C O N T E X T 1 0 8 : M A R C H 2 0 0 9 51 works of the 250 years preceding 1900 in France, Britain and the USA. This was historically a highly significant but now largely overlooked activity primarily of military engineers. This is followed by two chapters on new materials. An absorbing survey of the diverse enthusiasts for concrete construction follows a chapter on structural use of iron. A fourth chapter on bridges is at the heart of the book, confirming Saint’s recognition of the metaphysical power of bridges. What follows is bound to be the most intriguing element for many contemporary architects, a chapter entitled Reconciliation, in which the rapprochement of the 1960s, 70s and 80s between high-tech architects and engineers is treated to calm and perspicacious analysis – probably for the first time in an historical work. The sixth chapter, on A Question of Upbringing, explains the history and current condition of the formal education of engineers and architects. It should be required reading for heads of all schools of architecture. The notion of a forever unresolved rivalry between architects and engineers may seem so obvious to the informed reader (as well as the design-team member) as not to be questioned. The book contains little consideration of the possibility that design may have different meanings for the different professions. For the engineer, design means achieving permanent stability in a structure by the most economical (not necessarily most elegant) means. In contrast, architectural design is strongly image-driven. This difference in understanding of a common term poses a question over existence of a rivalry of equals in all multi-disciplinary design teams. True, there is tension (which may be productive, as Saint acknowledges) between the differing cultures of architects and structural engineers. But the different professions fulfil their respective roles harmoniously in realising most buildings. Why write a book suggesting that this rivalry is central to the creation of buildings? The answer is that, in common with most accounts of architectural history, it is not the backdrop buildings of the general scene where the conventional relationships have worked, but cutting-edge structures, either for their radical aesthetics or technological innovation. In this context perhaps it is no surprise that the architects come off worse, having a fuller record of prima donna unreasonableness than the engineers, who can also offer the defence of the logic of structural mechanics. This is not a book for the uninitiated. Saint assumes a good deal of foreknowledge of history of architecture in his reader. Although he declares its origin to be a series of lectures to student architects, in places this provenance is a little too obvious, not least from the retention of several witty asides seeming to seek the reward of a knowing titter in the lecture hall – an excusable idiosyncrasy. The book, is beautifully designed, illustrated with a host of enlightening, sometimes stunning, images. It deserves a place in the library of every architect, engineer or, indeed, surveyor. Alan Johnson is an architect in government historic estates unit of English Heritage. At home with Auntie The Story of Broadcasting House: home of the BBC Mark Hines, Merrell, 2008, hardback, 192 pp, b&w and colour photos, ISBN 978 1 8589 4421 0, £29.95 When it was erected in 1930, Broadcasting House was hailed as a wonder of the age. The BBC had been established seven years earlier in makeshift premises on London’s Embankment with a staff of 31, and the move to a complex building capable of housing 800 people with its extraordinary range of functions all stacked up one above another was a source of fascination for its listeners. Mark Hines of MacCormac Jamieson Prichard was the project architect for the recent remodelling and ongoing expansion of Broadcasting House, and his book is a lucid and entertaining account of its remarkable history. The refurbishment of this Grade II* listed building, completed in 2006, was the subject of more than 40 listed building consent applications. The assessment of significance of the individual spaces was assisted by the discovery of an archive of beautiful Dell andWainwright photographs of the original interiors, many of which are published for the first time in the book. For it was the interiors, designed by three ‘young turks’ of the modern movement – Serge Chermayeff,Wells Coates and Raymond McGrath – that outshone the building itself (by commercial architect George Val Myer), which was described by one contemporary critic as a ‘petrified dreadnought’. There are fascinating accounts of the building in use: the special effects studios, the echo rooms, the listening spaces, the specialist libraries and the music control rooms, all with their purpose-designed furniture, acoustic finishes and vibrant colours. In McGrath’s stylish basement restaurant, where, by the late 1930s, 5,000 lunches and 30,000 afternoon teas were prepared each month, broadcasters and staff mixed freely (although their culinary habits were noted – The Symphony Orchestra enjoyed tomatoes and lettuce, while the dance bands preferred roast beef andYorkshire pudding). It was during the war, when listeners were offered a daily diet of war bulletins, endless government announcements and fussy instructions, that the BBC received its nickname Auntie. In 1940 a 500lb bomb fell on the music library, killing seven staff, while the news reader several floors below swept the plaster dust from his script and calmly completed his bulletin. George Orwell described the wartime
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