edge of darkness: dungeness

a few weeks before christmas i visited a part of the coast of england which i had never had any cause to go near before. as someone who is quite accustomed, and indeed a hearty supporter of, walks along abandoned beaches in winter, this was obviously a quite exciting prospect. whilst we were based in camber, which i would definitely recommend as a terrific winter beach – camber sands was a huge expanse of nothing, it was the short hop down the coast to dungeness that left a lasting impression.

situated at the dropping off point of kent on the east coast, dungeness is a headland like no other i have seen in this country. as the road winds towards the coast there is a certain point where you switch from being in the uk to regarding an ‘other place.’ the vast expanse of, well, not much, feels far more like the images you see of abandoned scandanavian coastal regions than britain. following signs for the old lighthouse, the barely marked road flanked on one side by ‘the village’ on one side and the expanse of shingle on the other.

the accommodation of dungeness village resembles a cross between railway carriages, tin huts and sheds. at the time i felt this was a mere observation, but it turns out that the majority of the chalet-esque huts are actually built around the base block of railway carriages from the point in the headland’s history when the southern railway owned the majority of the land. these are building constructed to stand up to bracing elements, but also to retain a sense of impermanence. one picks up a sense of a classic ‘stay indoors until the strangers pass’ spaghetti western in terms of atmosphere, though then again i did visit early-ish on a saturday morning, with the only people out and about on the ‘streets’ an assortment of folks gauping at the bleakness (like myself), fishermen (who one presume are all very accustomed to this view) and twitchers who had ventured down from the rspb reserve. that said, the britannia inn was hugely welcoming. there was something quite fantastic about drinking in what felt like the last pub in the country, the warmth of the open fire and strange collection of keyrings almost accentuating the nothingness outside.

     

the beach at dungeness is famed for being one of the largest expanses of shingle in the world, and as such is of ecological and scientific importance. the headland is protected through various means, including designation as a national nature reserve, special protection area, special area of conservation and a site of specific scientific interest. december wasn’t the right time to go hunting for wildlife, though some research suggests that this part of the world is home to a host of rare spiders, beetles, moths and bees. on my visit, the main focus was on taking a wander along the boardwalk over the shingle to reach the coast.

on the headland itself there are three main landmarks which standout when looking back from the coast. the most attractive two points are the lighthouses which stand at either end of the main residential stretch, with the nuclear power station lurking in the background. at one end is the 1901 built high light tower/the old lighthouse. this name could be seen as something of a misnomer, given that it is actually the fourth lighthouse which has stood on this stretch of coastline. due to the shifting nature of the sea, the beacons constructed in 1615, 1635 and 1790 all became increasingly redundant as the coast receded, meaning that the growing shingle banks were creating a greater distance between the beacons and the ships they were to guide. the light from the 1901 lighthouse, first lit in 1904,  could be seen from 18 miles away. however, the building of the power station in the 1950s blocked the beam from the lighthouse, thus rendering it as redundant as those which preceded it. however, this lighthouse escaped the bulldozer, and stands now as a tourist attraction.

the fifth dungeness lighthouse was first lit in 1961, and continues to provide a beacon for sailors along the east coast now. where the old lighthouse has a very traditional fat at the bottom tapering towards lantern design, this 60s piece of utilitarian engineering stands like an interjection of the modern world into the forgotten surroundings of dungeness, though with far more conventional beauty that the behemoth-esque lines of the nuclear power stations which sit beyond the old lighthouse. i think the 1961 lighthouse is possibly the focal point of this conurbation, but then again i am a sucker for that era of design.

     

i’ll also posit a controversial point; i’m moved to argue that the power stations actually add to the feel of dungeness. there is something about the looming presence of the huge buildings which offsets the cluster of huts which make up the village – the power stations lend a sense of solidness which adds to the accumulated emptiness of the rest of the landscape, a concrete concretion within the shingle.

