Wednesday 28 March 2012

London - architecturally speaking


Ever since I was a child I have been in regular contact with London. My Dad took my sister and I every half term in a bid to get us to know the City (impelled by a profound fear that we would be left on our own whilst out clubbing with friends and not know our way home), I came to love W1 as a teenager visiting family, got to know Bloomsbury as a student, Holborn and the Strand as a jeweller’s assistant (when I first noticed the Griffins of the City of London and the architecture of the Royal Courts of Justice) and now east of Tower Gateway working with young people. (This post would have been accompanied by my own photos but my phone got nicked!)

(Griffin, thanks to DT model at picture nation)


When I’m meeting friends ‘in town’ I often choose to walk rather than take the tube. It is good to see the city pass, walk along the banks of the Thames and take in the cool air of the city at leisure. On these many walks I have noticed what a hotchpotch of architectures we have in London. What follows is an attempt to catalogue the history of London, architecturally.

Londinium – London of brick part I

The first bit of London I was ever met was Roman. It is a piece of the London wall, now comfortably nestled, and only slightly oppressed by The Grange Hotel. Although now crumbling, the wall that used to encompass the Roman city was a formidable structure that used to run along London wall up to the Barbican (where there was a Roman fort) and down to the waterfront. You can see a statue of Trajan at Tower Hill; not often you put up a monument to someone who invaded your city (!). Encompassed within the wall Roman London had a forum, an amphitheatre and a mint; politics, entertainment and money ran the city even then!

(thanks Wikipedia!)

Ludenwic – London of wood

London was not abandoned after the Romans left, but the archaeology often looks like that. So much so that until the 1980s archaeologists and historians were at loggerheads as to whether a Saxon London even existed! Saxon London was wooden and it was western. As usual the Saxons were really into their recycling and choosing alternative locations for building; they built their London in Covent Garden. Other outlying towns and villages, now part of Greater London, have retained their Saxon names, Paddington, Lambeth and Fulham, sound familiar? The Saxons left other imprints on the City, the irregular shape of Park Lane follows the Saxon farming patterns for a start (thanks Pete Ackroyd for that gem!)
Beyond the Saxon period London continued to be a city of wood and recycling with the odd incursion of stone e.g. Tower of London built in stone by the Normans to make a point (they all had small willies!). The lack of fire-retardant structures was a frequent problem for the people of London. Fires and pestilences plagued the city on frequent occasions, often raising the city to the ground. But the occupations of older Londoners still lives on in present day toponyms; Milk Street, Wood Street, Cooper’s Row, Lime Street (think limestone rather than citrus fruits), Poultry and Vintry for example.

But London is a regenerative city, like the Phoenix that rises from the ashes, London rises again. After the great fire of London came a new age; London in the age of stone.

London of Stone

After the Great Fire and right on through the Regency period London was expanding. Life expectancies were still short but rumours like Dick Whittington’s were rife, so immigration to the city was high. The wealthy saw money to be made in the City and started building. Although Smithfields, Moorfields and Farringdon were still rural fields; the centre of the City of London was exploding.  Roads around Holborn and the Strand, heading west from St Pauls are dominated by this architecture. Big limestone-fronted buildings that announced wealth, the Bank of England built by John Soanes in this period illustrates the point precisely. Some buildings have stayed on site and retained their usage since this period. Take for instance, Twinings tea shop on the Strand; classic 18th century architecture and still serving tea since 1706. There are other rare gems to find too, the Guildhall Library with its Hundustani Gothic entrances (1788) and the College of Arms (1670s) features amongst many guild buildings from this period.


(Bank of England, thanks to itraveluk)

Although the Royal Courts of Justice just miss the Regency period, being designed in the 1860’s and not actually opened until the Victorian Gothic period, the building shares many similarities with eighteenth century construction. The courts are a dazzling white in a city perceived as morally and literally dirtied; the edifice is elaborately decorated with perfect archways and minute shapes. Even now it makes an impression on the area around it. I did have a lovely picture of the RCJ from behind but my phone got nicked, sorry everyone. The photo showed that at the heart of RCJ is warm wood and soft lighting, hidden under the blinding brightness. Just like many of the churches in the city of London built at the time; forbiddingly holy (and stone) on the outside, soft and wooden on the inside.

London Metropolis – London of brick part II.

