Interesting Buildings Of Sittingbourne
Sittingbourne often gets overlooked architecturally when you compare it with some of it's neighbouring towns, this shouldn't be the case, so we've asked Freya, who grew up in Sittingbourne resident and has recently completed a degree in architecture if this was the case. You'll be surprised at what she found.
Spotting architectural detail amongst Sittingbourne’s buildings
Going to school in Sittingbourne and knowing the town fairly well, I was a bit unsure as to whether it actually HAD any interesting architecture. But coming back after 4 years of architecture school, I was hoping to look afresh at the town.
Like many British towns, what Sittingbourne lacks in ‘interesting’ in its latest architectural additions, such as the pending retail park by the station, it makes up for in historical snippets here and there. Easy to uncover also are flashes of personality between the brick and concrete. A great example are the public toilets on a small triangular outcrop of pavement between the Library and the high street. Curved thresholds with vertical lines to create texture in the concrete wallwork, royal blue guttering, potted plants and pink yellow and white sprays of flowers in head-height planters, irregular windows made of tiny panes of thick obscured glass adorned with colourful stickers and miniature metal porticos overhanging entrance points.
As you carry on down the High street, looking up above the bustle and tack of ground floor level reveals the first and second floors of some more interesting facades. Burton’s black storefront is topped by an ornate art deco decorative façade with faux columns and old-style logo ‘Burton: the Tailor of Taste’. This unusual exterior may even date back to the 30s, when Burton adopted a ‘gentleman’s club’ aesthetic and hired an architect to make sure the building which housed the store lived up to the same. The irony is that the top floor of Burtons would traditionally house ballrooms or snooker/billiard halls for alcohol-free ‘Gentlemanly’ activities, whereas in Sittingbourne the blacked-out windows of the first floor hide a sticky-floored club wittily called ‘Nightlife’.
Walking further down the high street reveals more surprising architecture. Above the WHSmith’s, an intricate brick house with domed and triangular window reveals; a white portico held by white columns beside the Greggs; all contrasted by the entrance to the Forum, ironically named and logo-d with ancient Rome in mind but whose entrance looks more like a set piece from a cheap sci-fi movie. Above TUI, a central black-framed large window is topped by a circular hole in the facade through which the sky can be seen. Nestled slightly away from the high street is the Holy Trinity Parish Hall, whose bricked walls and columns gently curve upwards to a point.
A rusting gas station, which I enjoy for its gravity defining stick-thin legs. The local Spoons – The Golden Hope – even has an enjoyable architectural folly – a small windowed lookout poking just above the ridge of the roof. Further on down the Red Lion sits beside one of many large square alleyways leading into the high street – spaces for horse drawn carriages which have evolved into back alleys. The Red Lion, originally the Lyon, hosted King Henry V of England on his way back from the battle of Agincourt.
Hidden through one of these square alleyways are a series of shambled doors, broken windows, stacks of tiles and rickety metal stairways rusting away but worm with regular use. A small building, the Jesus People Church, is tucked away with a white elaborate entranceway and peeling paint. Towards the end of the high street, St Michaels Church, which has stood there since the 13th Century, and sat contrastingly beside it, the New Century Cinema, built in the 30s, as is made clear by an unusual art deco façade.
As I came to the end of the High Street it struck me how it didn’t take much looking at all to find interesting snapshots of Sittingbourne’s history.