the perils of pessimism: or how to alienate friends and never influence anything...

iceland - soaring mountains, rugged terrain, study villages and of course the endless snow...

returning from iceland and the edifying jolt of the geography and terrain, the pragmatic hardiness of the people and the inspiring diy yet sophisticated cultural life they have made in that surreal physical and metaphorical landscape has resulted in what might be regarded by some as an epiphany.

descending from the mountains into seydisfjordur...magical!

apartment, the nerve centre of my residency and spiritual haven, the ideas lab and backdrop to my ramblings and ruminating these past few months, is where my theories are tested and my assumptions challenged.

meeting today to catch up with paul and hilary for the first time since the reykjavik artfest was notable for another in an increasing series of disturbing revelations about the deep core of my pessimism and somewhat jaundiced eye. the resultant stifling effect is a far cry from the 'curious eye' of irit rogoff or the 'archaeological imagination' of michael shanks, my cross disciplinary gurus...a troubling impediment to any really effective investigations of the city or contemporary cultural landscape!

its a constant and uphill battle to overcome this knee jerk 'glass half empty' attitude. whilst not wishing to become a pollyanna figure (sorry paul!) with galloping enthusiasm for anything and everything (that would be both ridiculous and ungainly at my great age!!), my natural inclination to pour scorn on the new or inability to consider recurrent quandaries with an open mind is the greatest enemy of the radical thinker, situationist or flaneur.

to illustrate - my journey home was marked with an excitable inner dialogue filled with the wonders and charms of iceland and the lovely friends made there, reams of illegible scribblings in my notebook, followed by increasingly unflattering comparisons to my home town, its rampant consumerism and cultural redundancy. and by the time i had downloaded images on to my facebook page my slump into lazy invective against the metropolis was complete.

my favourite boat in iceland...

by contrast, for paul the journey back was a smooth dreamy glow of triumphant exhaustion, followed by an unexpected tour of the city from unfamiliar perspectives afforded by a wrong bus or two and the idle imagining of what our icelandic friends might make of a visit to manchester. from these new vantagepoints he rediscovered his city remembering much that is exciting and endearing about it and determined to engage more with the bits he neglects to explore or simply takes for granted.

looking with a curious eye or unusual gaze must be at the very heart of the urbanist or cultural critic and i have, as always, much to learn from the energy, enthusiasm and playfulness that is central to apartment's artistic and curatorial practice.

practical vernacular architecture - survival huts at regular intervals are a life saver in the long frozen winters

over the summer months i shall be busy preparing for 'killing castlefield', my emerging response to artranspennine08, and an evening at apartment, celebrating the completion of my residency with the launch of the feral flaneur pamphlet or 'radical ramblings from the edge of the city', and pigeon house press, publisher of 'the bluestocking guides...' to life, art and everything in between.

the motto and esprit de corps for these humble outpourings will be the cheeky, ubiquitous feral pigeon, perhaps the ultimate symbol of modern life and how to survive it – the much maligned rat with wings, loathed and demonised by city strategists but cherished and appreciated by an eccentric and motley crew of potting sheds potterers, allotment dwellers, bird racers and fanciers; a ragged assortment of humanity, the ultimate practitioners of the everyday, the epitome of the curious eye and de certeau's resistance to the impositions laid down by the planners...

the feral pigeon symbol of the city...

with this little emblem as my guide i shall endeavour to focus my gaze in the true spirit of the flaneuse and bluestocking with open mindedness and optimism, with an eye out for unearthing the unusual, the off-the-beaten-track, the audacious networks of people busy creating something out of their world and giving the city its depth and vigour, its real heart and beauty. as de certeau pointed out, it is always people that make the city, people and their activities that give the city its soul and character.

if my visit to iceland has taught me anything it is about the richness of experience forged out of isolation, frequent solitude and necessity. there is always something going on. my task in this busy metropolis must be to delve deep, both into the streets and into myself, leave my world-weary prejudices and lazy assumptions behind to discover, delight and document the city in all its situationist glory….imagine and reimagine the city as others see it, as others live and experience it .

they start their careers early in iceland!

