My good friend Wyndham Westerdale, who has died aged 66 from problems arising from lung most cancers, was an architect with a dedication to preserving and enhancing buildings of advantage, no matter their age or what objective they served.
Among the many initiatives he labored on have been the restore and conversion of Hogarth’s Home, the early 18th-century house of the artist William Hogarth, in Chiswick, west London; the dismantling and reconstruction of the outdated management tower at Hendon Aerodrome in Middlesex; and the preservation, adaptation and conversion of the Victorian-era Hertford Brewery in Hertford.
Wyndham was born in Nottingham to Royce Westerdale, a sailor within the Royal Navy, and his spouse, Lois (nee Freeman). After secondary education, he took a level usually architectural research on the College of Tub (1974-78). This was adopted by a yr of labor expertise on the John Osborne architectural partnership in Birmingham and research for a postgraduate diploma in structure at Portsmouth Polytechnic (1979-81).
There was additional research for a grasp’s diploma in conservation at Manchester College (1981-83) earlier than he lastly plunged into architectural work on the London Borough of Newham (1983-87), the Internal London Training Authority (1987-89) and at Crampin & Pring Architects (1989-98).
After that he joined Acanthus Architects, the place he grew to become an affiliate in 2002 and a principal in 2004. When Acanthus merged in 2019 with Scott Brownrigg, the place I’m a director, he took on the function of technical director.
In his spare time Wyndham was concerned with a lot of our bodies involved with architectural historical past and conservation, together with the Twentieth Century Society, the Georgian Group and the Vernacular Structure Group.
He was a eager collector of books, a photographer of web sites and buildings of architectural curiosity, a connoisseur of gin and a lover of ice-cream, particularly when served with a Cointreau sauce.
Wyndham had grand plans for his retirement however they have been to not be. He did, nonetheless, handle a last journey to the Hebridean island of Iona and a go to to Fingal’s Cave, on close by Staffa, rucksack overladen with reference books and digital camera gear, yomping steadfastly to his locations. Although nice enjoyable, he was, in some ways, a personal and solitary man.