One of Foster’s ‘worst’ can, of course, be assumed to have been pretty dammed good anyway, and I have no reports of the response. It is a credit to both Lord Foster and his partners that, throughout the life of the practice, there has been a policy of rigorous reviews at multiple stages during the design development of all projects. To my delight, I was exposed to the process during a collaboration that my then firm was once privileged to undertake with the Foster organisation. Would that more offices had such commitment and courage in utilising design reviews, especially those involving external critics!

But the quote can be equally directed, albeit in modified form, towards those responsible for the recent installations that have so savagely violated Stansted Airport’s main terminal building. It is only fitting that they should be asked: ‘Why would you put your worst into one of Foster’s best?’

I won’t describe in detail Foster’s design (with credits to partner Spencer de Grey) in its rich and refined glory – most of you will know it. However, the drawings below, showing a typical section, and one of the ‘trees’ with their circa 36 metre centres, will be a reminder. These provided the principal organisational components of the design, establishing its aesthetic character, and will act as a reminder of the breathtaking clarity of the basic diagram, together with the beauty of the ordered and elegant high-tech language of the interior.

If you want a fuller ‘refresher’ just look up Colin Davies’s brilliant ‘How it was built’ study in the May 1991 issue of Architectural Review. Alas, we could never, in our wildest dreams, have imagined what was to come.

The following images, all taken by me during recent years, speak for themselves in terms of the wanton and appalling damage that has been visited upon this once-great building. They represent nothing short of vandalism. Note the crudeness of the interventions, for example the dreadful junctions of cheap partitions with the structural trees that once also functioned as information hubs (flight information, time etc), but today merely support the elegant roof, the underside of which is now extensively sealed from view. 

Consider the retail zone. As would be expected, its meandering form maximises shop frontages and sales space, but only at the severe cost of disorientating passengers. It has rendered Foster’s once-clear planning all but illegible to the traveller; it extends the walking distance from security clearance to the departure/beverage area from around 70 metres to a ‘gauntlet’ of approaching half a kilometre in length. Notably, so irrelevant are they to their new context, Foster’s ‘trees’ do not even feature on the wayfinding diagram as illustrated below.

Apart from the destruction of the spatial ‘legibility’ that hitherto assisted way- finding, calming travellers and so enriching their experience, I also mourn the blocking of external views ‘plane-side’. These heightened the anticipation and wonder of the excitement ahead, reinforcing the sense of purpose and pleasure in travel from the outset of the journey.

It should be remembered that the Stansted design followed in the immediate aftermath of the grim and dreadful Terminal 4 at Heathrow. In timely fashion, Foster had stepped into the field of aviation to demonstrate the value of architecture and the possibilities that can be released given worthy ambition.

In the words of Lord Palumbo, Stansted, as originally conceived, served to ‘lift the spirit’ of all who would use the building and all who would work there. It was a national gateway to be proud of as we left, and something hinting at the best of what Britain can offer to all who arrived.

Revealed within the photos below are just some of the vulgar and absurd elements of this dreadful violation of what is one of the most public of public spaces – a fact that serves only to heighten the travesty that has ensued.

From the security/departures hall:

The retail zone from above:

Exiting the meandering mall:

The food and beverage area:

Escape gateside:

Finally, arrivals:

How has this all been allowed to happen? In part, the answer lies in privatisation. Stansted came under the control of the British Airports Authority in 1966. The iconic new terminal was opened by the Queen in 1991. But following BAA’s 1986 privatisation the rot had already set in, and in no short time a profusion of advertising banners and worse was beginning to adulterate the interior. But the real wreckers arrived following the forced sale of the airport to MAG (Manchester Airports Group). This resulted from the 2009 decision of the (then) Competition Commission, that there was a ‘lack of competition between London’s three main airports all owned by the same company’.

Only outside can we now witness the true glory of the original work:

To their eternal credit, the Foster team’s efforts had reawakened the aspirations of the great railway station architecture of the 19th century, which had been all but lost in most transport buildings of the 20th century. (Rare exceptions include BDP’s bus station in Preston.)

It is particularly galling that the newly named BAA (it changed its name to a set of initials, obliterating its Airport Authority origins), under whom the wanton damage to Stansted started, plus the Manchester Airport Authority, whose tenure has served only to intensify the brutalization, have done their worst.

Stansted promised renewed hope for patronage and better architecture for these most public of building genres. Those involved in its desecration should be utterly ashamed of their ghastly assault on our senses.