Thanks to transport links, better sanitation and continuing immigration pressure the London of the Victorian period saw huge expansion. Rail travel particularly saw the construction of great high ceilinged stations and commuter satellites. It was during the Victorian period that ‘Moorgate’ was no longer the gate to a ‘moor’ but a metropolis. It is the time of markets, Covent Garden, Shoreditch and of great overcrowding.  Slums, particularly in East London were popping up in great numbers trying to accommodate the vast numbers of people in the city. Building south of the river also began in earnest being served by railway lines and an increasing number of bridges to ‘the City’ (Battersea, Blackfriars, Putney, Westminster and Tower Bridge being perhaps the most famous). This is also the age that brought us the Houses of Parliament (1840) and other buildings like the RCJ, and Adelphi and Theatre Royal theatres. Evidently since the Roman times those key strands of parliament, economy and entertainment remain.

(Tower Bridge, thanks to destination360)

London of Concrete – Why would anyone want to talk about that?!

London of Glass

Today  I would call London the city of glass. Most of its new buildings are typified by the Gherkin and the Shard, or perhaps less famously the Lloyds building on Lime Street, or 88 Wood Street. Glossy, glassy, comedy shaped office blocks. All traditional forms are inverted, the glass and infrastructure is on the outside, you are supposed to be able to see in. One construction in Bishopsgate actually claims to invert the traditional building shape of biggest at the bottom...it will actually by bigger at the top! Without the dirt and dust of previous centuries Londoners are confronted with a mirror into which they themselves may indeed be perceived. I think that also says something about the generation which built the buildings, designed to give you what you want to see.

(88 Wood Street, note the lifts are on the outside! Thanks to urban75.org for image)


London of tomorrow? I wonder what that will be? I wonder what design constraints it will need to meet and what materials it will be built from? Flood proofed perhaps?




I hope you have enjoyed what was potentially my most wordy blog yet! Well done if you got this far!
 I didn’t think of all these ideas myself, please find below a list of people who helped me:

Peter Ackroyd’s London: The Biography (I’m only 200 pages into the 850 page epic but I’m getting biceps on my biceps reading it on the way to work).
http://www.victorianweb.org/mt/theaters/pva234.html – Victorian Theatres in London

Tuesday 13 March 2012

Can We Talk About This - A review of Lloyd Newson's production


Any play that opens with the question, ‘Are you morally superior to the Taliban?’ (Martin Amis) was going to be controversial; but when that question is accompanied by a mirror that enables you to see your fellow audience and you are actually expected to answer the question, it is scandalous. Can We Talk About This? is the latest show I’ve seen at the National Theatre for a fiver!

 
(photo credit: Evening Standard)

Can We Talk About This? Is a piece conceived by Lloyd Newson and his equally controversial dance troop DV8. In the past Newson has thought about many other taboos, but this time he turns his eye to ‘Multiculturalism’. Through the mediums of dance and speech Newson challenges the audience to think about their definitions of terms like ‘freedom of speech’ and ‘racism’. It asks how far cultures should be allow to be independent of the state in which they live, and how much impact they should have on surrounding communities. It asks whose opinion matters, who is being heard and who is being silenced. It was really thought-provoking.

Newson wisely did not use his own words to discuss this sensitive issue; instead every word of the play is quoted verbatim from real people. His sources were varied including: Ishtiaq Ahmed Ex-General Secretary of the Bradford Council of Mosques), Roy Brown (International Humanitarian and Ethical Union at the UN), Ann Cryer (a former Labour MP) and Adnan Rashid (Senior Researcher at Hittin Institute). The sources represented differed age groups, job roles and creeds. The argument was two-sided; yes the behaviour of some Muslims was criticised, particularly in relation to the Theo van Gogh case and the threats to Hasan for his comments about evolution. But it is not just the minority ethnicities that are criticised. The case of Philip Bamforth, removed from his position as a ‘Vunerable Persons Officer’, due to pressure from local council because his story was ‘bad press’ for Bradford’s regeneration was told. So was that of Mizanur Rahman, sentenced for 6 years for holding a placard during the Rushtie Protests. There is at least an attempt to present a balanced view.

I do, however, have two criticisms of the play. One, although seeking to tell both sides of the story, the play was noticeably one sided, there were far more criticisms of outsiders than iniders. More importantly for a play ostensibly about ‘Multiculturalism’ its main complaint seemed to relate to people with Muslim beliefs. This complaint was also mentioned in Jury et al.'s review (read here). As such you might argue that the protest, when a man threw a missile at the stage and shouted, ‘This is Islamophobic crap’, was quite a legitimate criticism. Overall though, the play was challenging and has got me thinking about everything from power and the freedom of speech to law and society.

