Sunny Heights: demolition.

Sad news to report. Elmbridge Council, in their infinite wisdom, have waived through planning permission to demolish Sunny Heights. A Russian oligarch is about to flatten it in order to build the structure on the right. A contact on St George's Hill informs me that the house is still standing (it's an artist's impression above, not an actual photo), but is abandoned, awaiting destruction.
It should be stated that the new owner hasn't done anything wrong here, but at the same time, to take Russia as an example, it would be unthinkable there that someone could buy up, say, Tolstoy's house in order to destroy it.
Now, you may think that comparing Ringo to Tolstoy is ridiculous, and you'd be right - but I'd argue that it's in no way ridiculous to compare the Beatles as cultural giants in their sphere with any of the great Russian authors in theirs. The difference is that in Russia (as in many other countries) they tend to revere their culture, and want to protect places associated with the great figures of the past. Which, as in this case, is not always true here.
So that's Kinfauns and Sunny Heights gone. A shame.

Kenwood, Kinfauns & Sunny Heights: summer, 1967.

Way back in the summer o' '67, had you made your way to St George's Hill and utilised the naughty knocker at Kenwood, this might have been what shambled forth as a result - a fabulously dishevelled John, resplendent in dressing gown, talisman and norralot else.

A colour shot of the caravan from around the same time:

George outside Kinfauns, engaged in 'graphs:

Mr Starkey at the front door of dear old Sunny Heights, likewise:

I've stitched the following further Sunny ones together (each is a composite of 2 separate photos, fact fans) to provide a wider perspective. The upper floor here was home to the Den, where the Fabs did frequently hang:

No idea who took the black and white ones, but should you ever happen to read this then please do get in touch for a credit - I'd like to hear the story behind them. Thanks also to Joe Baiardi for passing on the colour caravan shot.

Kenwood/Sunny Heights/Kinfauns: video footage, c. late 1990s.

Some "new" footage of Kenwood (up the drive and back again), a smidgeon of Sunny Heights, and a bit of Kinfauns, very shortly before it was demolished. Oh and a few obligatory "then unt nau"s, plus more of John's Kennie attic mellotron meanderings for noise value (which, the attentive viewer will note, run out before the end, due to wanton "can't be arsed-ness" on my part).

All filming done late 1990s by Nick Cowburn, on good old VHS, and many thanks to him for agreeing to put it up here, as it were.

Sunny Heights: shiznizzle II.

Further estate agent niznit:


Inside too, much remains just as it was; Ringo's decor, there still under wood paneling. And his cinema, famous to contemporary readers of the BBM, endures (albeit updated):


Lovely stuff. Not my words, but the words of etc.

Sunny Heights: shiznizzle.

Sunny is back on the market, this time as a rental (if you have to ask, you can't etc.), and some splendid new photos have been "done" to accompany the ads.
Note: all that remains of the Flying Cow these days are the authentic pub glass window panes. The bar, housed in a small ground floor room, survived into the 90s, before going to make way for an expanded dining room:


That wall was built by Ringo, or rather by Bricky Builders on behalf of Ringo. The pool is new(er):


The grounds a little more ordered these days:


That's all.
Thanks Guus.

Sunny Heights: Ringo's mural.

As has been seen, the mural that Ringo had "done" at Sunny Heights in 1967, remarkably, endures. Here's a closer look:


The artist turns out to have been one Dudley Edwards. He had been staying with Paul at Cavendish Avenue (where he painted the piano in the upstairs music room), before moving on to Sunny Heights. Whilst chez Richie, he "done" this:


More detail:


He also visited John at Kenwood during this period, where he managed to almost drown in the pool; John had to drag him out and revive him. Edwards was also responsible for the paint job at John Crittle's Dandy Fashions on the Kings Road, which later, o' course, turned into Apple Tailoring:


Thanks to Joe Baiardi for some o' this shizzle.

Sunny Heights: another blue window.

Ringo in the custom built Leisure Wing at Sunny Heights, mid-Summer o' Etc. The above pic one of Tammy's latest batch, but there, I think, the wrong way round. This was the extension to the extension, an odd little add-on behind the projector room, the point of which is unknown; but notice - it's a blue window.
John, o' course, had a blue window installed in the attic at Kenwood around this time (later, as we have seen, to be removed and then lost):


So what was it with the blue windows? Why blue? And why windows? Why, I ask ye? I, once again, dunno. (It may well have been nothing more than one of them doing it, and the other copying.)
From straight on, it seems there wouldn't be room for windows either side of the round one:


Yet from side on, there clearly is:


Odder.
Palpable nonsense.

Sunny Heights: July, 1976.

A couple of photos of Sunny Heights, former abode of the "Schnoz", taken by Guus Limberger in the summer of 1976. Not sure who owned the place at this time, or how much reconstruction had gone on:


Many thanks to Guus for these.

Sunny Heights: then & now - part 5.

I've wittered on about this at ridiculous length before, so I'll try to keep this brief: the plans showing the extent of Ringo's extension (Missus). The former site of his cinema (or projector room), much mentioned in the pages of the Beatles Book monthly, marked by the arrow:


The original house, whilst by no means a modest dwelling, was nevertheless considerably more so than by the time Messrs Bricky and Builders had finished with it...and it's even bigger today, having undergone subsequent expansion since. Here's the bit of the '65 plan showing the garage, and its outcome:


Riveting stuff.

Sunny Heights: more January '67 tache action.