     

yet it is not the power stations which characterise this area. dungeness is all about the relationship between the shingle, sea, rails and time. the human hand shows itself in the placement of objects, yet it is the battle between object, elements and the clock which give this area a real sense of place, a place which is nowhere yet could not exist anywhere but here. dungeness is about huts and boats which were once by the sea, but have been left to decay as the sea continued its journey away from the english coast, receding back into itself, leaving these objects as remainders of a time which may have passed 10 days ago, 10 years ago, 10 generations ago. it is this complex relationship which may yet prove the final undoing of dungeness too, with some theorists positing that the sea will return inland within the next 150 years or so, leaving only the lighthouses above the waves as a reminder of the lives which once floated here.

being followed home – yorkshire exhibtions

over the past week or so i have seen some wonderful exhibitions in sheffield and leeds, some of which are coming towards their closing dates. here is a quick summary of some of the best, which i would highly recommend fitting into your plans for this weekend.

standing out as a) the most thought provoking and impressive display and b) the one  that closes on saturday, i would put tom ireland’s notes on western expansion , currently on display at bloc projects, at the top of the list of things to see. ireland’s investigation into the relationship(s) between modernist art and the western space programme of the 20th century as proponents of interrelated aesthetic and ideological values is a wonderfully thought out show. somehow this is the second terrific lunar themed exhibition i have seen this year, following republic of the moon at fact in liverpool, and it holds similar qualities to part of the earlier show in that it places the viewer into a relationship with the space/space. ireland’s triumph at the centre of this experience is a soundpiece which slows beethoven’s moonlight sonata down to fill the time that neil armstrong spent walking on the moon. with this ireland builds a work of brilliant poignancy, which changes all relationships within the gallery space by placing the viewer into an atmosphere of slow but recognisable progress towards a recognised but unrecognisable goal. it is a rarity that i see a show where the physical embodiment of the art take such a back seat, but here the ‘art’ on the ground/walls is there as a placemarker on your journey along the soundscape.

tom ireland, courtesy of bloc projects

hoping down the road from bloc, i cannot even begin to express how much i love the print it exhibition/pop-up artist book shop at site gallery. the entirety of site has been taken over by books, books and more books, and as you may have picked up from reading this blog i am quite a fan of books! the main gallery space sees a collaboration between the artists’ publishing platform copy and the coracle press archive, resulting in a beautiful look at what can be achieved by the medium of the artist book, and some of the best examples i have seen of this in a while. real standouts throughout the exhibition were the work of erica van horn of ireland’s coracle. the standout piece from van horn’s work in my opinion was a series of books detailing the interior of envelopes, before using the medium to explore art history. make sure to check out the related events and talks that copy have planned alongside this display which look fantastic.

print it, courtesy of site gallery

hop through into the smaller gallery space and you will find your wallet trying to dive out of your back pocket, as site have pulled together a collection of the best artists books available in their pop-up shop. i mentally spent around £160 in there after a quick snoop around, with work by simon faithful, john dilnot, robert williams and the ever-impressive sheffield publicity department. it is also wonderfully arranged, using pallets as low budget shelving units, a lovely touch.

print it, courtesy of site gallery

a quick dash across sheffield is well worth risking the sun/howling wind/soaking rain (delete as applicable) is well worth it to get over to bank street arts, where they also have a pair of fantastic displays of artist books presently. clare rogers’ from here you can almost see the sea: a response to living in plymouth is, quite simply, brilliant. rogers uses a variety of printed to media to explore what her hometown of plymouth means to here, what it looks like, why she loves it, why she hates it, and what it feels like to be there. this sounds like an interesting enough project for a visual artist, but here the artist uses words alone to engage with her subject matter, combining ‘photography’ with poetry and book works to create her image of plymouth. i’ve been back to this exhibition twice already, and suspect i will be there again before it closes at the start of september.

clare rogers, courtesy of bank street arts

the second artist book display at bank street at the moment is elisabeth tonnard’s sheffield artist books prize 2011 winning a dialogue in useful phrases. i’ll admit that i found the printed version of this piece far more effective than the soundpiece which has been created using project guttenberg audio files to re-contextualise tonnard’s book. still a really interesting idea, which is creates a great dialogue from abstract phrases.

