Swift has been the response from government and city fathers to the damage caused by looting and riot in Manchester on the night of 9 August. zero tolerance, retribution, firm staterments of intent have been deployed to outline a strategy of 'business as usual'. But what business? Planning policies that marginalise the status of the war dead and represent the administration of the law as just another lifestyle option in the bureaucratic-commercial complex. This is the debased state of the civic landscape in Manchester after nearly a quarter of a century of trickledown urbanism.
I refer, of course, to my perennial hobbyhorse of the pitiful quality of public space in the city. I remarked in my book 'Urban Ethic: Design in the Contemporary City' on the predictably poor examples of contemporary public space which Manchester had produced in the decade after the 1996 IRA bomb. A further five years on, after countless more CABE design review sessions, and a gravy train of expensively remunerated consultants can we discern that the situation has improved? Economic slump has probably slackened the pace, and austerity measures have trimmed the consultancy budgets but terrible judgements in taste and dubious values continue to produce cynically compromised projects.
The proposal for St. Peter's Square, Manchester, has been discussed elsewhere but the question might seriously be asked that if Charlie Gilmour deserves 16 months in prison for desecrating the Whitehall Cenotaph what would be an appropriate term be for those planners and traffic engineers who are unable to cope with the inconvenient position of the Manchester Cenotaph and propose chucking it aside in their own transport tantrum?
At the other end of what was once a great civic route Crown Square has been looted of all dignity. Surrounded by taller and vulgarly aggressive neighbours, chav-ery erected into a form of city-building, the sombre dignity of L.C. Howitt's Crown Court is now confronted by a weirdly rustic haven 'The Oasthouse'. This bizarre intrusion into the public space - yet another pub in a city drowning in licensed premises - makes a permanent feature of last Christmas's temporary 'ski lodge'. Every scrap of available space in the city has to be turned into a source of income and be available to the highest corporate bidder. Respect for the law? Get another round in - and make mine a large one!
It is at least a decade since Manchester's exclusive new apartments took shape behind hoardings lined with warnings on how to avoid drink-fuelled urban violence but the continuing situation at ground level shows no sign of improvement. An apparently non-judgemental state shelled out support for the unloved offspring of one night stands between rampant developers and architects with the metre running, planning authorities observing this messy congress like panting voyeurs. Illiterate to every sense of urban value or decorum the resulting monsters require the most exclusive brands to achieve the most lucrative turnover. Manchester City Council now appears to exist primarily to facilitate the expansion of these corporate brands, and predictably then feigns shock when chaotic individuals mistake this service as a free offer. The misreading of private commerce as the public realm, the downgrading of the collective against the encouragement of individual gratification, preferably paid for on credit, is the degraded cause of our urban malaise.
Thursday, 19 May 2011
The work of James Stirling, on exhibition in the Clore Gallery at Tate Britain (until 21 August) represents the first major exhibition reassessing his contribution to twentieth century architecture since his unexpected death in 1992. The display of so many small drawings dredges up in my tmind an observation from a personal friend of his 'It's hard to imagine those big hands producing such tiny drawings'. The key motif of the work is a crystalline geometry which persistently returns from the student project for the hexagonal mountain rangers' station to the later arts complexes with their sophisticated multilevel circulation strategies.
The exhibition is disappointingly staged. An efficicent subdivision of the oeuvre into early, middle and late periods is fitted snugly into the three gallery spaces. Material which tends to be rather small in size, (although it being the work of Stirling big in scale) is presented in a deadpan but methodical way with drawings on the walls and models associated with particuar projects isolated in groups on centrally placed tables. The judicious use of Stirling's trademark vivid palette would, perhaps, have added a little impact to the display. Inexplicably, a useful timeline of Stirling's career is marooned on a separate floor with a slideshow of photographs. The attention is so completely focused on Stirling that little context is offered to explain the successes and disappointments of his career, the relative paucity of British projects built after the university series and the greater esteem with which Stirling was held in Europe and the United States.
What gives pause for prolonged reflection is less nostalgia for the imagination of a vanished genius than rather more mundane matters. Major buildings are just not produced in this way any more. A whole plethora of digital systems have replaced Stirling's, his partners and assistants manually produced exploration of space and form, leaving the student of architectural evolution with a much harder task to trace the development of a project through repeated iterations of forms in different juxtapositions. The abiding impression is of the archaeology of the recent past, a slightly puzzling display of fascinating forms which continue to be worthy of exploration.
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
(Keen observers should note the irony of the tram name in this photograph)
When I saw two men urinating on The Great Stone, oblivious to it's dedication to 'The Glorious Dead' last October I should have realised the extent of the threat to the city's memorial to its war dead. The news splashed gleefully across yesterday's Manchester Evening News that the city fathers are considering moving the cenotaph in St.Peter's Square to make way for more efficient tramlines follows in a long and tragic line of municipal waste when it comes to their judgements about the public realm. Who can forget such previous triumphs for the council as the mysteriously vanished Market Street obelisk, the similarly vanished 'B of the Bang' or the continuing calamity which is Piccadilly Gardens?
In the Cenotaph's current arrangement one has a rare ensemble of monument and civic buildings which work to dignify the public realm and to lead citizens through their city. The current siting of the tram stops is a problem, but fails to fundamentally impair the beauty of the relationships between the Lutyens monument and Harris's library, with Library Walk, and with the broader confluence of Oxford Street, Peter Street and Lower Mosley Street. The more sensitive projects displayed for St.Peter's Square last summer recognised the importance of this piece of grand urban composition. The obvious solution is to move the tram stops closer to Princess Street, since there is a large ill-defined territory designated as the Peace Gardens, but hardly shown any respect as such.
Would Liverpool consider moving its memorial from outside St.George's Hall, or Sheffield consider moving its memorial from the beautifully restored City Hall? So why should Manchester even contemplate it? Do it's echoes provide some problem to potential investors in the office scheme to replace Elizabeth House? We should be told, but are unlikely to hear that from the MEN or the city council. At least presently the Cenotaph is spared the indignity of being exiled to Spinningfields, but I might come to regret that suggestion.