Painting The Crooked House Britain's Wonkiest Pub in My Landmark Series
Some buildings are famous because they are grand. Others become loved because they are odd, stubborn, warm, and full of stories. The Crooked House belonged firmly in the second group.
This latest painting in my famous landmark and iconic pubs series is a tribute to one of the most recognisable pubs in England. I have always liked painting characterful historic pubs. They sit at the centre of communities, hold decades of memories, and often mean far more to people than their bricks and timber suggest.
The Crooked House, near Himley in South Staffordshire, had all of that, plus one unforgettable feature. It leaned. It twisted. It looked as if it should not quite be standing, yet it stood for generations and became known as Britain’s wonkiest pub.
That made it a fascinating subject to paint, and a poignant one too.
Why historic pubs make such rewarding subjects to paint
A good pub is never just a building. It is a place people attach stories to.
People remember first dates, family meals, Sunday afternoons, darts teams, wedding drinks, music nights, work gatherings, and quiet winter evenings by the fire. In summer, the garden or outdoor space becomes the draw. People spill outside, sit under umbrellas, and enjoy the long evenings.
For me, though, pubs really come into their own in autumn and winter. That is when the low light, dark timbers, glowing windows, and real fires give them their strongest character. There is a warmth to them that suits painting beautifully. The best ones have a cosy, comforting feel before you have even stepped through the door.
That feeling is what I try to capture in this series. I am not only painting a frontage or a recognisable landmark. I am trying to preserve the mood of the place.
Stadiums, another subject I often paint, bring a very different challenge. They are full of geometry. Stands, rooflines, floodlights, seating tiers, railings, and modern structures often mean a lot of careful straight lines. They demand accuracy and patience.
A pub like The Crooked House is almost the opposite. There are very few true straight lines to worry about. Walls bow, roofs dip, windows sit at strange angles, and the whole building seems to shift under your eye. That does not make it easy, but it makes it freeing. It is surprising how much more progress I can make in a day when the subject invites looseness and character rather than ruler-straight precision.
The history behind The Crooked House, Britain’s wonkiest pub
The Crooked House began life as an 18th-century millhouse before it became a pub in the 1830s. Located in Himley, in England’s Black Country, it eventually became one of the best-known public houses in the region.
Its famous lean came from 19th-century mining subsidence. Mining changed the ground beneath the building and caused one side to sit around 4 feet, or 1.2 metres, lower than the other.
One side of The Crooked House was approximately 4 feet lower than the other, giving the building its famous sloping appearance.
That distortion gave the pub its name and its appeal. It was not only the outside that looked strange. Inside, the building created optical illusions that made objects appear to roll uphill. For generations, visitors came not just for a drink, but to experience the disorientating charm of the place.
The crooked house pub became a landmark because it had something no modern themed venue could truly copy. Its wonkiness was real. It came from the history of the land, the industry of the area, and the long life of the building itself.
That is exactly the kind of subject I enjoy painting. A building like this carries local identity in its walls.
The challenge of painting a building that refuses to sit straight
Painting The Crooked House asks for a slightly different mindset. With many landmark buildings, the job is to make sure everything lines up. With this one, everything looks wrong if it lines up too neatly.
The temptation is to correct the building as you paint. Your eye naturally wants to straighten windows, level the roof, square up the chimney, and make the walls behave. But the whole point of The Crooked House is that it does not behave.
That means I have to trust the wonkiness. The angles need to feel convincing, not tidy. The walls must lean without looking careless. The windows need to sit awkwardly, but still belong to the building. The roofline has to sag and tip in a way that feels historic rather than cartoonish.
There is a balance to find. Push it too far and it becomes a caricature. Make it too neat and the character disappears.
The textures are just as important. Old brickwork, dark beams, weathered roof tiles, uneven paths, thick shadows, and warm window light all help bring the scene together. The pub’s shape may be the first thing people notice, but its atmosphere is what gives the painting life.
I also enjoy the contrast between the structural oddness and the welcoming nature of the place. A building can look crooked and still feel solid in memory. It can look fragile and still feel rooted in a community. That tension makes it a strong subject.
Why this painting of The Crooked House pub feels different after what happened in 2023
This painting could never be just another pub portrait, because the story of The Crooked House changed dramatically in 2023.
In July 2023, the pub closed and was sold. The following month, the building was gutted by fire. Soon after, it was demolished by the new owners, despite South Staffordshire Council instructing that the building should not be demolished.
The loss shocked many people. It was not only a local pub that disappeared. A rare and much-loved landmark was gone.
Criminal charges of arson with intent to endanger life have been brought against multiple people. The landowner has also been issued with an enforcement notice requiring the building to be reconstructed. An appeal has been lodged against that order, and an offer to relocate the pub has been opposed by campaigners.
Because legal proceedings and planning matters can take time, the future still feels unsettled. What is clear is that many people do not want the story to end with rubble and silence.
That is one reason this painting matters to me. Art cannot replace the original building. A print on a wall cannot recreate generations of conversations, laughter, local history, and lived experience. But it can help keep the image of the place alive.
It can also record what people cared about.
Rebuilding would not be the same, but it would still matter
If The Crooked House is reconstructed, it will not be the original. That cannot be avoided. The old fabric, the age, the wear, and the physical continuity of the place have gone.
But rebuilding would still be far better than losing it completely.
Historic buildings are not only valuable because every brick is original. They are valuable because of what they represent, where they stand, and how people use and remember them. A faithful reconstruction would not turn back time, but it could restore a landmark to the Black Country and give the community something back.
It would also send an important message. Buildings like this should not be treated as disposable. When a place has cultural and local value, its loss should carry consequences. If the building can be reconstructed, even imperfectly, it would show that public memory still has weight.
The campaigners opposing relocation seem to understand that point. Location matters. A pub is not simply an object that can be picked up and placed elsewhere. The Crooked House belonged to its site, its landscape, and its mining story. Move it too far from that context and something essential is lost.
I hope things turn out as well as my painting. That may be a hopeful way to put it, but hope is needed here. The alternative is accepting that a much-loved landmark can vanish and that nothing meaningful follows.
Where this piece sits in my landmark and pub series
This painting continues a wider series of famous landmarks and iconic pubs. Some subjects are known nationally. Others are loved most strongly by a local audience. The best ones often manage to be both.
The Crooked House does exactly that. It is tied closely to South Staffordshire and the Black Country, but its odd shape made it familiar far beyond the area. People who never drank there still knew it by sight. People who did visit often remember the strange feeling of being inside a building where the rules of level ground seemed to have been suspended.
That makes it an ideal subject for a print. It has instant recognition, but also emotional depth.
The final artwork is intended for people who love historic pubs, Black Country landmarks, unusual architecture, and traditional British public house scenes. It also belongs naturally with collectors who follow art prints painting artwork andrew robinson traditional pubs public house art, especially those drawn to places with strong local memories.
I want the finished piece to feel warm rather than mournful. The story behind the building is sad, but the painting should still celebrate what made the pub special. It should remind people of the character, the charm, and the affection that surrounded it.
Prints and products will be available soon
Framed and unframed fine art prints, canvas prints, posters, and ceramic mugs featuring this Crooked House painting will be available in a few months’ time from andrewrobinsonart.com.
I will share more once they are ready. For now, I am pleased to add this piece to the series, even though the subject carries a heavier story than most.
The Crooked House was never perfect in the usual sense. That was its magic. It leaned, sagged, confused the eye, and made people smile. It was warm, odd, memorable, and unmistakably itself.
Those are exactly the qualities that make a historic pub worth painting, and worth fighting to remember.