elisabeth tonnard, courtesy of bank street arts

lastly for this roundup, a train trip over to leeds to see a fantastic new exhibition at blip blip blip, the gallery space within leeds college of art. this week saw the opening of jenny west’s projection, and exhibition which explores the relationship between architectural space and domestic objects through the process of drawing. or, in other words, stunningly detailed and precise drawings of jelly moulds which look better than most architectural designs you see. west has a habit of leaving large amounts of her construction work on show within her work, which for me works brilliantly as the process is given as much of an airing at the product. the relationship between the works on paper and the large scale wall drawing create an interesting comparison of scale and working practices, and if you get over there quickly enough you might still be able to grab one of the beautifully presented essays which accompany the artist’s work.

nb – the below image doesn’t do west’s work anywhere close to justice

jenny west, courtesy of blip blip blip

 

victory of ghosts

one morning this week i noticed a flurry of activity on the origin princess street building site. the origin, a massive mixed use project on the corner of princess street and whitworth street, has been a ghost town for ages, with the only signs of any life being the two tower cranes watching over the site. for some reason the lights were still on in the cranes, i never could work out who was putting the pennies in the meter for them. anyway, i digress. the cranes came down this week.

i’m not massively sure what this signifies, as it has been nigh on impossible to find any news relating to the build. have the developers finally given up on origin, or have they sold the site on? having been unveiled as a high end project some years ago, the developers west properties built an identity for the project that gave off the impression that if you weren’t patrick bateman then there was very little point in you even considering the prospect of being part of this.

here is the quite horrible website for the project, which is seemingly trying to sell people the idea that awful, vacant people with no love of life want to be ‘part’ of origin. origin-princessstreet.com

in may of 2009 the build was seemingly very much on track, with an early 2011 opening scheduled in. piles were driven, a pretty hefty slab put in place, and then… well, nothing. one can only presume that the money ran out, and that was it. like many of the big building projects around manchester that sprang up in the mid-00′s, work slowed, and then stopped. according to the developers “origin occupies one of the very last prime development sites in the city.” shame that it appears to have been an abject failure then.

rather than constructing the quite oddly designed buildings, the origin site is now just a very specific set of foundations, waiting for someone to either pick it up and complete the build, or rip it apart. rather than representing a fantastic space, slap bang between oxford road, piccadilly and canal street, this site is all but unusable. i do hope that someone finds a way to finish this project, but i believe that the ‘aspirational aims’ of the original plan will have to be ditched. opulent office, spa and lifestyle choices aren’t going to sell. personally, i’d like to see an effort to introduce a green space into this area, akin to sackville street gardens, though i acknowledge that this is totally unrealistic. we shall have to wait and see what happens next.

farewell library walk

firstly i must make an apology. over the past couple of months i have become massively bogged down with lots of other projects, so have neglected poor old in a town so small. i have had ‘fans’ of the blog (it still perplexes me that i have fans) complain that i haven’t given them any new reading material for a while. for this i am sorry. consider this post the start of 2011 for this here blog.

- – - – - – -

i have previous said on here that ‘library walk, the sweeping curved passage way linking st. peter’s square with mount street, is one of the most beautiful parts of manchester – with the curvature of both buildings drawing you through.’ i still stand by this statement; i do believe that library walk is one of the finest pieces of street planning in the city, and highlights the fine architecture which creates it’s barriers. yet this week the street has closed.

as i have previously written about, the central library has closed for extensive renovations, as has much of the town hall with visitor services shifted out to first street. as this work moves into a new phase, library walk has been closed to the public. whilst for some this represents an inconvenience, to me it actually hurts the view of the city.

