So how high can Matcham's stock now rise? He was commercial to his fingers' ends, he was non-academic, he gave his clients and his audiences what they wanted. Was there anything more to him? Yes. Matcham was technically brilliant. He understood sightlines, he understood acoustics, he understood ventilation, he understood the movement and inter-action of people. He innovated. He even designed a cinema projection-box into the Hackney Empire in 1901. Stand on the stage at the Coliseum and look back at the wide column-free tiers of the auditorium, not a bad seat in the house, and you think: what's holding them up? A lot of clever concealed Matcham-designed structure, is what.

That, in the end, is what keeps Matcham from joining the pantheon of great architects, despite what today is seen as the iconic, people-pulling power of his architecture. He was too competent. His buildings worked just fine a century ago and they work just fine, with adjustments, today. They aren't difficult enough, bloody-minded enough. There's not enough wrong with them. For all his flourishes, he gave primacy to the events happening on stage. He provided the best possible conventional spaces for performers and audiences to interact. He loved theatre more than he loved himself. And that won't do. To achieve greatness, an architect must place himself centre-stage and to hell with everyone else. Frank Matcham, the consummate professional, stood aside.

The Frank Matcham Society: www.frankmatchamsociety.org.uk