Obituary.

PHILIP POWELL 1921-2003

'Not all geniuses were as likeable as Philip.'

Philip Powell, who died on 5 May, was one of the masters of British postwar Modernism; as an architect of unrivalled popularity, together with his lifelong partner Jacko Moya, he brought refinement to Modernism where others imposed Brutalism. Within a prolific partnership that spanned more than 45 years, Powell & Moya produced work that was not only socially charged--setting new standards in housing, healthcare and education--but which also led a generation by producing inspirational icons such as the Skylon and their British Pavilion at the Osaka Expo in 1970.

Having completed buildings throughout Oxford and Cambridge during the late '60s and early '70s, the quality of their work was duly recognized with the first partnership award of the RIBA Gold Medal in 1974; followed more recently when their very first commission--Churchill Gardens in Pimlico, London--received the Civic Trust's 40th Anniversary Award in 2000 for the most outstanding of all winning schemes.

He was a part of a highly motivated and optimistic generation of British architects for whom innovation and regeneration were key concerns. Attitudes that remained with him throughout his career right through to his more recent personal contribution to the Festival of Britain's 50th anniversary celebrations in 2001.

In this extract from his recent tribute speech, Leonard Manasseh speaks personally and fondly of one of Britain's most respected postwar architects, Philip Powell (15 March 1921 - 5 May 2003).

'Not all geniuses were as likeable as Philip. Philip was one of the cleverest people I have come across in my life--clever in every way and profoundly knowledgeable: a latter-day Renaissance man. (But the Renaissance does not come to mind as being particularly funny, though the Borgias were a bit bizarre.) Philip on the other hand had a wonderful, hilarious and irreverent sense of humour.

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'As an architect and admiring observer I will touch briefly on Philip's architectural partnership with Hidalgo Moya. Theirs was an amazing practice: I shall not dwell on their work, which is known to most of us; the wonderful hospitals, for instance, like the great landmark looming in the landscape near Swindon.

'I can't remember precisely when I first met Philip; it could have been at the AA, before or during the Second World War, when the Architectural Association was evacuated to Mount House on Hadley Common between Barnet and Potters Bar. What I do know is that Philip and Jacko Moya were involved in the Festival of Britain as was I. Comparisons, I know, are odious, but while I was designing the '51 BAR and the upstream Loos, they were designing miracles like the Skylon. Philip generously ascribes it mostly to Jacko but knowing them both it could only have been a joint effort.

'Felix Samuely, the famous engineer working with them, is reported to have said about the Skylon that all he had to do was to check their calculations. Knowing Philip and Jacko and Samuely that rings true to me: it would have been an achievement for a brilliant engineer, let alone a couple of young architects. It was, quite simply, genius.

'I shall never forget the Skylon. It was brilliant and beautiful but, like so many beautiful things, destroyed by political rivalry. The Festival of Britain was a Labour concept and when the Conservatives won the next election, they destroyed or removed everything except the Festival Hall. The beautiful, wonderful Skylon which truly should have been kept was removed. The London Eye near Country Hall is wonderful but Philip and Jacko's Skylon would have looked magical. My Loos would have been useful too.

'As an RA [Royal Academician], at general assemblies and as treasurer, whenever he spoke it was precise, often very funny and always pungently to the point. Philip was kind and courteous, and like many great men, absurdly modest. Like some, not all, he tried ceaselessly--but fruitlessly I am happy to say--to conceal his own brilliance.

'I am not related to Philip's family in any way. You can almost hear Philippa, Dido and Ben whispering, 'thank goodness for that', echoed by Philip wherever he is. But I am privileged and proud to have known Philip and to have been, I hope, a friend. This is an inadequate tribute to a remarkable man. The broadsheets, I know, have ranged widely and in detail over his achievements, but none I think has touched on his Humanity. I wish his fine family well--Philippa, Dido, Ben, the grandchildren and others that I may not know. As for Philip, I can say--with all my heart--that I shall miss him.'