London’s answer to New York’s High Line? You must be joking
A tree-scattered, elevated walkway through air vents, The Tide is a textbook piece of artwash and greenwash – more pointless whimsy amid the tortured cityscape of Greenwich Peninsula
Almost 20 years since the unveiling of the Millennium Dome, which promised to transform the post-industrial wastes of the Greenwich Peninsula, the area has become a junkyard of half-baked ideas and botched plans. Emerging from the tube station, you are confronted with a cacophony of competing structures: the tilting concrete struts supporting a glass canopy swerve drunkenly towards a wall of fat towers clad in a chequerboard of bronze, champagne and metallic dog-turd brown.
To the right looms a bulbous sales-suite-cum-gallery, to the left the jazzy shed of Ravensbourne College, while all around lie assorted oddments of public art and curated happenings, from a huge, twisted steel spire to a surreal dinner party in the sky – a table suspended from a crane where you can eat dinner, strapped to a seat, for £200. Completing the panorama of pointless whimsy, the pylons of Boris Johnson’s costly cable car stretch across the Thames in the distance.