Cavendish Avenue: chrome dome.

The dome, of Mad Day Out fame, en-route to the bottom of the garden at Cavendish Avenue, complete with the girlfriend of its designer, there for purely business reasons; of that there can be little doubt.
The dome provided the climax of the aforementioned Day O' Mad:


...and here is the skinny, from a contemporary newspaper report. For the journals of the time, no item of Beatle news was too trivial to report. Errr...


Many thanks to Bruno Dupont.

Kinfauns, part 1: 1953 & 1967.

Above, on the left, a sketch from the original plan of W. M. Carter, the architect who designed Kinfauns in 1953. The plan dates from August of that year, and represents "details of a proposed detached bungalow with garage to be erected at Claremont Park (The Lawn), Esher, Surrey, for R. Gray Esq.". Compare with the identical angle in a pic from 1967; the garage referred to in the plan was eventually stuck on the side of the house, adjacent to the living room.
One wonders what Messrs C and G would have made of the bungalow's highly psychedelicised state come '67 (another odd little slice of kismet on a related theme to follow in the next post).
This garage wasn't in evidence on the original floor-plan. Note that Kinfauns, in common with Kenwood and Sunny Heights, started off much smaller than it ended up:


The fireplace, also ultimately lysergicised (if you will) by the Fool, began life as follows, again from the '53 plan. The door evident in the Schwingin' Shikshtiesh shot would have led through to the aforementioned garage, though it wasn't used as such (or was it?) when George lived there:


Judging by all this, Kinfauns must have been built in late '53 or early '54 (and enlarged later). More on all this pish to follow.

Montagu Square: a blue plaque (and a piss-up).

On Saturday I attended the unveiling of a blue plaque to John, by Yoko, at Montagu Square. How weird it must have been for her to be back there after all this time. I was fortunate enough to get in to have a shufti the day before; unfortunately pics were verboten, but fascinating it was, nevertheless, and very kind of the owner. The room where the Two Virgins sleeve was shot (formerly a bedroom) is now the kitchen - but still very recognisably the same place it all once did hang. I got to spend around 20 minutes there waiting to be shown round. An interesting experience.
Outside, the following day, Yoko and "Hunt lad" did the honours, the front of the place looking pretty much identical to the time in mid-late 1968 when Yoko was last there:


Honours being honoured, Yoko went off, and everyone else proceeded round the corner to a reception, where gallons of free booze flowed, and, to a long-term Beatles saddo like me, the assembled company proved to be... stimulating. I hate name droppingGeoffreyEllisMarkLewisohnLizzieBravoBarryMilesBillHarryRoyCarrHuntladTonyBramwellTheBootlegBeatlesso I shall refrain from mentioning them that supped, and, in certain cases, endured long and gibbering dialogue with yours truly. Suffice to say that the fruits of this gibberish may appear on these pages before too long.
It was also good to finally meet Lizzie Bravo, who was sporting both a proof-copy of her book (which looked incredible) and the badge that she wore when she sang on Across The Universe. This picture accurately reflects my vision at that point. John apparently larfed at the message. As, apparently, did I.


A splendid time was had by all, and you can't say better than that.

Tittenhurst: late 1969.

By the late summer of 1969, John's facial hair had gone completely berserk. Yoko strongly advised him to shear it, and this he did, though the hair on his head wasn't to go till Denmark. Here are some photos from Tittenhurst, beard freshly defunct; the above a good view looking down from the house, the below need none more jibber jabber:


None whatsoever.

Arnhem Oosterbeek Cemetery: then & now.

The Oosterbeek War Cemetery at Arnhem provided a famous early bit of kismet, with many more to come: Their Name Liveth For Evermore, indeed. This pic captured in August 1960, en-route to Hamburg, with Lord Woodbine and The Williams(es) also much in evidence.
John, according to whom you believe, was either a) pissed (UK or US meanings, choose yer pick) in the van, refusing to come out, or b) in the cemetery, but refusing to take a pic due to anti-war sentiment (more than a bit fanciful that one, but nevertheless) or c) behind the camera, taking the pic.
Plus the same spot now, with thanks to Guus Limberger.

Kenwood (& Kinfauns): November, 1964.

This is the earliest picture of Kenwood to surface thus far - from around 4 months after John bought it. At this point there was no sunroom, and John, Cyn and Julian were all living in the attic, then still unconverted from its original layout (see Partidge plan). It's probably safe to assume that if any earlier pics come along in the future, they will be from before John's time there; and such may not even exist.
Here's the article from where the above pic came: 16 Magazine, and a straight syndication of the Chris Hutchins NME piece already featured on these pages a while back...except there's more of this, as he then goes to visit George at Kinfauns:


...which is where these pics originally came from. So they too can now be dated as November, 1964:


...or not. See comments.

