Lea Bridge Library, Waltham Forest, by Studio Weave – ADC

“You used to have to wear thick shoes here,” says Je Ahn, pointing at the ground. “It used to be full of needles and nasty objects – it wasn’t so safe.” The ground he is pointing at is the ‘garden’ of Lea Bridge Library, where Ahn’s practice, Studio Weave, has added a new building for the library to extend into. Today, on a mild autumn day, the garden is filled with brown leaves, excitable children, and teenagers – who are less keen to run about.

This small but ambitious project is the result of a coordinated effort between the Waltham Forest council and the Greater London Authority (GLA) who part-funded the scheme through its Good Growth Fund, intended to “empower people, make better places, and to grow local prosperity.”

The council applied for funding in 2017, with what the GLA, speaking to AT, described as a “clear vision for [the] Lea Bridge Library as a key piece of civic and community infrastructure, in an area home to a very diverse range of ethnicities and faiths.”

Invited to a competition, Studio Weave set out to achieve this, responding to a brief that called for the refurbishment and extension of the existing Grade II Listed building to create a series of spaces that could be used for a range of cultural, recreational and community activities. (Read how the practice responded to the brief in-depth and considered the role of the contemporary library in Eddie Blake’s exclusive op-ed for AT here).

The resultant scheme is simple: a single storey addition, the building takes the form of a finger that extends from the original Edwardian library building, tracing the western perimeter, southwards. Inside is filled with timber: cantilevered beams of high strength laminated veneer lumber (LVL) support a length of overhead glazing and floating ceiling of timber battens. The extension feels more like a pavilion and is an open, fluid space, filled with tables and chairs, desks and a café at the threshold where the extension meets an earlier extension to the library (carried out in the early 2000s).

The plan is punctuated by an indent that takes the shape of a semi-circle to accommodate a neighbouring mature Common Lime tree, with this indent occurring around halfway along the pavilion. This juncture is used as a threshold, with the floor being raised here to give the tree’s roots room and also due to a concrete WWII shelter that was discovered below.

Here, a large, timber, pivoting door can fully demarcate the separate areas, sweeping out from the west wall and distinguishing the south space from the café and general library area so it can be used for private events.

“Some things are a simple design move, but they have a big impact,” said Ahn showing AT around, also noting how the café kitchen and serving area has been positioned so staff can have a clear view through either axis of the library. “The idea was to provide flexibility, so the occupiers aren’t jeopardised by the functionality of the building.”

Along the western edge, a generous slither of glazing spans the length of the new pavilion, allowing morning light to fill the space, while on the eastern side, floor-to-ceiling windows and glazed sliding doors have been installed to open views up into the park and let more light in (albeit diffuse from tree foliage). Beyond the glazing and almost as part of the treescape is the pavilion’s structure — a concrete colonnade dyed red to riff on the original building’s bricks, and through the columns of which water is fed from the roof to irrigate the land below.

“I imagined at the beginning that it was like a fancier orangery, described Ahn. “When you go into Victorian or Edwardian buildings, they have a garden wall and a form of cloister. I thought about that sequence, as if it was a colonnade that had been filled in.”

The project is only a few months old, but already it’s evidently a success, being used by a wide variety of people for a wide variety of activities. By 10am, just an hour after opening its doors on a weekday, the space is filled with the hubbub of toddlers and parents, all sprawled across the floor. After that, a welcome lull – adults looking to study or work occupy the area.

“I had been speaking to everyone around here about where they work and their workspaces, particularly through the pandemic,” Ahn told AT. “There’s a deprivation of green spaces here, and people’s homes aren’t always so well suited for working in.”

As a result, the extension caters towards individual and group work. Furniture by Sebastian Cox includes armchairs with flat, wide armrests apt for placing a laptop on and working without the need for a desk (as this author can attest).

Come 3pm, the space livens up once again as children fresh from school with their parents filter in. The ‘library’ is now a welcome space for those looking for after school activities. At 3.30pm, a LEGO aeroplane carried by a boy ‘flies’ past me — “LEGO club” has started, I’m told.

As well as children, the extension is a chance for parents to socialise too. Among the mini coats and rucksacks temporarily abandoned, a group of mothers, originally from Spain say how they come here to socialise with each other as much as the kids do.

By 4pm, the age group inside has shifted a notch. The school kids have made way for the college kids; two teens turn their armchairs to face the garden, known as the “Friendship Garden” while they study.

5pm and light is fading, and another lull descends. An hour later a meditation session begins, and a slightly older generation enter, armed with yoga mats and water. The partition door swings close, cordoning off the café so maximum tranquillity can be achieved.

It’s rare to see a space like this be used by so many for so much. According to Ahn, the end area to the south (where meditation takes place) can also be used for a wedding reception, among other things. Usually, such varied activities can only take place in public outdoor forums, like squares or parks, not a library — something which is testament to how Studio Weave has let the extension be as open as possible, and credit also to Waltham Forest who are keen to programme the space as such.

This is just the first phase of a wider project to enrich the area. Phase two, says Ahn, will involve developing the Friendship Garden to be more than just a grassy area, instead being rewilded with “durable” plants. “The grass looks ok now, but half of the year it’s dead and muddy, thanks to shade and poor soil,” said Ahn. “Hopefully soon it will be more lush, like an English manor house.”