manchester is a city which makes much of its’ appeal as a tourist destination, both to british and international visitors. 2011 in particular promises to be a big year for the tourism draw, with the third incarnation of the manchester international festival, and the promised opening of the national football museum at urbis. visitors to the international festival in particular, with the festival pavillion in albert square, will pass by an uninspiring wall of fencing and transit vans and walk on by past library walk.

now i’m not trying to suggest that this building work shouldn’t be going on. the council will surely have factored in the importance of library walk, an ultimately gone with the decision that for the two building’s beside it to be redeveloped leading to the closure. i just look forward to the day that we have it’s sweeping curves back.

number one

when the posters started to go up a lot of people thought that they must be a joke, probably for some insurance company or something like that. number one, first street. get out of town. however, this was no joke. manchester city council have indeed emptied out the town hall, and moved the office staff to this new building, which holds the natty address of number 1, first street, manchester. (nb – it is let down by it’s postcode, which should surely be m1 1m).

‘first street’ has been invented down at the bottom of whitworth street west, and this has been a building project that was kept in the dark for quite a while. as much as i was approaching this building with a certain amount of pre-prepared apathy, i quite liked it. the interior is nice and spacious, though a little confusing with a multitude of waiting areas around the building. i really like the idea of city library having a presence in the building, with this satellite to the main library also serving as a book drop off/pick up point if you need it.

the landscaped garden around the back of the block like building is really quite pleasant, and not what you would expect from a behemoth-like council headquarters. muted purples and greens worked well together, and i can imagine this being a great place for folks to wind down in the summer months. in a city which is quite bereft of green space, first street has been very thoughtfully put together, with an expanse of lawn filling as much room as the car park does on the other side. i think that the council appear to have joined most of the dots together properly here.

yet things aren’t quite finished here. despite being installed months ago, the gymnast sculptures are still wrapped in bubble wrap. i can only guess the these pieces are designed to give your walk to sort out your council tax some energy, but when covered in their protective layers you wonder if they are telling you more about the shell shock you are about to receive. not that anyone other than me gave them a second glance whilst i was visiting.

dancing above your head, i can’t really see why these gymnast are here. if they were re-purposed from 2002, and thus representing a terrific era in this city’s regeneration, then i’d get it. but these are new new new. where are the bees? where are the tributes the hallé? no pankhursts. no gladstone. there isn’t even one of the cows. it just feels a lot like a missed opportunity to me. i think someone else may have similar feelings…

wooden ships

i don’t tend to use this blog as a forum to make political comment, but i will admit that this post has been indirectly inspired by the news that hms ark royal, the current royal navy flagship, is to be decommissioned. i saw the ark royal fairly up close a few weeks ago when on a visit to the historic dockyard in portsmouth, alongside a number of other navy vessels, and was struck by a) the size of the thing and b) just how many war ships there are, sat, floating on our coast. as a namby pamby liberal i’ll admit to being surprised at the level of military presence, though this naval force is apparently there as a deterrent, as the british navy always has been. i’m not massively convinced either way on this argument.

—————————————————————————————————————–

however, i’m not here to do a doom and gloom post on the spending review. whilst in portsmouth i was lucky enough to be taken on a trip to see hms warrior 1860 and hms victory. here are two ships which are massive parts of british history, and the historian in me was doing loop-de-loops about seeing them.

hms warrior was the world’s first iron hulled warship, and acted as the ultimate floating deterrent. warrior famously never fired a single shot, despite the massive amounts of armaments on the ship. the boat carried 40 cannons, which are more than a little unnerving to be around, even if the majority of those on the main deck are fibreglass replacements.

wandering round the ship you are immersed in the life of a nineteenth century warship and that of the sailors therein. the scale of the warrior is possibly the most impressive thing, and as you climb down the decks, you realise just how much of this boat there is. it is only on seeing it again from the outside you can begin to put things into context, realising how much time you have just spent under water.