Kenwood: hairy business, 1965.

Of course they couldn't just nip out for a haircut in 1965, so the hairdresser would go to them. The above obtained in that year, at Kenwood, by Betty Glasow, and currently on eBay for around £1000 per strand.

Kenwood: knee of Sydney, 1965.

Lennon Jnr the first, together with the hitherto unseen knee of Sydney, inside Kenwood circa 1965. Sydney was Ken Partridge's doing, and he (Sydney, not Partridge) stood in the entrance hall (though Partridge must also have stood in the entrance hallIamlosingthewilltolive), for a while at least:


So, was the "new" Julian pic also taken there? Note the skirting, as seen in the dining room, and the drawing room:


Again, I dunno if it was. It may have been taken in one of the above rooms when the wall mural was being taken off and exchanged for the hulking bookcase. Or not. And does it matter? Now, that I do know.

Thanks to Joe Baiardi.

Kenwood: bloody pests.

A fan photo of Cynthia at the front door, sometime in 1967 (shamelessly filched from Meet The Beatles For Real - link under Friends & Neighbours). Probably the best illustration yet of John & Terry Doran's handiwork with the spray paint - and fairly repulsive it is too.
This pic reminds me of Chris Tanner's recollections in a MOJO feature from a while back, on a theme of "Have Ye Met The Fabs?":
"Richard & I were in the 5th form at St James' Secondary School in Weybridge. This was Beatle territory in 1966. John, Paul, George & Ringo all had properties in this comfortable stockbroker belt. Richard had collected autographs from all but the "gifted" one - John Lennon. Together, on our bikes we peddled through St Georges Hills estate to the Lennon's property Kenwood. No guards on the gate (two huge oak doors carved with the names of a thousand fans). We tread the gravel driveway that sweeps through the gardens past Beatle sculptures (remember "Beatle Boots"), to the front door. Amazingly our nervous knock on the door is answered by Cynthia Lennon complete with tinted glasses. We ask if John is home and Cynthia sweetly tells us to try on Tuesday. Is this lady dumb? Allowing two non-descript schoolboys to sally forth again! Tuesday arrived and once again we knocked on the door. This time there was a protracted, nervous wait on the step. The door opened and blue jeans, t-shirt and shock of Beatle's locks greeted us. "Hi John. Err wondered if you could autograph this album" "Give it 'ere, bloody pests". John signed the album and two school chums went home very happy.
Great story but here's the crack. Me, not really into the Beatles...more a Stones man, didn't bother with John's autograph. So now I can only look back and reflect on our meeting and the fact that Richard (wherever he is) is considerably richer than me!"

Manchester Square: EMI House.

Another little bit of London long gone: down the side of EMI House in Manchester Square sat some stairs, upon which le Ringo et al squatted on 5 March, 1963. All gone now, inevitably, but still there then, in the mid-90s, when the above pic was taken by Guus Limberger.
A then & then (note Sir George keeping a watchful eye on le Ringo (et al)):


And another:


Many thanks again go to Guus.

Kenwood: gates & ghosts.

The gate at Kenwood, circa 1976, as pictured by Guus Limberger; clearly, light has corrupted the film, giving it an odd, eerie quality. Though Guus took lots of photos, this is the only one that came out.
A couple of points: the heavy sliding gate that John installed was still in use at this point; and the sign that recently appeared for sale on eBay appears to be this one:


During the 70s, Kenwood was owned by the songwriter Bill Martin. A then & now poolside shot can be found on his website HERE. Bill recently appeared on Radio Merseyside talking about his time as owner of the auld pile, and told an interesting  tale relating to the night John died and things that go smash in the night, not that you will find me repeating it here, oh no, not me.
This, o' course, is not the first bit of supernatural gubbins related by a former owner; anyone who read the John H interview on these pages will recall the ghostly bearded man in white who appeared in the attic. And Fred Lennon's then girlfriend Pauline was terrified of the place when she slept there during the latter part of 1967.
Whatever one makes of all this, Bill spins a good yarn; here's hoping he finally writes the memoir he has been threatening for the last few years.
Finally, a more recent Joe Baiardi shot showing the gate, and the buggy originally bought by Bill, which can be seen in the Thames At 6 footage. By this point it had migrated outside the grounds:


Many thanks to Guus and to Joe.

St Pancras Church: yet more MDO.

A couple of less often seen MDO shots, together with their then & nows, above & below:


Self-explanatory, so I'll spare you:


This, however, may be of slightly more interest; a shot from 1941 showing not only the effects of the Luftwaffe on buildings directly opposite the church, but the plinth, then lacking its obelisk, also in place in 1968 and 2010:


These bombed out buildings were, of course, subsequently razed, to be replaced by the rather splendid art-deco tower block known as Cecil Rhodes House - which later loomed pleasingly in another favourite MDO pic, and continues to do so to this day:


In an impressive feat of incompetence, I managed to cock up the Coroner's Court shot for a second time, so once again that will have to wait (not that it matters).

