Segal’s self-build experiments of the 1980s revolutionised the UK’s approach to providing low-cost housing. But have these lessons since been forgotten?

When visitors arrive at my unconventional street, their first comment is usually: “This isn’t at all like London”. Nestled among trees on a hillside, the 13 half-timbered boxes are routinely mistaken for prefabs, an artists’ colony, Swiss chalets, eco-houses, a kibbutz, Scandinavian holiday cabins, Jamaican beach houses – or even a Japanese temple.

In fact, they are the product of an unusual 1980s self-build housing project designed by the pioneering architect Walter Segal, and run by the London Borough of Lewisham in south London.

The cul-de-sac is the result of a collaboration between enlightened councillors keen to shorten the housing waiting list, a group of determined locals and a visionary Berlin-born modernist architect. Walter Segal may not be a household name, but he was the only living architect to have two London streets named after him: Walters Way and Segal Close – names chosen by the residents.

Segal died 30 years ago, in October 1985, before Walters Way was finished. The street has welcomed visitors as part of London Open House weekend since 1989, but this year’s event, from 19–20 September, will be extra special, with a day of talks followed by three Segal/self-build streets being opened to the public on the Sunday: Walters Way, Segal Close and Greenstreet Hill. The Architecture Foundation has also made a new short film about our housing estate.



Segal was the only living architect to have two London streets named after him: Walters Way and Segal Close

Although there are only around 200 Segal buildings in the UK, he has a strong fan-base among architects and designers, especially those with an interest in community and sustainability. Enthusiasts include Grand Designs’ Kevin McCloud, whose self-build company HAB is partly Segal-inspired. Architecture columnist Tom Dyckhoff describes Segal as one of his three design heroes. Modern interpretations of the Segal ethos include the WikiHouse and projects of the Turner Prize nominated design collective Assemble.

Neighbours have grown used to a steady stream of architects, students, photographers and filmmakers who want to sample the Segal experience. We mostly welcome the attention, because we want to see more of this type of housing and hope those responsible – councillors, town planners and developers – take note and remember Segal when they are designing the cities of the future.

Walter Segal was born and educated in Berlin. He spent his childhood in Switzerland near an artists’ community, and his first commissioned building was a small wooden summerhouse there. In the 1930s, he lived in Mallorca where he studied and built houses in the local style. There are signs of Swiss, Mediterranean and German modernist influences in the Lewisham self-build houses. In 1962, while rebuilding his own house in Highgate, London, he created a temporary home in the garden for his family. The wood cabin cost £800 and took two weeks to build. Known as the Little House in the Garden, this temporary structure lasted over 50 years. Segal was surprised to find that the Little House got more attention than his permanent new home. Colleagues and clients were intrigued by this quick and economical way of building. The design – a wooden frame, insulation and weatherproof shell – was the prototype for what became known as the Segal self-build method.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Segal was impressed by the potential of people building their own houses. Photograph: James Drew Turner/The Guardian

The Little House was built by carpenters. The self-build element came later, when a client fell out with his builders. Jon Broome is an architect who worked with Segal and managed the Lewisham projects. He explains: “[The client] told Walter he had sacked the builders and was going to do it himself, and Walter was very impressed by the potential of people just building their own houses.”

What Segal did was design lightweight, simple, cheap buildings made mostly of timber. He removed the need for bricklaying and plastering, and reduced the foundations to simple concrete bases. As Broome describes: “Walter reinvented building from first principles and reduced it to its simplest terms which led to the post and beam frame. His idea was that you would use readily available, inexpensive materials and you would use them in their bought sizes.”

In the late 1970s, after much negotiation, self-building emerged as a way to help people into low-cost home ownership. Broome recalls how Segal had a natural affinity for the self-builders: “He was dead keen on people having input into how they were designed. He sat down with each household and figured out the plans with them.”

