By royal appointment 

Approached from the Canongate, the first think that strikes you about the Queen’s Gallery is just how close it is to the new Scottish Parliament. Hidden from view by the Parliament’s construction site hoardings, the gallery suddenly appears as you round the bottom of the Canongate onto Horses Wynd, opposite what will eventually be the Parliament’s press tower.

The project was commissioned by the Royal Collection Trust, a charitable trust that owns the Queen’s incredible collection of historic artworks. The purpose of the gallery is to exhibit pieces from the Royal Collection in Scotland on a regular basis. A paid-for architectural competition was held in 1999, and Benjamin Tindall Architects was selected to design the £3 million building. The project has been funded from the admission charges to royal residences like Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle and Holyrood Palace.

The gallery has been formed by joining together the shells of two neighbouring buildings: the Duchess of Gordon’s School, designed by Archibald Simpson, finished in 1846, and the Holyrood Free Church, completed four years later by John Henderson. On the outside, Tindall has gone all out to create an entrance much grander in scale than the building’s original doorways. To do this he has pushed a lot of the traditional royal buttons, but with a light touch, introducing one or two contemporary flourishes along the way.

In front of a traditional stone entrance arch, two arcs of green glass have unexpectedly been set into the pavement while, perched above the archway, a rather benign-looking red lion surveys visitors as they enter. Large carved gold lettering announces that this is the Queen’s Gallery, but its chunky, silhouetted shape gives the lettering a faintly informal edge. Two huge, open wooden doors, embellished with golden hinges by Jill Watson, depicting a lion and a unicorn (what else), lead into a small, yellow court, from where automatic glass doors usher visitors inside.

While the entrance leaves you in no doubt that this is a royal building, the impact of the reception foyer is more like a tasteful grotto. The ceiling is low, with the main artificial light source coming from a collection of crackle-glazed mushroom –shaped light fittings, with more than a touch of fairyland about them. Miniature versions hang above an elaborate glass-topped copper ticket desk, designed by VK&C. This is a fun space, designed to enchant visitors; not something you would immediately expect in a royal building. A glass door takes visitors through an etched glass screen, designed by Jacqueline Poncelet and on into the gallery. The door’s push-bar continues Tindall’s playful theme with little bronze figures designed by Jill Watson.

Through the glass door, visitors find themselves standing at the bottom of a staircase with a double height space above. The staircase is a set piece; an elaborate stage set, framed to create a sense of drama and anticipation about what is around the corner. A number of metaphors have been used to describe its beautifully crafted form. “Basketwork” is the description favoured by Ben Tindall. To me, it has a certain Neolithic quality. Above the stair, suspended from the exposed beams and trusses of the old church roof, hangs one of Tindall’s modern chandeliers, familiar to visitors of The Hub.

If the ground floor is about joy and celebration then the gallery spaces on the first floor are all about calm. The aim was to make the viewing of art the most pleasurable experience possible, whilst taking into account the delicate and demanding nature of many of the exhibits. Tindall could easily have opted for a black box space, but the decision to leave the roof structures of the old church exposed has paid dividends. In a bid to avoid an atmosphere of hushed reverence, wooden floors have been favoured over carpet, while the walls are covered in blue material – the larges single order ever received by Bute Fabrics. While ultramarine is a favourite Tindall hue, it was actually chosen by the Royal Collection’s curators.

The lighting for the project involved a creative sparring process between lighting manufacturer Mike Stoane, Tindall and Kevan Shaw Lighting Design. In the galleries, specialist lighting is suspended on tracks and directed onto the exhibits. This is the first time that this particular system has been designed to work at 50 Lux. The atmospheric conditions required for the artworks are strict, with 60° of humidity, plus or minus 2°, at 19°C, plus or minus 0.5°. This turned the servicing the building into a major undertaking, requiring a devilishly complicated plant room, located above the rear gallery of the old school building. Huge volumes of air are constantly being shifted around the building very slowly, with the air being recycled most of the time.

Taking the lift to the reception foyer, you inevitably end up in the royal gift shop. While the sales counter is of the same design as the ticket desk in the foyer, the shop seems at odds with the rest of the project – dazzlingly lit and laid out like every other royal gift shop you have ever been into. The shop was apparently designed by a different firm of designers and it certainly shows.

People will inevitably draw comparisons between the Queen’s Gallery and The Hub, Tindall’s other major contribution to the Royal Mile. Whilst they are located at opposite ends of the Old Town, both buildings are about celebration, colour and pageantry. They both seek to entertain and they both demonstrate Tindall’s passion for artistic collaboration.

People’s reactions, either for or against the Queen’s Gallery, will not be as extreme as their reactions to The Hub. Whilst The Hub is a colourful riot, the Queen’s Gallery is more like a Royal Command Performance: restrained where it needs to be but also managing to have a little fun along the way.