Kenwood: a map with bottles in etc.

Extreme trivia this may be, but many of the fixtures and fittings from the Lennon-era Kenwood have appeared on the open market - largely as a result of Cynthia's "car boot sale" in the early '90s. Above can be seen the Asprey's globe cocktail cabinet (or, in John's words, the "map of the world that has bottles in it") that sat from 1965-1968 in the den; in-situ in Cathy Kelleher Sarver's snapshot from '68, then, below that, over Tony Wilson's shoulder as he interviewed Cynthia at home in the mid-1980s, and finally at auction in 1991, where its estimate was £600-800.
Cynthia also interviewed Julian chez...err...Penrith around this time, and one or two bits of Kenwood detritus can be seen floating about (not literally). For example, the lithograph after Basilus Besler, which used to hang in the dining room at Kenwood; for a second time, to the rear of Julian:


At one point, the pair are pictured going through some old scrap-books of family snaps, some of which are instantly recognisable to anyone who follows this guff:


...and some of which, intriguingly enough, aren't.
Cynthia's Kenwood residue was sold over three auctions at Christie's, and included one or two other very familiar bits and pieces, such as the Persian rug from the sunroom, as pictured on June 29, 1967:


Julian has been re-buying a lot of these items, and a book is soon to appear on this very subject.

Kenwood: drawing room, 1965.

Another shot from the 1965 session that also produced these (amongst many others), showing the drawing room at Kenwood just before Ken Partridge's decor was scrapped:


Many thanks to Jeannette for the new pic; her Beatle progeny site can be found here.

3 Savile Row: 1976 and all that.

Apple finally got rid of its lease on 3 Savile Row in October, 1976. The above pic, from that year, illustrates the by-then pitiful condition of the building: "OUT" indeed. Still the old Apple front door hung on, as seen to the rear of Ringo's Rotogravure:


Apparently, the door now resides in storage, having been salvaged by Neil Aspinall for what remained of Apple the company, before the lease was sold on Apple the building (though I've also heard a rumour that John had it shipped over to the Dakota). At any rate, as the door, so the building: the windows smashed, the exterior dirt-smeared... the place was "fooked", within and without. In bits, too, the fabled home of Apple Scruffs a.k.a. the steps (probably damaged by workmen lugging their smashing machinery in and out, or else chipped away at by naughty memento-seeking fans). The Scruffs actually appeared much more together than Apple (or the steps) by the end, having membership cards, a magazine, and even stationery, as the following sheet, plucked from the teetering pile of Beatles crud that threatens to overwhelm my bedroom, shows:


Plans from the early 70s suggest that 3 Savile Row had undergone conversion from an office to a production suite (and been gutted in the process - see posts passim). At least, so say the plans - I'm not sure the work was ever actually completed. Anyway, another shot from '76: a reasonable guess is that this one is post-lease, as work appears to have begun to tidy the place up again:


The basement door to the Apple studio was still in place at that point:


Nowadays, as these contemporary pics show, there is nothing left down there from the Apple era; numerous renovations have seen the lot replaced:


Finally, a shot from a few years back, with the building looking much more spruce, but temporarily semi-detached due to the demolition of its neighbour to the left:


Many thanks to Guus Limberger for the first '76 pic, Wim de Lang for the other two '76 pics, and to Christopher Bourke for the more recent shot.

Madingley Club/Ducks Walk: then & now.

A return to the scene of that April '69 photo session (Madingley Club/Ducks Walk). As has been seen, the club itself ist kaput long time. Above is what's there now; everything vaguely similar, and completely different. (I have a feeling it would make more sense to visit in the bleak mid-winter.) Below, a fairly pathetic attempt to splice 1969 into 2010, always a poor idea:


After being pictured lounging against the Roller in the car park, they moved along to Ducks Walk for a spot of messing about on the river, probably via this passage, which may or may not be where the '69 shot was taken:


When you get to Ducks Walk, there is a gate, and a sign warning that to proceed to the river is at your own risk. The path is now very overgrown, but it does lead to a small...well, "dock" is too grand a word. But presumably this is where they "pushed off" from. If so, you can see the island, which served as the focus for the final photos on that day, on the right:


Again, things have no doubt changed in the interim, but the vantage point at the end of the path certainly seems to provide the same perspective:


The by now extremely bushy island:


Thanks to The Beatles' London, and to the City of London/London Metropolitan Archive for permission to use the old Madingley Club pic, and to Julian Carr, yet again.