Dave Dayes and his partner Barbara Hicks were chosen to join the scheme in 1983. At the time, they were living in a small council flat and jumped at the chance to build their own home, despite their experience being limited to putting up shelves. Dayes remembers Segal reassuring him that “all you need to do is to be able to cut a straight line with a saw and drill a straight hole”. He admits: “It looked rubbish to start with, but by the time we’d done it for the umpteenth time, we were quite professional.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest In the late 1970s, self-building emerged as a way to help people into low-cost home ownership. Photograph: James Drew Turner/The Guardian

It took two years – fitting in construction work around day jobs and young children. Barbara Hicks remembers a community spirit developing quite early on: “There was a lot of peer-group support. If you needed more hands to lift something up, they’d come and help you. We’d be working on our individual homes, but when it was time to raise the main frame of the house, the whole group would stop what they were doing and come and help.”

At the end of the project, the builders had the chance to buy their homes and all eventually took up the offer. What was social housing is now privately owned. But despite newcomers like myself, the sense of community started by the self-builders has remained.

I hadn’t heard of Walter Segal before moving in nearly a decade ago. The house was cheaper than others in the area. The estate agent’s only comment was that they were “a bit different”.

What I saw when I first visited was: children playing outside in the street, neighbours discussing where to put solar panels and lots of trees. There seemed to be a combination of calmness and community spirit that is quite rare in a big city such as London. This was Walter’s intention. The shape of the street seems to encourage interaction. The tiny turning gently curves down a slope, with houses placed at different angles. The shape is especially noticeable at the street’s annual party, when guests congregate around a music stage placed at the bottom.

As it’s a private road, inhabitants are responsible for certain utilities such as street lighting and road maintenance. Residents regularly gather for Sunday morning street-cleaning sessions to brush away the leaves that fall from the numerous trees.

As the houses are lightweight and timber-framed, they don’t need foundations. Instead, the houses are built on stilts – meaning they can be much closer to trees. So, for example, our tiny garden has two London plane trees, and next door there is a Wellingtonia. The stilts also mean houses can be built on land unsuitable for conventional houses.

Segal believed that a house should adapt to its occupants, not the other way round. The construction method means the walls can be moved and the homes extended more easily than in most houses. Dave Dayes explains: “Walter Segal said that the house should be able to adapt to your changing needs. It did for us, because when we first started building we had two children. Just after we finished, a third one arrived and we had a fourth six years later. So we have extended the house in stages.”

Being adaptable, the homes are also a great canvas for eco-innovation. The Dayes family has added solar panels, a ground source heat pump and clad the house in fast-growing, durable Accoya wood. Other neighbours have added insulation and triple-glazed windows.

The Segal scheme has now inspired a new generation to create well-designed eco-friendly community housing. Kareem Dayes is the son of Dave Dayes and Barbara Hicks. He was inspired by his parents’ self-build experience to launch his own community self-build project. His project, Rural Urban Synthesis Society, is a community land trust. They are negotiating with Lewisham council to build low-cost homes on a nearby vacant site.



We hope those responsible remember Segal when they are designing the cities of the future

Facebook Twitter Pinterest “There seems to be a combination of calmness and community spirit that is quite rare in a big city such as London” … Resident Alice Grahame. Photograph: James Drew Turner/The Guardian

He explains: “The houses probably won’t have the Segal aesthetic, but they will have the ethos. Growing up in Walters Way – and knowing that my parents built our house – taught me that there is an alternative to buying on the open market, and that houses don’t need to be made from bricks and mortar. Even though most of the self-builders have gone, the spirit of collaboration lives on.”

No one has come up with a good explanation of why these designs never went mainstream – either as social housing or private developments.

It is not surprising that most of us who live in Segal houses want others to know about this remarkable architect’s contribution to city life. He brought a modernist European aesthetic with clean lines and big windows to London’s conservative housing mix. Segal made good architecture available at low cost and empowered ordinary Londoners to build their own homes, which, in turn, brought people together as a community.

Alice Grahame (@alicesangle) is a London-based freelance journalist focusing on the built environment and sustainability. Follow Guardian Cities on Twitter and Facebook and join the discussion