It all began in 1993 when architect Richard Rogers posed a question in an article: “How are we going to celebrate the millennium?” This sparked a nationwide competition for ideas, organised by The Sunday Times and the Architecture Foundation.
At the time, my late husband, David Marks, and I had recently established our architectural practice, Marks Barfield. With another project falling through, we had some time on our hands. We decided to enter the competition, but we agreed on one fundamental principle: the landmark should not just be something to look at—it should be something people could experience and celebrate.
David had his lightbulb moment while walking to our office. Standing on a railway bridge, he could see the Crystal Palace in one direction and the BT Tower in the other. It struck him—how could we elevate people high enough to take in those breathtaking views of London?
At that time, there was no such place in the city. The only option was climbing the 360 steps to the top of St Paul’s Cathedral. We discussed it in our kitchen in Stockwell, and I suggested we position it right in the centre of London. If you drew a circle around the city, the South Bank was its heart. It was also historically significant, having hosted the Festival of Britain. Being by the river made it even more fitting for a celebratory landmark.
A grand idea that almost never happened
For the competition, we proposed a 500ft wheel and worked with our preferred structural engineer, Jane Wernick, from Arup.
We didn’t win. In fact, no one did. The organisers dismissed all the ideas as unworthy.
But we weren’t deterred. We formed the Millennium Wheel Company and submitted a planning application to Lambeth Council in 1994. This is where journalist Mira Bar-Hillel from the Evening Standard came in.
Bar-Hillel, the newspaper’s planning correspondent, spotted our application and was intrigued. She came to our office, sceptical at first. “I saw this—what’s it all about?” she asked. We explained our vision, and she was impressed.
She took the idea to her editor, Stewart Steven, who immediately saw its potential for London. Once it was published in the Evening Standard, everything changed.
At the time, we were already embracing digital technology and using computer-generated imagery. This allowed us to create stunning visualisations of the wheel from different points in London. Journalists writing about millennium celebrations started using our images, and the idea gained momentum.
The right support at the right time
This publicity caught the attention of Bob Ayling, then CEO of British Airways. Coincidentally, we already knew him—he lived near us in Stockwell.
Ayling was looking for a project to mark the millennium and saw our vision as a perfect fit. When we met, he made a game-changing offer: British Airways would take a 50% stake in our company and loan us £600,000.
With this funding, we created a detailed model, brought Arup on board, and submitted a refined planning application for a five-year period.
We consulted with every relevant body—London boroughs, English Heritage, and the Royal Fine Arts Commission. It took two years to secure planning permission, two years to raise the necessary funds, and another two years to construct the Eye.
We received unanimous planning approval in 1996, and I naively thought, “That’s it! We’ve done it.”
The biggest challenge: Finding the money
We celebrated in our office, but the real challenge was just beginning. David, dressed in his new suit, visited every major bank in the UK. None of them would fund the project.
In the end, it was two foreign banks—a German one (WestLB) and a Japanese one (Sumitomo)—that believed in the project and provided the necessary financing. The total cost reached around £80 million, with £50 million allocated to construction—a staggering amount at the time.
An unforgettable first ride
I will never forget the first time we went on the London Eye. It was just before New Year’s Eve in 1999. We got a last-minute call: “If you can get here in 30 minutes, you can have a ride.”
We rushed over. As we ascended, a shaft of sunlight lit up St Paul’s Cathedral. The view was breathtaking.
A legacy beyond the wheel
Now, 25 years later, the London Eye remains one of the city’s most beloved landmarks. As long as it is well maintained, I believe it can last at least another 25 years, if not much longer.
When we applied for an extension in 2005, David and I suggested that 1% of ticket sales should be donated to the local community in perpetuity. That was approved, and in many ways, it is the aspect of this project I am most proud of.
The power of the press
Looking back, it is astonishing how close we came to never building the Eye. Without the Evening Standard and the sharp eye of Mira Bar-Hillel, the idea might never have taken off.
It has been an incredible journey—one that proves visionary architecture needs not just imagination, but also the right champions at the right time.