The Inspiration of St Paul's

The summer solstice has come and gone, but the days are still gloriously long. I've truly settled into my job at The Firm, and enjoying it more now that I have some software development work, instead of the tedious support work that was bringing me down. Still, it amuses me that I find myself often perilously close to the nasty cycle of "getting up each morning, going to work, gymming, then coming home to sleep". My strategy for resisting that nightmare is to remind myself that I am in London, and I use every London cliche to pique my memory. I might spot a red phone box, or a red double-decker bus, or a red Royal Mail pillar box, and in an instant I can barely conceal my joy at remembering where I am. It's a real-world analog to how film-makers open a scene with an establishing shot.

Lately, I've been using St. Paul's Cathedral, which might suggest a lack of imagination on my part, but frankly, it's so bloody big, it's hard to ignore. Each afternoon when I leave work, and turn west onto Fleet Street, I never resist the urge to stop, turn back, and look at one of the most beautiful views of the cathedral's dome, sitting high on it's pedestal of Ludgate Hill. (I've snapped this view in the photo at the right). It's no wonder that the view of St Paul's is protected by town planning law. These Protected Views ensure that the dome will always be seen from London's greatest vantage points, such as Hampstead Heath, Waterloo Bridge, The Tate Modern, and Richmond Park, among others.

It is accepted wisdom that the view of St Paul's was a source of inspiration for Londoners, and a symbol of the nation's determination, throughout the Second World War, and especially the blitz that razed parts of central London. Folklore suggests that this house of God survived unscathed through divine intervention. But it is more likely the case that the Luftwaffe purposely avoided a direct hit on the cathedral. With London ablaze during the Battle of Britain, the German pilots needed a navigational aid to find their targets... and, when you think about it, there was no bigger navigational aid than the dome of St Paul's.

There is a very famous photograph of St Paul's Cathedral, taken on 29 December 1940. It's often reproduced without credit, and yet remains one of the most iconic photgraphs of the war, and perhaps the definitive photograph of the United Kingdom's steadfast resolve to stop Hitler. Over this past weekend, I visited the British Library to see their new exhibit Front Page, which details the history of the British newspapers (and the rise of the tabloids) over the last 100 years, by reproducing 200 front pages. It is here that I learned the history of this photograph:

PHOTOGRAPH - War's Greatest Photograph
On 29 December 1940, Daily Mail photographer Herbert Mason braved an air raid to spend the night on the roof of Northcliffe House in Fleet Street. He captured what became the defining image of the Blitz - St. Paul's emerging defiantly from the smoke of surrounding burning buildings. The image appeared in the Daily Mail two days later, with evident retouching, under the headline 'St. Paul's Stands Unharmed in the Midst of the Burning City'. Ironically, only four weeks later, the photograph was reproduced by the Berliner Illustre Zeitung who used it not to show the resilience of the blitzed city, but to show that London was burning to the ground.

It's a fantastic photograph, made all the more interesting because of my tenuous personal connection. The Firm's offices are located in the refurbished building that once housed the Daily Mail. Every day, I take my seat in the basement of Northcliffe House, where the Mail once housed its printing machinery, and where, six floors above, Mason snapped that famous photograph. And with that in mind, each afternoon when I leave work, I look back at at sunset-drenched dome, and can't help but smile at my little connection with London's wonderful history.