comparing the experience of seeing hms warrior up close, and indeed from the inside, with that of visiting the merseyside maritime museum in liverpool brings up some interesting parallels. at the maritime museum i had been stuck by the number of ‘disaster tourists’ who were there to learn of the titanic and the u-boat attacks of the second world war. i guess part of the difference is visiting the museum to see fragments of what is left, as opposed to a heritage site like the historic dockyard, where the life of the ships is being celebrate, alongside the obvious shadow of british engineering prowess.

celebration is certainly the correct term with which to consider hms victory. victory is probably the most famous warship ever built, and it is a bloody impressive sight. [nb - unfortunately the interior of the ship is off-limits to amateur photographers, so i've only got the one image of victory] the story of victory is surely quite well-known. battle of trafalgar, nelson inspiring his men to victory before getting hit whilst on deck, then dying below just after victory was assured.

wandering around the ship it is hard to believe that this vessel was built in the early eighteenth century, and is still in such good shape now. victory is now stationed in a dry dock at portsmouth, but the scale and grandeur of the ship is still impressive. the decadence of certain areas of the ship are a stark contrast to the coal rooms where the cannon shots were prepared, and the massive food stores in the hull. however, it is obviously the lord nelson related elements of the tour which prick up ears the most. x marks the spot on the quarter deck where the french musket entered nelson’s shoulder and proceeded to lodge itself in his spine. below deck the tour halts at the spot where a british hero died, which is actually quite a surreal experience. here one of the most famous names in history gave up all hope of life, and now 200 years later you can stop and wonder how much he was bleeding or what it smelt like.

i really would suggest visiting these two ships should you ever be in portsmouth. the one disappointment of the day was that the new mary rose museum is still not finished, though then again i now have a reason to definitely return. speaking of returns, i promise that the next post on here will be a return to manchester, the city that inspires me on a daily basis.

get out of the city, and into the sunshine

having spent months either sat in the library or working in the makeshift ‘office’ in the kitchen, the submission of my dissertation heralded the chance to escape from the city. don’t get me wrong, i love manchester. this city has become way more than just a home for me, it is part of my inspiration, and part of my drive to do as much as i do. though i am a country boy at heart. my parents live in a small village (one road, one post office, one shop, one school, two pubs) which is well placed for walks round reservoirs and whatnot. i love doing that kind of thing, getting out in the fresh air, going for a good walk, seeing some of the amazing scenery which is around, and enjoying a few local ales in the pub afterwards. with this in mind, a 40 minute train journey to edale seemed like the perfect idea.

first stop was a quick look around the moorland centre to check that all the routes we planned on covering were open. the moorland centre was developed by the moors for the future partenership, and is operated by the peak district national park authority. in eagerness to get on with the walk i didn’t take any photos, but it is a lovely little building, a really tasteful stone a glass arrangement with a living grass roof and a stunning waterfall running down the middle of it. i pressume that the water fall is related to waste water in the building, but haven’t found anything to confirm this. anyhow, it was a great place to start. i also picked up a leaflet for the national trust’s a year on the estate podcast – a great piece of new media work from the NT.

leaving the moorland centre we passed the church, through the village of edale, then around one of the pubs to head off into the peaks. rather than following the pennine way (edale is the start/end point of the cross pennine trail) we headed straight up into the hills, and enjoyed the views that came with taking on the ascent. being out in the countryside, with no emergency service sirens, nobody punching in codes to get into their buildings, no stereos pumping of r’n'b smashes, was amazing. i could hear birds singing, and not just some dirt covered pigeons. i could try and explain why it was so great, but instead i’ll let the pictures do the talking…

the best part of four hours were whiled away, before heading back to the starting point of the old nag’s head. this is a nice little pub, though i’ll admit that it didn’t have quite as much character as i’d hoped for. i had a pint of their signature ale, the 1577 – named after the year the pub was built. a cracking, malty, dark ale. it had a look of mild to it, but the flavour of something much more stouty. had it not been for a wasp that wouldn’t bugger off more beers may have been sampled.

