Feb 27

Feb 27 Brighton Pavillion - as magnificent inside as it's bonkers outside

I wouldn’t say I’m a regular visitor to Brighton, but I’ve certainly been many times over the years. Which makes me even more ashamed to admit that on every one of those many visits I had thoroughly enjoyed seeing the fantastically fanciful exterior of the iconic Brighton Pavillion without ever once feeling any inclination to look inside. Shame on me. Especially since, having finally ventured through the visitors entrance, I’ve realised it’s even more fanciful and fantastic on the inside.

I also have to confess that I hadn’t properly clocked quite how big this marvellously eccentric building is, with its multitude of domes and minarets looking, for all the world, like a Disney imagining of a palace Princess Jasmin from Aladdin might live in. Having wandered, open-mouthed, round the beautifully restored, riotously opulent interior, let me tell you - it’s huge.

A quick romp through the history of The Royal Pavilion at Brighton before we get to those jaw-dropping interiors. In the middle years of the eighteenth century Brighton became a fashionable resort, partly due to the belief that the sea water had therapeutic qualities. Hence why then Prince Regent, later King George IV, visited after an attack of gout. A larger than life character, given to excesses of drinking, eating, gambling and what might politely be called ‘carrying-on’, George decided to buy a residence there in 1786.

King George IV in the coronation robes he designed himself

He acquired a seaside lodging house and the surrounding land and set about turning it into a royal residence with the help of the architect Henry Holland. George later employed theatre designer and architect John Nash to enhance the Pavillion, transforming the exterior with the addition of the flamboyant Indian-inspired details we know it for today.

In the 15 years following George’s death in 1830, Brighton Pavilion was used by both William IV and Queen Victoria, but, perhaps unsurprisingly, the latter wasn’t keen on the building’s ornate design, and in 1846 she sold the property to the Corporation of Brighton, making it the only royal palace that isn’t owned by the state or the crown.

The Pavillion was turned into a military hospital during the First World War, initially for injured troops from the Indian Army then later as a military hospital for limbless British soldiers. During WW2 it served as an air raid shelter and venue for public events supporting the war effort.

Brighton Pavillion served as a military hospital during World War One

Since taking ownership, the Corporation has been responsible for a rolling programme of ambitious and meticulous restoration which continues to this day and which means that the over one million visitors who tour the Pavillion every year are treated the full, and full-on, impact of George’s untempered enthusiasm for Asian and Oriental art and design.

The lavish Banqueting Room in Brighton Pavillion

Nowhere is this more in evidence than in the astonishingly lavish Banqueting Room, dominated by quite the most remarkable - and bonkers - chandelier you’re ever likely to see. Suspended from the huge leaves of a plantain tree, a gilded dragon clasps the wildly ornate, one ton, 30 feet tall light in its multi-jointed claws.

Close up of the chandelier in the Banqueting Room at Brighton Pavillion

And it’s not as if the chandelier is the only over-the-top design detail in this vast room. There’s so much else to feast your eyes on (banqueting - feast, get it?), including walls covered in painted scenes of Chinese domestic life, a multitude of other hanging and floor lights, variously supported by, and decorated with, 180 gilded serpents and dragons, a domed ceiling decorated with 26,000 plaster cockleshells covered in 18-carat gold, all presided over by an enormous table groaning in Oriental inspired tablewear, china and glass.

The similarly sized Music Room is every bit as magnificent, if marginally less showy. The main features in this room, where George entertained his guests with concerts and, sometimes, performances by himself, are the enormous red and gold wall canvasses and bamboo canopies which separate them from another ornately decorated ceiling (which also looks domed, but actually isn’t, it’s an optical illusion created by the clever designer Frederick Crace.) Plenty more dragons and serpents here too.

More dragons and serpents in the Music Room

To reach the Music Room you pass through a perfectly circular ante-room which could be considered somewhat understated by the standards of the other entertaining spaces (so not all that understated then), if it wasn’t for its dazzling sunflower design carpet.

Sunflower design carpet in Brighton Pavillion

George’s personal apartments were moved to the ground floor as he became increasingly stout and plagued by gout, making it difficult to climb the stairs. Decorated with more restraint than the public rooms it seems even the ebullient king needed somewhere more subdued to relax.

The bed in King George’s private apartment

The other space visitors can see on the ground floor is the vast kitchen, the most up to date and best designed of its day (even this room didn’t escape George’s oriental obsession. Each of the four pillars are topped with palm tree leaves). George was very proud that the room was entirely steam heated and he often employed notable chefs for grand dinners when the kitchens would be expected to prepare over 100 different dishes.

Up the Chinoise-inspired staircase you get a taste of what staying in the Royal Pavillion would have been like for George’s guests, with richly decorated bedrooms, each reflecting the King’s abiding love of all things Oriental, and all leading on to a lobby which served as a breakfast area.

Chinese-inspired staircase and bedroom in Brighton Pavillion

Heading for the exit you can’t help but reflect on how George’s hedonistic nature, enthusiasm for innovation and firmly maintained disregard for convention is still reflected in the character of the city for which his idiosyncratic building has become an iconoclastic symbol.