This artwork is one of the top 20 UK railway artworks voted for by the public as part of Railway 200.

Railway stations are extraordinary places. For some who pass through, they are portals to a new city, or to a new life far away. Joy, sadness, relief, dread – whether arriving by train on the daily commute, leaving aboard bound for a holiday or perhaps even home: railway stations are places of great emotion and life-defining moments. Their platforms and concourses have been ready-made stages for artists since the first passengers started to purchase tickets to ride.

There are physical borders here too. Once in a station, in Britain at least, new bye-laws apply: new rules and regulations, public space becomes private, and fees for services must be paid. Our time is now Railway Time and everything around is regulated by the precision (or imprecision) of the arrival and departure of railway companies' trains.

Waiting for the Train at Bovey Station, Devon

The gap which we so often must mind – between platform and train – marks a change in ideology too: between domestic comfort, low-level classicism and environmental familiarity – to the unapologetic power and high tech modernity of a steel machine ready to shoot us off at up to 125mph. Stations are where so many worlds collide, combine and briefly, co-exist.

London Waterloo station (opened as Waterloo Bridge, intended to be but an intermediate stop on a route further East) is the largest station by floorspace, and by number of platforms, in the UK. It goes without saying therefore that there are an awful lot of worlds colliding, combing and co-existing here each year – something like 62.5 million of them in the year to 2024 according to official data.

Waterloo is the country's third busiest station: down from being the busiest in 2021 because the Elizabeth Line opened with interchanges at already-busy Liverpool Street and Paddington, sending their entry/exit data into orbit.

1942, watercolour by Denys George Wells (1881–1973)

With Waterloo being the busiest (at the time) and largest station, it might come as no surprise that it was the location chosen for a huge railway-based artistic commission. The artwork in question was that for the London-based Science Museum's new Land Transport Gallery in 1967, commissioned from Terence Cuneo.

Measuring a phenomenal 20ft x 10ft it was, unsurprisingly, the largest canvas he worked on during a career which saw him create more than 6,000 artworks – and was painted in situ in the Museum itself. Assisted by artist Antony Kerr, this extraordinary piece is a record not just of the railway at a moment of transition, but of the engineering behind it and of the society which relies on and reacts to it.

Before we look at the detail, it is useful to understand that Cuneo and Kerr's viewpoint is deliberate. It was chosen to match that of two previous artworks, commissioned by the Southern Railway, from noted illustrator Helen McKie (1889–1957) who depicted the scene as Waterloo Station – War (1943) and Waterloo Station – Peace (1947), the latter then released as a poster timed to coincide with the station's centenary celebrations in 1948.

1943, watercolour by Helen Madeleine McKie (1889–1957)

1947, watercolour by Helen Madeleine McKie (1889–1957)

Helen McKie's earlier work contrasts neatly with her second: the careful observer will note how soldiers, once dressed in camouflage, are later dressed in victorious military garb – and maybe even how nuns appear in both. She had previously, for the Southern Railway, illustrated many of the varied passengers going about wartime business – including those nuns – and her work as military artist is notable.

So, the 1967 commission has form – with completion in 1968 – twenty years on from McKie's companion pieces, marking much change in both science and society. It was also a watershed moment – perhaps we underestimate the cultural perception and impact now of the change – but it was the last year of British Railways using steam locomotives on its mainline timetabled train services.

Cuneo is known for hiding a tiny mouse in his paintings – something that was quite literally trademarked later in life, and that little rodent is of course present in this. But with such a huge canvas to fill and with so much human life to play with, there's more wit to it than that. Beginning with a selection of characters, the informed may spot then-Prime Minister Harold Wilson being barked at by – surely no coincidence – a bulldog; the artist himself, plus his wife and his daughter, and his assistant too. The artist's own car has a prominent position.

The Director of the Science Museum is present, as is Colonel Simmons who was Keeper of the Gallery at the time. One might spot a man with a Sikh turban in a similar location to where soldiers walked in McKie's work. Vignettes of all sorts – representative of so many moments of emotion and life as might be found in a station – are here.

A tiny miniature of a previous commission is included bottom right too – Cuneo's Clapham Junction poster for the Southern Region, the location of which is just a few miles down the tracks. Care is taken on the depiction of the building, with the scene anchored as ever by the commanding four-sided clock: showing now as it was in 1943, with 24-hour clock numerals: a pioneering implementation by the Southern Railway only adopted much later by the rest of the network.

To the left is the cinema – which once showed newsreels and later cartoons – and various retail outlets and machines across the concourse.

Unlike most of Cuneo's work, it is less about the railway and more about the real way in which people use it, but in the platforms there is still much of note. There is a Bulleid steam locomotive, and what might well be the Bournemouth Belle Pullman-quality dining train – although it's probably running late, if the time on the clock is consistent.

An M7 tank locomotive from an older era is shunting carriages in another platform, with slightly (but not very) more modern green electric multiple units at others, like this one.

Southern Railway Electric Locomotive No. 182

Further to the right is a Class 73 electro-diesel – perhaps shunting wagons in the small goods area of the station.

The painting was moved later to the National Railway Museum in York – where it has been fully restored. This included making good some damage which occurred during an internal move, and the varnishing of some areas which, likely due to its size, were missed back in 1968. Cuneo and Kerr's work is magnificent, rewarding both the casual and determined observer. It is truly a great work of art.

Tim Dunn, writer

This content was funded by Railway 200

About Railway 200

Railway 200 is a cross-industry, UK Government-backed, partner-led celebration of the 200th anniversary of the birth of the modern railway, commemorating the opening by George Stephenson of the Stockton and Darlington Railway in the North East of England in 1825, a journey that changed the world forever. It explores the past, present and future of rail, and how it has shaped our lives and livelihoods. Numerous activities and events are planned throughout 2025, many of which are listed at www.railway200.co.uk