Ann Dingli reports from London, where architect Richard England was granted Freedom of the City of London in a ceremony at the Guildhall.

Last week, the architect, poet, educator and artist Richard England was granted Freedom of the City of London in a ceremony celebrated by the Clerk of the Chamberlain’s Court, Laura Miller.

England’s Freedom ceremony on July 11, as with all in the tradition, was held in the Chamberlain’s Court at Guildhall. He joins the likes of Winston Churchill, Nelson Mandela, Stephen Hawking and Florence Nightingale.

In his own professional camp, British architects Norman Foster and the late Richard Rogers have also been inducted as Freeman.

The Freedom of the City of London defines itself as “one of the oldest surviving traditional ceremonies still in existence today, […] believed to have been first presented in 1237”, though its practical meaning has changed over its nearly 800 years of existence.

At its inception, Freedom to the City meant protection to national citizens by the charter of the City of London, releasing them from the jurisdiction of feudal lords.

As time progressed to the Middle Ages, Freedom became defined by a right to trade, and was (and remains) closely associated with membership of the Livery Companies. These are tantamount to medieval guilds, which were formed to protect and support craftsmen and merchants of the day, primarily promoting their economic interests.

In the UK, one of the earliest charters – the Weavers’ Company – is still in existence and has been since 1155.

From 1996 onwards, the Freedom of the City was extended beyond British and Commonwealth citizens to include people from all over the world, admitted either through nomination or by being presented by their own livery.

Admission grants the title of ‘Freeman’ of the City, carrying with it a catalogue of both rules and privileges – many of the latter now purely ceremonial, yet representative of what humanity still holds sacrosanct to an emancipated life. The right and ability to work is central to this, and when stripping away its associated ritual and privilege, the Freedom is principally a recognition of the significance of labour.  

‘Let the end you aim at always be good,’ the rulebook says

Despite the aura of its recipients and modern-day prestige, the bestowal of the Freedom of the City has and continues to centre strongly on decorum and professional temperament. Aside from the ‘Copy of the Freedom’, which is scripted on sheepskin parchment (another tradition that has not wavered over eight centuries), Freemen also receive a bound book of rules during their access ceremony. Known as the ‘Rules for the Conduct of Life’, this pocket-sized book of directives dates to the mid-18th century.

Its contents are less regulatory than they are didactic, providing broad-ended instruction as to how to go about life’s work with integrity. In essence, they outline the notion that with the right and privilege of labour comes both practical and moral responsibility.

“Let the end you aim at always be good,” the rulebook says, advising holders to be “vigorous in making use of the proper means for the compassing of such an end”.

From his earliest buildings, England can be described as a visual and spatial researcher into the soul of place.

His architecture has always been paired with his personal theses on the importance of a regionalist production of work – one which he has championed over many decades, and which earned him the description by architectural critic Edwin Heathcote in his 2002 monograph as having become “closely identified with the notion of critical regionalism in architecture and with the development of what Charles Knevitt has referred to as ‘cultural identity’”.

In a lecture from his earlier decades in practice, England once described Malta as “an island where the fields are rock and the hedges are stone. This is a place which has always practised, because of the one sole building material available, a maximum utilisation of minimal resources.”

This description, as it relates to the architectural profession today, has become all but unrecognisable. England’s creation of a limestone regionalist canon feels alien to the current production of buildings on the islands – which for the most part run counter to that “vigour” recommended in “making use of the proper means” to achieve what is needed by our hands, for our world.

England’s accession into the Freedom of the City of London, which was swiftly followed by a gowning ceremony as Honorary Liveryman of The Worshipful Company of Chartered Architects the next day, is therefore not only a moment of pride for the architect and his family, but a reminder of the sense of obligation and duty of care that is tied with good work.

This project is supported by Arts Council Malta.