What really impressed me about the show was that a group of dancers got me thinking about law; that’s quite a jump I think you’ll agree. Where the quotes from sources provided a series of thought- provoking monologues and dialogues, the movement complemented it and kept it interesting. I particularly enjoyed the Anne Cryer scene where the dancer playing Cryer moved about the stage, teacup in hand and was manipulated by her ‘chair’. Similarly the portrayal of the baying masses as wobbly dancers who hop from foot to foot, provided some comedy in the midst of all the gravity. Every time a new case was discussed it was written on the back wall in charcoal. I liked this effect because it was like all the evidence was literally building up in front of you. The writing was literally, ‘on the wall’.

There was a noticeable lack of laughter during this performance. The shock was palpable, people gasped at Newson’s sheer balls, to be breaking taboos left right and centre. Whether that is bravery or stupidity depends I suppose on your perspective.

This show will make shockwaves, even if ‘Even the darkest sections are beautiful’ (Bishop), I wonder whether the show will make the end of its run (28th March). I think people will be offended, but then maybe that’s the price of free-speech? (I told you the show was thought-provoking). Maybe we need to be having these conversations in theatre because in daily life, No I Don’t Think We Can Talk About This! It is too inflammatory, too personal a subject matter.

Can We Talk About This? Stunning choreography meets challenging material in a way that can only be called unique, see it if you can if only so we can have an interesting conversation.

Tuesday 6 March 2012

Joy in People: Jeremy Deller


I have recently been developing an obsession with the Southbank. Last week I went twice, once to see Comedy of Errors, starring Lenny Henry, review to follow – we saw it for a fiver! - and once to see Jeremy Deller’s exhibition at the Hayward Gallery.


Jeremy Who?
Admittedly not a traditional artist of the high form I would forgive you for not knowing the name. I first encountered Deller whilst working on a piece for my MA on the archaeology of sites of former protest. I was really fascinated by the ‘Battle of Orgreave’, so much so I jumped on a train to look at the site, got into all sorts of scrapes and met nice northern ladies in bun shops.

Anyway, Deller was also pulled into the orbit of Orgreave and produced a re-enactment of the battle, with former miners playing policemen and former policemen playing miners.  ‘Its going to take more than an art project to heal wounds. But was definitely about confronting something; to look at it again and discuss it’. I thought this sounded like a man I could get on with and when his name appeared on the Hayward list I paid it a visit.

‘To look at it again and discuss it’
This is the thread that runs through all of Deller’s work. The Joy in People exhibition included some of his earliest works (illicitly exhibited originally in his bedroom whilst his parents were on holiday), to It is what it is (2009), a discussion on terrorism and UK involvement in Iraq. He looks at the domestic proximity of cafes (2009) and bedrooms (1993) to big open landscapes , Exodus and Beyond the Walls (both 2012). Working with a number of mediums; including paper, photography, music, film and in fact people, Deller provokes discussion on a number of issues from war and peace, Britain’s heritage, to ageism and the plight of a transvestite wrestler.


His methods are arresting. 
They take you by surprise and they encourage discussion. 
Only Deller would build a life-size operational 1970’s style cafe for a carnival float; and encourage visitors to sit, drink tea together and contemplate what is worth saving, and protesting about.


By the people for the people
Deller uses a number of actors to people his exhibitions. One part of the gallery was a big black wall with ‘I <3 Melancholia’ written on the wall and a youth dressed in black just sat reading for hours. The people in Deller’s exhibitions often don’t say much, or directly interact with you. Rather they are there as sign posts and discussion points. I must say I totally missed the real person who had experienced war-torn Iraq sat in ‘It is What it Is’. In sum, ‘Deller makes art by the people for the people –and it is often fun and uplifting as a result’ (Sooke).


Common-Culture
I went to visit this exhibition with a dear friend who ‘appreciates art’. I think going on my own to this exhibition would have been an altogether different experience; the discussion would have been decidedly one-way. In its ability to provoke discussion Deller’s work is communal and it encourages community cohesion. At another level this is ‘common-culture’ in that it makes art from the common every-day world. I think it has taken me quite some time to see Deller’s work as ‘art’; a few years ago I would not have recognised scruffy t-shirts and quirky placards as art. I credit my MA, Dan Curtis, Elle McAllister and Caz Challis as well as the numerous artists at TAP for teaching me that ‘art’ doesn’t have to be ‘pretty’.

I loved this exhibition so much so I bought the pinbadge. Its on til 13th May and is a steal at only £10. It truly celebrates ‘Joy in People’.