Monthly Archives: December 2024

The Mouse Man

Robert Thompson workshop, Kilburn, North Yorkshire

Robert Thompson (1876-1955) was the son of a North Yorkshire joiner, also called Robert Thompson, whose forward-thinking mind inclined him to send his son to serve an engineering apprenticeship in Cleckheaton, West Yorkshire.  At the end of five years young Robert nevertheless joined his father’s business as a carpenter, yet his heart was in studying and practising the craft skills he’d discovered in the medieval woodwork of Ripon Cathedral during his travels between his home village of Kilburn and the West Riding.

Robert aspired to the ideals of craft production and disliked the mechanical rigour of industrial design.  Alongside the business of serving his clients’ practical requirements in an agricultural community he quietly built up the means to pursue his craft, laying down oak timber to be seasoned in the old way in the fresh air for up to five years.

One of the most distinctive features of his work is the use of the adze, rather than a modern plane, to create a distinctive dappled effect on timber surfaces.

A commission from Father Paul Nevill of Ampleforth College for an oak crucifix for the college cemetery (1919) established his reputation for ambitious woodwork of fine quality.  From the initial commissions that followed he quickly adopted his trademark of carving a tiny mouse in some unobtrusive part of each piece, representing his motto of “industry in quiet places”.

There are Robert Thompson mice all over North Yorkshire and much farther afield, on furniture and fittings in churches, pubs, commercial buildings, houses, schools and colleges.

Roy Hattersley, writing an obituary for another outstanding craftsman, David Mellor (1930-2009), quoted William Morris’s precept “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”

Robert Thompson lived his life on the basis of that principle, and left a business that continues to thrive in the hands of four of his great-grandsons.

If you’re in the region of the Hambleton Hills, find your way to Kilburn and take a look at Robert Thompson’s workshop, still in production:  Home (robertthompsons.co.uk).

And if you think to look at the price-list, sit down first:  Ecommerce Price List (robertthompsons.co.uk).

You get what you pay for.

Memorial to a much-loved bassist

Andy Rourke mural, The Wheatsheaf, Oak Street, Northern Quarter, Manchester

Andy Rouke (1964-2023), the highly-regarded bass-player of the 1980s Manchester band The Smiths, died of pancreatic cancer, and the loss has had a huge impact on his fans and admirers.

Mike Joyce, the Smiths’ drummer, picked up his wife Bee’s suggestion of a wall mural as a way of commemorating Andy and his exceptional musical legacy.  He knew the exact image to capture his friend when they were both playing in the band, an image taken at the Caird Hall, Dundee by the photographer Nalinee Darmrong who had travelled with them on tour in 1985-86.  Other images from that time are at You’ve Got to See This Local Photographer’s Book About Her Teenage Years Touring With the Smiths – Washingtonian.

Mike Joyce recruited the Manchester muralist Akse P19 to render Nalinee Darmrong’s image in his precisely detailed manner.  His work has been enriching the local streetscape since 1992:  Akse P19 | Greater Mancunians

Andy Rourke frequented the Wheatsheaf pub on Oak Street in the Northern Quarter, and the current landlords, Robert Ashton and Lisa Booth, immediately offered the gable wall overlooking their car park with the approval of the building’s owner, Admiral Taverns.  Andy’s family gave their blessing to the project.

Against a black background, the 30 feet × 20 feet monochrome image is startling.  Nalinee Darmrong, who travelled from Washington DC to see the finished mural, characterised it as “hard to see, but…also beautiful to see”, “bittersweet but amazing”:  ‘Incredible’ mural of The Smiths legend Andy Rourke unveiled on side of Manchester pub – Manchester Evening News.

Mike Rourke’s crowdfunding campaign in conjunction with Pancreatic Cancer Action Network raised nearly £29,000:  Andy Rourke of The Smiths mural – a Creative & Arts crowdfunding project in Manchester by Mike Joyce

More information about this form of cancer can be found at Pancreatic Cancer UK – We bring more than hope and donations can be made to Donate to Pancreatic Cancer UK – Pancreatic Cancer UK.

Putting the heart in the city

Leah’s Yard, Cambridge Street, Sheffield (2010) © Mike Higginbottom
Leah’s Yard, Cambridge Street, Sheffield (2024) © Hasna Khan

Leah’s Yard, so long unrecognised except by historians and industrial archaeologists, is at last established as the jewel in the crown of Sheffield’s game-changing Heart of the City development.

In an astute comment to an article in the Sheffield Tribune in October 2023, Robin Hughes pointed out that the prehistory of Heart of the City goes back to the 1960s when Sheffield City Council decided not to demolish much of the city centre to accommodate a ring road inside the inner ring road and awarded the flagship retail site on Cambridge Street to what was then Cole Brothers. 

Subsequent development schemes came and went, yet the beauty of Heart of the City, led by the Director of City Centre Development, Nalin Seneviratne from 2017, is its piecemeal but coherent configuration, which has respected many though not all the surviving heritage buildings.

Most people who think about it would describe Leah’s Yard as a set of “little mesters” workshops, where the myriad small craftsmen worked together in close co-operation at their highly specialised metal trades for which Sheffield has been celebrated for centuries.

In fact, in its early days Leah’s Yard belonged to single occupants, initially a toolmaker, George Linley, who occupied the site in either 1817 or 1825.  By 1842 it had become John Morton’s Coalpit Lane Horn Works, making handles for cutlery and knives.

(The coal pit was an outcrop where Furnival Gate now runs.  Coalpit Lane was renamed when the Duke of Cambridge laid the foundation stone of the Crimea Monument at the top of The Moor in 1857.)

The works remained a horn manufactory until a die-stamper, Henry Leah, took over in 1891.

The Leahs found they had more room than they needed for their business and let space to up to eighteen different tradesmen at one time.  By the beginning of the twentieth century Leah’s Yard was indeed a little mesters’ workplace.

Henry Leah’s son, grandson and great-grandson successively ran the place until 1976 when their business was amalgamated with Spear & Jackson.

The site was listed Grade II* in 1983 for its rarity and completeness.  This presented difficulties for development planners and arguably ensured that the heritage buildings around Cambridge Street should be incorporated in the new build.

Leah’s Yard had no future as a museum piece, and the patina of grime and grit has had to go.  I’m told that the restoration had more latitude than would have been possible in a historically accurate recreation.

Scrubbed up but outwardly intact, managed by local entrepreneurs James O’Hara and Tom Wolfenden, Leah’s Yard is already proving a magnet for high-end retailers and small businesses:  the digital news outlet Tribune has relocated to the Yard, as has the podcast creator Persephonica.

Leah’s Yard preserves a precious though not unique piece of Sheffield’s heritage, echoing the diversity of the industrial past.

Its significance deserves light-touch interpretative displays so that visitors can discover the meaning of the place.

Meanwhile, the planners’ next dilemma sits across the road, where the former Cole Brothers store is waiting for a fresh purpose.