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Peter’s Eulogy

Thank you all for being here. It is so nice to see everyone after all this time.  I hope you will join with me and the family and see today as a chance to celebrate Dad and share some light hearted stories about his life.  It was a good life. We have received many lovely messages with memories of him and the recurring themes were his hearty laugh, his energy and enthusiasm, but most of all, his passion for a project.

 Dad was born at number 10 Matlock Road in Norwich, under the proverbial shadow of Carrow Road and with the subsequent burden of a lifelong casual support of Norwich City Football Club.  He would always be seen on his commute wearing the iconic canary and green scarf, which on occasion would pique the interest of a fellow fan.  Dad was adept at managing these conversations, given his great love of the team, if lesser knowledge. 

 On one occasion, the scarf was the catalyst for a conversation when Dad flew back from a site visit in Edinburgh. It was between him and none other than Sir Alex Ferguson, which Dad assured us was started by Sir Alex.  The story goes that, after an exchange of acknowledgements when dad put on his scarf, they headed off the plane separately, only for Sir Alex to catch up with Dad to talk about how tricky Norwich had been for Manchester United in the good old days.

Those good old days for Dad were spent at Norwich School situated in the beautiful surroundings of the Cathedral Close. This was where his love of cathedrals and beautiful buildings was formed.  School assembly was held in the Cathedral and every morning from the pews Dad was given the perfect opportunity to examine the columns and  structure of the ceiling. 

 Dad was artistic and his interest in drawing buildings developed during his school years. He was a good student and so when a teacher recommended against an Oxbridge application he ignored this suggestion, with the support of his father, and it was to Cambridge he went.  Before being accepted at Jesus College, he had a third year sixth at school.  This meant there was a greater opportunity for drawing, but also for getting into mischief.  He once told me that there had been a French horn on the wall of the common room his entire stay at Norwich School.  One afternoon when no drawing was to be done, and perhaps at the encouragement of some friends, the horn was liberated from the wall and played a full volume until the house master burst through the door.  After listening to this story, I needed no further inspiration to take up the trumpet at school.

 The summer before University, Dad went hitch hiking through Europe to Israel with a schoolfriend, which certainly inspired us children to travel. His stories, from the The Kfar Blum Kibbutz in Upper Galilee, standing waist deep in the fish ponds catching the very spiny St Peter’s fish, sleeping on rooftops in the desert and watching the sun rise on Masada were the perfect adventures to encourage our own exploration.

 At University Dad took part in rugby for Jesus College, scoring in his first and last game as well as rowing the bumps in the rugby boat.  The race we heard of most was when he slid off his seat during the opening stroke and, unable to stop rowing, continued to finish the bumps on the rails.  They must have bumped the boat in front because as the weeks went on they rowed up the order finishing first and winning their oar.

Although at Jesus, Dad spent most of his time at the Architecture Faculty. A recreational pursuit that is now part of their folk-law was bicycle polo. This is perhaps a little known sport and best if you borrow a bike rather than use your own! I’ll always remember the story Dad told about bicycle polo mallet repairs.  In need of a suitable adhesive to repair the mallet, Dad and a friend went to the art studio after hours and found a can of spray mount.  A lot of spray mount was required and so someone had the idea of opening the can by piercing it with a surveyor’s javelin.  It is not quite clear who, but whoever it was, as they reached back to plunge the javelin into the can, struck the tubular ceiling light, causing it to shatter and short circuit the whole room, only then did they follow through and pierce the can causing a mixture of glue and glass to fill the pitch black studio.  One side of dad’s clothes were neatly covered in a line spray mounted glass and a hasty escape was required.

 The other set of stories which intrigued us were the infamous water fights which took place in the Glasshouse. This was an experimental house lived in by a fellow architecture student who was also the ‘caretaker’.  With no supersoakers in those days, washing up liquid bottles were the weapons of choice or a fully laden pan from the kitchen.  One such story turned into a cautionary tale for us as children and we were warned never to carry a pan full of water up the stairs lest your best mate at the top of the stairs kicks said pan of water all over you.

 And of course, Cambridge was also the setting in which he and his great friend Dave went looking for some fun with girls! Through a mutual school friend, Dave knew of a group of trainee teachers at Homerton. So they cycled up Hills Road to number 183 and the rest is history …..  this fateful trip brought Pete Shaw and Sally Rutherford together.  Thank goodness for Dave Kent.

 Other stories included jumping off the roof of the faculty onto a bouncy castle, building a Gaudi vault, staying up all night drawing to help a friend complete their portfolio, witness another friend reverse their car over a model building and enjoying the great dart board at The Six Bells with a pint or two.  The architects worked hard and played hard for those 7 years.