A couple more pics from the Sunny Heights session, complete with poodle, tache etc etc.


Many thanks to Bruno Dupont for these.

Sunny Heights: then and now, part 4.

Ringo owned Sunny Heights for around 4 and a half years. Concurrently, he also had the lion's share of a construction company - Bricky Builders, and as a result went hog wild on the house. Immediately upon buying Sunny, what amounted to another residence was tacked on the side; it was this bit that played host to Ringo's exclusive club - called, after much thought, The Club. The Fabs spent more time socially at Sunny Heights than at any of the other Beatle houses; John, in particular, was always here between 1965 and 1967, when not...somewhere else. The Club had a bar, and a pool table imported from the States - unusual in the UK at that time.
There was also a garage to house the various de rigeur automobiles. Tammy recently posted a pic taken at Sunny shortly after the new extension had been completed; what's obvious is that in true St George's Hill style, an extension to the extension was put on at some point - the garage is considerably bigger these days:


Mind you, it's quite possible Ringo was responsible for that too; the news section of the Beatles Book monthly seemed forever to be recounting building work at Sunny Heights during the era o' Richie.
Bricky Builders also worked on Kenwood - I wouldn't be surprised if they built the large garage overlooking the swimming pool. What's more, the firm constructed quite a few properties from scratch in the Home Counties of England, though precisely where these are I don't know. It would be interesting to see if they bear any influence from Sunny/Kenwood or Kinfauns.
The last glimpse of Beatle-era Sunny Heights comes in the opening few seconds of the promo film for The Ballad Of John And Yokos, where said John and Yokos are seen coming out the front door and climbing into their Rolls, circa early summer 1969; three years previously, Ringo was photographed in the same location, dicking about on his girly wheels (for want of better expressions):


Thanks to Joe Baiardi for the bike pic.

Sunny Heights: then & now, part 3.

The living room at Sunny Heights, then as now, leads onto the back terrace; it, at least, appears to have endured:


If you are anything like me, you look at these iconic images and think, "Yes, that's all very well indeed, but what lurks behind that window/door/copy of the Times?"
In this case, thrillingly, a dining room:


And apropos of nothing and everything, the feedback at the start of It's All Too Much, as rendered on the remasters, is a thing of awe at volume.

Sunny Heights: then & now, part 2.

Contemporary views of the master bedroom and en-suite overlooking the distinctive balcony at the rear of the property, together with exterior shots from you know when.
The main drawing room, compared with the Ringo era, is almost unrecognisable these days, with not a lava lamp or inflatable Pluto in sight. The brickwork chimney is long gone too. However, the door leading onto the terrace, where John was famously pictured in proto-Pepper gear, remains:

Sunny Heights: then & now, part 1.

As we've seen, from behind the house looks much the same as when Ringo lived there. The grounds have been significantly altered, however, with part sold off to provide land for another mansion.
The swimming pool is also new; it's situated on roughly the same spot as this very much tached-up photo:


Inside, the house has inevitably undergone a lot of renovation. But, fairly astonishingly, the none-more-psychedelic painting evident in a couple of Ringo-at-home shots from 1967 is still there:


From this angle, it's evident that it was painted straight onto the wall:


That subsequent owners have chosen to preserve this painting beggars belief, given the general attitude of Sic Transit Gloria Mundi ("Slash & Burn" to you and me) that usually informs renovation on St George's Hill; yet there it is. A small relic of the Beatle Belt abides.
More to follow...

Sunny Heights: for sale - January, 1969.

And after all that nonsense, back to this: Sunny Heights, as advertised for sale in the pages of Country Life magazine, January 23, 1969. "Recently the subject of very considerable expenditure"...you are not joking, mi amigo.
John was ostensibly living here at this time, as Kenwood had just been sold. Or had it? I've recently seen pictures of Kenwood labelled April, 1969, which have John's white Roller outside the front entrance. When exactly was the place sold? And when did John stop living there?
Anyway, Sunny Heights didn't find a buyer for at least a year - and in fact, Ringo returned in September, 1969 for a brief period, before moving to Highgate in London on December 5.
I think this pic is also from inside Sunny, ca. 1968:


Many thanks to Sentimentalist for these.

Sunny Heights: 1968 part 2 - in!

A splendid shot of Ringo inside Sunny Heights in 1968, getting on for the end of the White Album sessions, again judging by hair, not to mention ruffle. As can be seen: Ringo's lava lamp is of a different hue to John's. He has this photo on display on the left hand window-sill. He was known to enjoy an inflatable Pluto from time to time. And yes, the poodle is present and correct. (Are there any photos of Ringo inside Sunny Heights which don't feature either children or poodles?) Merci Bruno Dupont for sharing this one.

Sunny Heights: 1968 part 1 - oot!

Judging by the hair, this is circa White Album. Not a happy time, and not a particularly happy Ringo by the looks of things. John (when not telling them to "Sod Off" or sending Julian to tell them to "Sod Off"), Paul and even George (though as likely to dispense a lecture as an autograph)(and woe betide anyone who touched his tulips, messed with his marigolds, or bothered his errr...begonias) would sometimes open the door to fans and be fairly amenable. Ringo, though usually happy to send an autograph out (with peace and love), generally refused (presumably also with peace and love) to come to the door and indulge in jibber-jabber with the "fannage". (Apparently). Not in the case illustrated above, however, captured outside the front door of Sunny Heights. Many thanks to Joe Baiardi for these candid pics.