Peckham Levels: Between Potential and Disarray

There are places in London that promise creativity — and others that provoke it. Peckham Levels sits somewhere in between. Housed in a repurposed multi-storey car park, it’s often described as a “creative playground.” But for those who walk through its concrete corridors with a trained eye — or a background in architecture — the experience is more ambiguous.

It’s not that creativity is absent. It’s that it’s scattered, uncurated, and at times overwhelmed by noise. The building itself retains its brutalist bones, with exposed ramps and raw surfaces that speak of a certain urban honesty. Yet the layering of food stalls, studios, pop-ups, and murals feels more like a collage than a composition.

For someone who studied architecture in Florence — where spatial harmony is a civic virtue — Peckham Levels can feel like a provocation. Not because it fails, but because it resists definition. It’s part community hub, part market, part cultural experiment. And in that refusal to be one thing, it mirrors the city itself: messy, vibrant, unfinished.

But perhaps that’s its strength. In a London increasingly polished by gentrification, spaces like Peckham Levels offer a kind of raw openness. They invite participation, not admiration. They prioritise access over aesthetics. And while the result may lack clarity, it pulses with life.

Still, one wonders: what would happen if this energy were channelled with more intention? If the visual identity were curated, the spatial logic refined, the programming aligned with a deeper editorial vision? Could Peckham Levels become not just a container of creativity, but a catalyst?

At Blend London Magazine, we believe in asking these questions — not to judge, but to imagine. Because behind every chaotic space lies a potential narrative. And sometimes, it takes an architect’s instinct to hear it.