instead, a wander back towards the train station and a swift drink in the rambler. whilst the rambler again suffered from a certain lack of character inside, the beer garden outside more than made up for this. rather than the car park setting of the nag’s head, the rambler has a number of benches in a nice field, with views out across the peaks. there was also the small matter of the chickens wandering around, and a very media savvy goat which posed as soon as i pulled my phone out near it.

and that’s that. less than an hour away from piccadilly station there is this lovely village, the ideal place to escape the city for a day. with a trust OS map already in the bag, return trips out to edale are definite.

the sound of the underground

i’ve always been interested in the tales of the network of tunnels which run underneath manchester. from the supposed nuclear bunker of the guardian telephone exchange which runs underneath the city, to the tunnels around deansgate, i find it fascinating. in a city like london the underground is a well known route, much as it is in paris, glasgow and sao paulo to name but a few. yet in manchester, the underneath of the city is hidden away.

keith warrender has written a couple of books on the subject, and seems like a real font of knowledge on the subject. having been to a talk by him before, in which he was obviously holding loads back as he wasn’t allowed to encourage people to break into the tunnels, i know that there is lots of interesting stuff down there. as such, when manchester confidential started running their tunnel tours it was a must to try out.

the tunnel tour takes you into the salford junction canals, specifically the section underneath the great northern warehouse. assembling outside the bridgewater hall, a group of foolhardy folks (some with the suggested torch and sturdy shoes, some in work shoes with their shopping) headed off with our tour guide to descend under the city via a secret staircase in the great northern. the reason that the canal can be accessed from this point is that the great northern was a massive, well, warehouse in a former life. the warehouse could be accessed by road, rail and canal – making it a great resource.

the canal was actually usurped pretty soon after it was open, though found a new life some years later. the salford junction canal was used as a bomb shelter during the second world war. this much i knew already. this much is about all the knowledge i left with. unfortunately our tour guide didn’t really provide any further information, instead pointing out potential points of interest before declaring that she didn’t know what they were. this was a real shame, as i’d been hoping for a tour which would really cast some light on the tunnels, and offer me some new insights. our guide seemed more interested in urging the group to try out their primal screams than give us any history.

to me this was a missed opportunity. we were in an incredible space, which is very rarely seen by the public. yet i left feeling a bit underwhelmed. the tunnels were brilliant, and everything i’d hoped they would be. stopping to think that we were standing underneath the city, whilst life went on above completely unaware of both our presence, and for most people, that this network even exists. this was all counter-balanced by a guide who left me feeling that i could have done a better job. read up on your subject a bit, it should surely be a requirement of these positions. stating that there is no-one who could tell you any more about the tunnels in wwII is just lazy surely – not everyone who was around in the war has disappeared from the city. plans will still exist somewhere. i don’t think it is too much to ask that tour guides know what they are talking about, is it?

perhaps i had a little too much prior knowledge? either way, the tunnels were amazing. seeing these vast, cathedral-like spaces underneath the city centre, was like something from neverwhere. there were areas that were as untouched, others which had been converted during the war and still bore the painting and signage from that era. it is a shame that you can’t see more of the tunnels due to flooding, but you can’t really argue with nature.

knowing that this series has sold really well, i would hope that manchester confidential, or any of the other groups who run city tours, can convince whoever holds the rights to the guardian network (bt at the moment, i think) to allow people into them. until that point, they still exist underground, and unseen.

dancing about architecture

i have never really held bradford in any real regard. having lived with a couple of guys from that part of the world who had less than complimentary words for the city, i have never really given it a second thought. i had visited the city a couple of times as a child to visit the (as it was then) national museum of photography, film and television; these trips involved getting off the train, walking down the street, going to the museum, then heading back for the station. as a kid i guess my eyes didn’t wander up to the rooftops as often as they do now.

this week i revisited the national media museum, and found myself faced with some striking architecture, some very bland 80s/90s new builds, loads of massive industrial revolution era sandstone numbers, and roadworks. roadworks everywhere. it would appear that the crazy plan to sink chunks of the city centre to create a lake/water feature are actually coming to fruition.