 The hard work included an undergraduate dissertation and with the Alhambra possibly being Dad’s favourite building, it was the obvious choice. He had first visited it with Rusty and friends in 1973, long before it became so well known. For some reason Dad’s tutor thought it an ill-advised choice but characteristically Dad wasn’t to be put off.  He hitchhiked to Southern Spain the following year and the project was started. Further photos were required so the following Easter he drove with mum to Granada. It is such a beautiful place and Dad took many photos with a very complicated camera by today’s standards, only to find that they had all been taken with the wrong light meter reading. It was necessary to return the following morning. So it was up early and Dad was first in the queue with Mum just behind with instructions to fumble with her pesetas and generally take as long as possible buying her entrance ticket so Dad could get in and take his photos without any other tourists in the frame.

 Mum and Dad married after Dad qualified as an Architect. Their honeymoon was walking the Pennine Way camping as they went in a very small tent provided by their university friends. How did Mum agree to that we have often asked ourselves particularly after a very boggy start sucked the sole off Mum’s boot and they had to divert to Glossop for repairs!

 After 7 years at Cambridge it was on to London and time to buy a house.  But even in the early 80’s London was expensive for a young architect and his wife. One day Dad was listening to the radio before work when Capital broadcast an advert from the GLC inviting Londoners to the Island Building to view and possibly buy some of their housing stock. There was no time to waste and Dad hopped on his bike. Somehow, he found himself looking at pictures of very dilapidated houses with the note that these could only be purchased by someone in the building industry. Dad recognised a terrace of 4 houses on the edge of the York Square Conservation area London E14. The houses had been due for demolition in order that the adjacent primary school playground could be enlarged. To prevent squatters, the roof tiles had been taken off and they were all semi derelict and going for a song …. the perfect house for the first time buyer. 

 The houses were awarded to a mix a trades people, craftsmen and one architect. As in any renovation there were a few hurdles to overcome and it was a project and a half - hacking off plaster, mixing concrete, doing much of it at the weekends. Dad loved a bit of carpentry but was more than happy to sub out the plumbing and electrics! Eventually he took on the renovation full time enabling them to move in in 1983.

 The early works included taking up the carpet on the stairs, under which they found a wodge of old £10 notes.  Dad took one note into the bank to see if they would change it for new currency and they would.  He returned the next day to change the other £90.  That bought a few curries as the Nazrul on Brick Lane. This would be the site of many celebrations, including those relating to Dad’s architectural practice.

 After joining RHWL in 1979, Dad spent the majority of his working life at the partnership.  By all accounts Dad was great fun to work with. Many of his colleagues have provided observations, that he inspired loyalty, was a great designer, encouraged others and helped many on their career path.  He embraced a challenge with characteristic energy, but most importantly, he loved a new project. There were projects from London to Edinburgh, Manchester to Qatar, Berlin to Moscow, some great buildings, some not so great… Dad’s own words apparently!

 Designing many Headquarters and some concert halls gave Dad the opportunity for solving complex problems with a pen and paper, but he also loved a hard hat and site boots when the project called for it. The buildings we would hear about most, usually whilst driving past, would be BP, British Airways, Guinness, Glaxo Smith Klein to name but a few. One America Square was in the list of Dad’s personal favourites.  Early in his career there was the excitement of working on the concert hall in Damascus and more recently the collaboration with Thomas Heatherwick for the UK Pavilion at the 2010 Shanghai Expo.

 As a family we remember with great affection, Dad’s long association with Fidelity with many of Fidelity’s finest projects being attributed to Dad and Melvin Wesley.

 Following the German reunification and sensing the opportunity for new projects, Dad began the task of finding work in Berlin. His friend and colleague Ferdi, a well-connected Swiss businessman, introduced Dad to the inner circles of the Berlin Politbureau. Eventually RHWL managed to win the prestigious competition for the HQ building of the publishing house, Axel Springer. In the early days of the project Dad and his colleagues used to sleep on Ferdi’s couch in his little apartment and according to office hearsay would share a meagre breakfast of stale bread and cigarettes! The success of the Axel Springer project laid the foundation for RHWL’s office in Berlin. The list of German buildings grew, culminating in the beautiful HQ building for Fidelity at Villa Mumm in the hills above Frankfurt. Dad and his colleagues received great acclaim …its Mum’s favourite building too!

