About
Because a great many old pubs have that special quality called ‘atmosphere’, some of those functionaries responsible for refurbishing knackered pubs think that atmosphere can be created by adding oldness. They don’t realise that atmosphere is much more to do with the way the space is divided and arranged, and so they knock the whole place into one big room, stick some fake beams to the ceiling, nail a few plastic cutlasses to the wall, frame some copies of old theatre bills and hang them on the wall beside the cutlasses, wire up the stereo speakers and wonder why there’s no atmosphere.
Ben Davis was an architect who specialised in pubs, working through the 1950s, 60s and 70s, and he was one of the few not of such a persuasion. In his book The Traditional English Pub, he lays out an entirely different philosophy.
“One can imagine a pub which, other things being equal, would be ideal for everyday use: a labyrinth of loosely connected interior spaces, intersected by see-through partitions, equipped with alcoves and changes of level in floor and ceiling, indeterminate in plan shape; enclosed in warm-coloured, well rubbed, semi-lustrous surfaces, mostly of natural materials and gleaming glass; linked with the great outdoors by fleeting glimpses of the street or countryside; having pools of glowing light in mellow surroundings; not over-furnished, the tables, stools and benches of strong timber subtly formed, burnished by contact with generations of arse and elbow; fitted with a modest counter having a polished and moulded hardwood top.”
The Laxfield Low House need not be imagined. It’s a labyrinth all right, with some startling changes of level in floor and many well rubbed surfaces. The one thing it doesn’t have is a counter, modest or otherwise. You have to queue at the tap-room doorway.