alhambra theatre and bradford odeon

there is no doubt that the two buildings which stood out most. as i exited the museum i was struck by two domed theatres, at very different ends of the regeneration spectrum. the alhambra theatre, which claims to be the north’s premiere touring venue, was almost gleaming with its’ white and green facade. in fact, on such a clear summer day it was quite difficult to look at for long periods as the white of the building reflected the sun. the grade II listed building was built in 1913, and extensively refurbished in 1986. i can’t help but suspect that 1986 wasn’t the last time that this building had funding thrown at it.

my feelings about the theatre varied with each angle i caught of it. the building was striking, with architecture that doesn’t really fit with the period it was built, the great domed roof looking like it would be better suited to marrakesh than bradford. there was also something about the paintwork that i couldn’t quite put my finger on that made me uneasy. there was something too, well, clean about it all. this felt like someone was trying to project 1920s hollywood onto the building.

alhambra (foreground) and odeon (background) domes

it was only as i looked beyond the alhambra that i made sense of this. right next to this immaculately treated theatre building was something which i was far more interested in. a grand art deco building, possibly also a theatre, which was everything that the re-painted alhambra wanted to be. the paint job on the alhambra was mimicking the architecture of its neighbour, yet rather than capture a glory it looked like a pale imitation to me.

here was a building that ticked all my boxes. a grand entertainment palace, the scale of which and architectural stylings dwarfed the apparent star turns adjacent to it. where one building was cover in paint and made up like a cheap starlet, the other bared its’ bricks and colonnades – a real greta garbo, truly beautiful. once i got back to manchester i did a bit of research and discovered that this building started out life in 1930 as the new victoria, before hosting starts of the silver screen and great pop acts during the fifties as the gaumont. the building became the odeon in 1969, before closing its doors in 2000.

projecting this retrospective knowledge onto a building that fascinated me on first sight could only lead to one point. here was a stunning old odeon building, which had been the heart of entertainment in the city for some years, yet now was left to disrepair. back in may i dragged a group of friends out to the odeon on oxford street to celebrate my birthday in the way i saw fit, protesting about the possible demolition of the old odeon cinema. i just don’t understand why these fantastic buildings, which are truly iconic pieces of architecture, which in my opinion could define the areas in which they lay, are (at best) being left to crumble. the bradford odeon has all the tell-tale signs of a building which has been left unloved for too long, crumbling masonry, water marks all over the building, cracked and smashed windows.

yet it would appear that the bradford odeon may have a future. the bradford odeon rescue group appears to be a really well organised campaign, and if their poster below is anything to go of then i like their style. the borg appears to have a lot of public support, which may well see the building saved for future generations. personally i think that the building would be ideal for a mixed media exhibition space, kind of like fact in liverpool. however, taking into account the current trend for stripping away funding from arts and culture, i doubt this could come to fruition at any time soon. at best the odeon will continue to stand, and avoid being converted into expensive flats which i assume bradford city centre needs as much as manchester does. here’s hoping.

as an afterthought, check out this bbc gallery of photos from inside the odeon. faded glamour, it looks terrific. i’d open it back up as it is.

ps – i’ve just found these photos of the odeon too, which are even more breathtaking than the bbc ones.

the first days of spring

i woke up this morning to see that manchester had reverted back to looking a bit overcast, and not massively appealing. which is a shame, as over the past couple of weekends spring has been trying its level best to break through. personally, i’m a massive fan of autumn and winter, which probably makes me forget just how nice the sun is when it comes out. whilst i was walking through the city on saturday afternoon i was struck by how much of a difference the sun makes, with a bit of warmth and the extra light transforming both the atmosphere and the architecture. here are a few photos from the canal bridge by knott bar on deansgate, and all saints park off oxford road, which i shot to try and capture the sunny feeling. i like the ones of with bare trees against the blue sky, kind of an icon of the start of spring. in a few weeks time they will hopefully be covered in blossom and leaves, yet at the moment they are just springing into life.