ABSTRACT
Most of the week, I work in a grey, concrete, flat-roofed, five-storey ‘IvoryTower’, the Tavistock Centre in London. In spite of its ugly 1960s look, I love this building. I am surprised and hurt on its behalf when I am told by patients, or even colleagues from elsewhere, that they find it intimidating, inaccessible or depressing. I suppose that I love it for the work that I am a part of, and for the people that I work with, patients, students and colleagues alike. I think that many patients, having first braved it, come to feel affection for the building, as the shape of the institution which may be a crucial part of their lives for a time.
