Mike Jamieson

When I was at university in the late 1980s, the high-tech influence was really strong. But then in my year out I went to work for Andrew Merrylees Associates in Edinburgh.

Andrew was a former partner of Basil Spence, so I began to explore the work of Spence and his contemporaries in a bit more detail. That put me on a different trajectory. One building that I visited then, and have been back to many times since, is Frederick Gibberd’s Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral. It’s a unique space in the city – radically modernist in character but with a peace and calm to it.

This is partly down to the purity of the structure: a circular plan allows everyone to see the altar, while above, boomerang-like trusses are held together by two vast ring beams, all exposed internally. The trusses are attached to 16 flying buttresses, which rise up the cone-like exterior to the crown- like lantern – an iconic presence on the skyline. Concrete is also used quite unusually to frame the 3cm- thick stained glass, designed by John Piper. The interplay between glass and concrete, modern artworks, iconography and structure, make it a unique space in the city.

Train sheds are sometimes referred to as the cathedrals of the industrial age, but it’s not what you usually think of when you think of Charles Holden’s stations on the London Underground. These buildings, built in the 1930s and 40s, were a crucial part of the all-encompassing identity that Frank Pick developed for the network, from the iconic map to the design of the trains. The ticket halls were usually brick boxes – square like east Finchley, circular like Arnos Grove, or even octagonal like Bounds Green. Cockfosters, though, breaks from that mould.

Opened in 1933, it’s a classic railway shed but on a smaller scale. Instead of a steel roof on brick pillars, it is a symphony of pale exposed concrete. The central section is double-height with clerestorey windows and flanked by aisles lit by glass block skylights. Angular portal frames repeat in pairs all the way along the structure, with wooden benches tucked into the narrow bays. The entrance lacks any real street presence, but as you move down to the platform it’s really quite atmospheric. It almost feels like it’s wrong to make too much noise.

My last choice is a recent building, but one I just really enjoyed. Stanton Williams’ UCL Marshgate is playing a leading role in reshaping higher education, mixing collaborative “vertical neighbourhoods” with public areas where anyone can have a coffee. The quality of the detailing is first rate, both internally and externally. The boardmarked concrete is so crisp, and the way that shadows rake across it from the atrium above is really lovely.

Mike Jamieson is design director of TateHindle

Photos Ian G Dagnall / Alamy Stock Photo