 I understand that last week the Berlin team reunited in their favourite bar to commemorate the man they lovingly called the White Giant, Der weisse Riese, the man they admired for his wit, his great architectural talent and his roaring laugh.

 Later RHWL embarked on a joint venture in the Education City, Qatar. This project gave Dad and his team the idea of an office in Doha. Many of Dad’s colleagues swapped life in London for life in the Gulf and Dad was always keen to visit Doha and see the ever changing landscape. It has been said that without the vision ,energy and commitment that Dad and the team had for Qatar that the Doha adventure would never have happened.

 Dad was clearly very able to manage the construction of big buildings ..but it was his smallest building that caused the most trouble…many of you will know that we had an allotment in North Sheen.

 To facilitate the ‘grow it to drink it’ theme, Dad designed and built a much admired shed complete with see through roof and a covered seating area.  On completion of the shed, a fellow allotmenteer remarked on what a marvellous shed it was, to which dad responded, “well I am an architect”.  Not long after there was a strong gale one night and the next day Dad was greeted with the news that the shed had blown down. Surprised, he wondered what he would find, whether it would be smashed timber boarding, broken mugs or shattered glass. But the shed was completely intact,… just lying serenely on the ground the mugs were even on the shelves. Soon enough it was upright as though nothing had happened! A bit of concrete solved the problem!  It never blew down again.

 The allotment was the source of many family projects, and it was exciting to try the produce as mum and dad experimented with a multitude of ways to consume fruit and veg.  Seasonally the kitchen would be overrun with brewing equipment for the latest batch of sparkling wine, home brew beer, or the quaffable windfall cider.  The favourite has to be the quince coulis which was meant to have been a jelly. These projects punctuated the record dad kept of family life along with the locations of holidays which held a special place in our hearts. 

 For many of our school years Autumn half terms were spent camping in the Lake District. We found a beautiful if basic campsite near Outgate in the southern Lakes. Over the years we experienced all the weathers possible in the UK. But one particular week it poured every day. Too wet for a camp supper, we would be at the Outgate Inn every night waiting for the doors to open at 6 o’clock. That was the year when Dad finally said the words everyone was thinking – “lets have a cottage next year” which we did! There was skiing in Wegen which included more than one trip to the Schilthorn.  Every other summer it had to be Pollensa Majorca, walking distance from the old town’s Calvari steps and in the shadow of our favourite walk up Puig de Maria and one valley over from LLuc or as Dad used to call it L-Luc.  These were Dad’s favourite places to be with the family. Laterly, Dad enjoyed holidays with his brother Mike, walking in the Swiss alps and cycling alongside the rivers and canals of France, always trying to find a route with the wind behind them.

The themes of Dad’s life would continue into his retirement including his love of drawing and when thinking of a new project which would involve his favourite past times, University and College Prints was created.  Dad loved the trips to cathedral cities, weekends in Oxford or back to Cambridge with mum all to find the perfect view of the building to draw.  The collection of drawings grew from many Oxbridge colleges, to other special buildings including the Palm House at Kew, York Minster, Durham cathedral and Southampton.  The All England Club at Wimbledon and even some wedding venues made it into the portfolio. Dad was delighted to draw 2 views of St Michaels to help with the fundraising for the new Castle Community Rooms. Dad’s retirement drawing project actually began with drawing maps and so it was rather fun when a commission for maps came along thanks to our very good friend David Woolner for his book FDR the Last 100 Days.

 Dad was an avid reader but apart from the Master and Commander series it was history he enjoyed. Years of reading, not least while commuting on the District line gave him a great knowledge which he loved to share. He was writing a history book himself - The history of England as told through his favourite part of Norfolk the Taverham Hundred including Horsham St Faith!

 Dad loved Framlingham and had done so since visiting Mum when she was teaching in Leiston nearby. When they moved here it was novel to buy a brand new house. But even this provided one more building project…. an extension and not just any extension but one with a Doric column to match the one the family had at 31 Atwood Avenue in Kew all those years ago.

 Dad lived the last few years with great dignity and stoicism, taking the opportunity to draw and read  whenever he could.  While his retirement dreams of a place in the country, cycling along the Suffolk lanes, walks for a pub lunch, working at his drawing board, playing Bridge with close friends, family holidays in Mallorca and being GrandPete are not to be, we all have great stories and memories of a life well lived.  We must give thanks for all the good times.

 There you are, a few moments mentioned in an attempt to capture a lifetime.  Dad had too many stories for this to do him justice.

 So later today and in the days and weeks to come when there are stories to share, perhaps share one more, share your stories about Pete Shaw.

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