called “Spiv’s Charter of which Richard Seifert was the supreme master. Her first degree, in history, must have helped to shape this approach.
The way that Elain presented herself as a person was quite the opposite of the popular expectation of a grey, impersonal civil-servant. The bold, colourful tunics she wore look as though she ran them up herself from Marimekko curtain material. Perhaps this was not her office gear.
Her face-to-face presence contrasted dramatically with the immense erudition of her writings, clearly the product of hours of conscientious research, threaded through with in-depth understanding.
I first met Elain in 2007, when she came to interview, my partner, George Finch about his Lambeth work. She had not known in advance that we were a couple, so I got to speak with her towards the end of a full day. George and I quickly realised that we could be open with Elain with whom we shared a valuation of architecture as a social art, aiming to dispense “not just bread but roses too”.
I am not sure to which of her many projects this visit pertained, but maybe it was research for Space, Hope, and Brutalism: English Architecture, 1945–1975 published 2015. We were impressed by her penetrating questions and energy.
Tom Cordell, then embarking on his film “Utopia London”, which celebrates the achievements of the best post WW2 developments in London and cuts through the denigration clouding public perceptions of the architecture of the welfare state, wisely sought Elain’s advice on which architects to approach. This resulted in his contacting us in 2008 and we became part of the film-cast together with Elain. Tom’s intent to rescue the optimistic vision of the welfare state chimes exactly with Elain’s “Space, Hope, and Brutalism”.
On the personal level, Elain spared time to speak at the celebration for George’s life held at the AA April 2013, though she had hastened from Cambridge where she had been lecturing students and had to hurry away to another commitment. After the rejection for listing of Dawsons Heights by Margaret Hodge, Min for DCMS, in spite of HE’s glowing recommendation, Elain was quick to unofficially give me some words of comfort to the effect that they would keep trying.
Such a combination of dedication, enthusiasm, pertinacity, wit and intelligence at every level is rare indeed. Dear Elain, you are sorely missed.
Kate Macintosh
I first met Elain when filming Utopia London, she immediately understood what the project was about immediately, and was immensely helpful and generous with her knowledge. Authorship is a fairly overrated concept, particularly in filmmaking, which is always a collaborative process. Without Elain’s brilliant suggestions of who to put in the film, and her own interviews in it, I’m not sure the film would have been anything like what it turned out to be.
The last time I saw Elain was when she came along with her usual enthusiasm to chair a panel for Docomomo and the University of Westminster about Lyons Israel Ellis Grey - which you can see here. It’s hard to believe she’s gone.