Centre Point “London’s most notorious empty tower”

Wandering through London’s streets, alleyways, squares and assorted oddities, I recently fell into the hands of Simon Jenkins’ A Short History of London. The book performed a small miracle: it gave emotional structure to my otherwise aimless walks, imposed a faint sense of order on my chaotic thoughts, and—most importantly—kept me amused.

I therefore hold Jenkins, esteemed columnist (whom I don’t know) and professional stirrer of curiosity, largely responsible for what follows. His writing nudged me—quite forcefully—towards the history of architecture, construction and property speculation: disciplines that, as an engineer, I am legally obliged to find fascinating. Armed with nothing but enthusiasm and an unhealthy interest in concrete, I shall attempt to deliver a mixture of entertainment, gossip and uncomfortable truths to the unsuspecting pedestrian of London.

We begin with a building that has long demanded attention through sheer audacity rather than charm. Centre Point Tower, looming over Tottenham Court Road, manages to look both brutally simple and quietly menacing. Jenkins is, once again, entirely to blame for my curiosity and for this inaugural excursion into London’s more questionable architectural triumphs.

Completed in 1966, Centre Point is best remembered not for being useful, but for being empty—famously dubbed “London’s most notorious vacant tower.” It was the pet project of developer Harry Hyams, who, with the help of architect Richard Seifert, sought to leave a permanent scar—sorry, mark—on the London skyline.

A Brutalist monolith of concrete, the tower remained unoccupied largely because Hyams insisted on renting it to a single tenant. This would, in theory, save management costs while allowing him to command his preferred rent. In practice, it produced a public scandal. Planning approval for one of London’s tallest buildings raised eyebrows, while Hyams patiently waited for values to rise, speculating on an empty building as editorials raged and protesters gathered below.

Structurally, however, the building is undeniably elegant: bold Y-shaped mullions, clean concrete expression, and daring cantilevered floors. Decades later, having failed as offices, Centre Point was finally reinvented as luxury apartments—its structure reworked by Ove Arup & Partners, adapting the original engineering by Pell Frischmann for a far more profitable afterlife.