I am tempted to revel in the open spaces in and around the Tate Modern but walk by the Hayward shaking my head
Architecture and the City of London have consumed much of my adult working life. The River Thames was long the artery that sustained life in this great city and today it is a barometer of our cultural life. It is fitting, then, that two buildings on the Thames rate as my best and worst.

For some years, Waterloo was my work base and every day, I would pass the Hayward Gallery. Although relatively modern, the Hayward for me negates all the best aspirations of modern public architecture; it is faceless, inward-looking and ignores the river. It is barren and uninviting. And the addition of neon, wind-controlled artwork and a deconstructed "lean-to" fail to make it, or the confused public space around it, loveable.

This is in contrast to Tate Modern, which I was lucky enough to have been involved with during its construction. Tate Modern is contextual and historical and, at the same time, progressively modern. It creates a new context for Southwark. Its public spaces are inviting and celebrate the river. It plays an important part in how we see London today and it points the way to how we ought to treat public spaces in the city. The backdrop of this handsomely reconfigured landmark strengthens the additional artwork in its public spaces. The Tate Modern will prove increasingly popular and, unlike the Hayward Gallery, I can never just walk by.