Capturing London’s Pubs: The Artistic Journey of Lydia Wood
On a recent Wednesday morning at 10:30 a.m., artist Lydia Wood set up her easel next to a dumpster in southeast London, ready to bring her vision to life. Slathering sunscreen on her neck, she focused on her subject: The Lord Clyde, a historic pub in Southwark, built in 1913, located just south of the River Thames. For the next hour, she diligently sketched, her gaze darting between the pub’s tall, tiled facade and her drawing pad.
“Oh wow, that’s so good!” exclaimed Emily Finch, a passer-by on her lunch break.
“Thank you,” Lydia replied with a smile. “I’ve got a long way to go.”
Indeed, Lydia, 31, is on an ambitious mission to illustrate every pub in London—a feat that has already seen her complete around 300 drawings, with approximately 2,500 left to go, according to research from CGA by NIQ.
Her project has garnered thousands of social media followers and shines a light on the challenges facing London’s pubs today, including rising rents, noise complaints, and the increasing trend of sobriety. “The Clyde has become one of my go-to spots,” said Finch, reflecting on the closure of many of her local favorites.
Lydia’s artistic endeavor raises questions: Is it a tribute, an archive, or perhaps a requiem for the city’s beloved pubs? “What will be painful is seeing how many have closed by the time she finishes,” noted Alistair von Lion, a pub historian and tour guide who runs the London Pub Explorer website.
Pubs in Britain trace their roots back to the wine bars introduced by Romans nearly 2,000 years ago. These roadside inns evolved into taverns, primarily serving British ales. Over the centuries, the neighborhood pub has become a cornerstone of community life—hosting everything from first dates to post-work chats, serving as a living room for friends and a refuge for those seeking companionship.
Lydia, a self-proclaimed “pub person,” chooses her subjects spontaneously, exploring the city based on instinct. “Even the less attractive pubs hold value,” she mused. “To someone, a flat-roofed pub on the fringes of London might be the most significant place in the world.”
Having drawn since childhood and studied art at Goldsmiths, Lydia views her project as a lifelong documentation rather than a series of standalone sketches. On average, she aims to complete two to three drawings weekly, weather permitting. “I’m at the start of what I consider a 30-year project,” she shared, carefully shading a brick wall.
Before the pandemic, Lydia taught art, but when classes ceased, she turned to sketching pubs for extra income. In 2020, she began selling her drawings on social media for £40 each (approximately $55), which quickly escalated into a full-time career. Today, she charges around £380 for original A4-sized artworks, while prints are priced under £50. Additionally, she offers pub-themed calendars, marketed as a year-long pub crawl.
Though she occasionally accepts commissions, most of her originals sell quickly due to the unique allure of each pub and its regular patrons. “I want to level the playing field,” she explained. While many London pubs face significant challenges, she is particularly concerned about the lesser-known establishments that often go unnoticed.
According to CGA by NIQ, London’s pub count has dwindled from over 3,000 to about 2,800 since the pandemic. Lockdowns shifted social habits, leading many to stay home, order in, and engage with their devices rather than visit local pubs. Independent pubs, already burdened by escalating rents and competition from larger chains, have been hit especially hard. “The economics are the primary issue,” said Michael Kill, CEO of the Night Time Industries Association. “As the price of a pint rises, people either drink less or turn to supermarket beer, often feeling lonelier in the process.”
As Lydia sketched outside The Lord Clyde, a small crowd gathered to watch her work. Adam Colebrooke-Taylor, 60, a former firefighter, shared how the pub has been a beloved gathering spot for generations of firefighters from a nearby training center. “It’s part of London Fire Brigade folklore,” he said, resonating with the sense of community that pubs foster.
“I never thought I’d see her drawing one in real life,” remarked Iona Davidson, 22, who recognized Lydia by her signature red stool, a staple of her videos.
Lydia’s recognition has surged in recent months, culminating in an exhibition of her drawings and a flurry of interest from publishers eager to collaborate on her book proposal. Fans frequently offer suggestions for future drawings, including one enthusiastic admirer who urged her to capture The Lord Clyde.
“I think I actually recommended that you draw this,” said Daniel Wright, a fan who spotted her while heading to lunch.
“Did you?” Lydia replied, her face lighting up. “Thank you so much!”
For Mr. Wright, The Lord Clyde embodies the quintessential London pub, complete with a lively patio and excellent craft beer selection. However, he shares Lydia’s concerns about rising living costs pushing people away from such communal spaces. “This project is an archive of places that hold immense importance,” he reflected. “All the meaningful conversations happen in pubs—they are landmarks in our memories.”
As Lydia continued her work, she raced against the growing crowd of happy drinkers, eager to capture the unique details of The Lord Clyde before they obscured her view. By 6 p.m., her hand began to cramp, and the pub buzzed with life. With deft strokes, she added finishing touches, even sketching a pigeon that landed nearby.
Satisfied with her work, she stepped back and exclaimed, “I’m happy with it,” before treating herself to a well-deserved pint.
Conclusion
Lydia Wood’s artistic journey reflects not just a personal passion but also a broader narrative of community and the evolving landscape of London’s pubs. As she continues her quest to document these iconic establishments, she reminds us of the vital role they play in our lives and the importance of preserving their legacy for future generations.