....well they do say travel broadens the mind!

letter from iceland

postal pannier transporting my diaries at the gesthus

hello from iceland - egilsstadir, east of iceland to be precise, where i have joined my young friends paul harfleet and maureen ward on an epic adventure of art, life and nature.

iceland is majestic, bleak and visceral. emerging from its long frozen winter, the contrasts between the signs of spring and new life, the endless migrating birds passing through the vast horizon, the snowy peaks of sparkly black volcanic outcrops surrounding our snug little guesthouse on the edge of the lake, are breathtaking and disorientating in equal measure. this is no picturesque landscape, no chocolate box prettiness, but a gut wrenching, heart ripping, elemental force of nature, a ferocious and intimidating beauty.

the flight out of the capital across the interior of the country brings home the brutality of this new country - forged from volcanic activity, it seems as though the land has erupted out of the red hot laval underbelly of the earth and is still on the move. everywhere is swirling mud flats or plains, black glittery slagheaps of mountains or vast untidy fields of giant rocks as if pickaxed by mythical armies of trolls or hurled about by a furious thor. all this and the fierce blinding white of months of winter snow and a tantalising topography of bluey-green veins of frozen fjords, glaciers and geysers....

the pansy project has been selected to exhibit at slaturhus cultural centre, as part of Journey, a joint venture of 3 art institutions in east iceland, part of the reykjavik art festival 2008, details of which can be seen on the following link; http://artipedia.org/artsnews/exhibitions/2008/02/10/reykjavik-arts-festival-new-series-of-visual-and-performing-arts-programs/

final preparations are in full swing this morning, with artists and curator rushing around putting finishing touches to the installations and preparing the centre for the onslaught of visitors, including the president of iceland and his glamorous wife, a well known art enthusiast and patron. its all a little surreal and everyone is feeling the strain now.

slatturhus is just that - a former slaughter house in this remote town on the other side of the island, a world away from reykjavik and its international reputation; its inclusion in the festival, like the east iceland section as a whole, apparently a little controversial, with the art world being specially flown in for the occasion. like the town, its is unromantic and utilitarian, practical and functional, a working town with a laconic nature, a wry and somewhat dark sense of humour. the slaughterhouse was only abandoned 5 years ago, and like its nearby farms and outbuildings is low rise, concrete and corrugated metal. there is no victorian melodrama about its atmosphere but a rather more matter of fact eeriness, an everyday sense of the business of death and the lingering stench of animal putrefaction still emanating from the drains on the floors, with meat hooks and sluicing pipes for cleaning away blood and shit very much in the eyeline.

events will take place here and also at nearby eidar and skaftfell, an old town in the deep fjord of seydisfjordur.

my cosy retreat by the lake...

for me this is an unmissable opportunity to see the first major exhibition of the pansy project in an international art festival; fulfillment of a long held desire to visit iceland; and the chance to delve into the inner recesses of the contemporary art scene.

i cant wait to embark on this artistic, geographical and emotional journey, 'a trip through the halls of surprises, a journey with the artists to their schools of thought, passing corners of their minds and chambers of their souls...'

...here i go.

revered and reviled: a tale of two towers

archaeology is often associated with the sacred, mysterious and wondrous; the grand and glamorous remnants of former civilisations, the tombs of the pharaohs, the perfectly preserved herculaneum and pompeii, the easter island stones and nearer to home the giant men and white horses carved in the chalk. popular books on archaeology are emblazoned with titles such as ‘mysterious’ or ‘marvellous’ not ‘ordinary' or 'everyday' things! the past we are told is another country and all too often it is portrayed as one totally unfamiliar and unusual, with rites and customs we can glimpse at but never really understand. yet any field archaeologist knows (and the average episode of time team will confirm) that the reality of digging is more often than not the ordinary, everyday, mundane objects of humans and their daily activities. the vernacular and the quotidian of yesterday can quickly become the unfathomable of today as any one wrestling with the enigma of the 400 carved stone balls of orkney or the meaning of stonehenge will tell you…

we inhabit a commodified mercantile world where the expensive, unique, unusual and glamorous is our stock in trade and benchmark. no one is interested in the ordinary or the average and not even the humble toilet roll is allowed to be anything less than luxurious and pampering. we simply don’t deal with the ‘everyday’ as a concept because it doesn’t fit in with our ‘aspirational’ lifestyles. this crucial image problem makes it difficult to market the vernacular 20th century artefact as an iconic or historic relic of the future! who wants to save the tatty old cinema, 60’s office block, high rise tower block or cooling tower when it is perceived as unspectacular or even ugly and offensive?

perhaps it is because we are not yet successfully bedded into the 21st century – the noughties more of a transitional period simultaneously looking forward and back, the new era not sufficiently established for the necessary detachment when contemplating the last 100, even 1000 years.

here lies the key to the problem.

the ‘ruin’ is normally the end product of a long process of utility, abandonment, dereliction and neglect, eventually becoming numinous and forgotten, hazy and cobwebby, at once permanent and invisible in the landscape, its very prominence lending it a pseudo ‘natural’ status, like that of the trees, hills and location in which it nestles unobtrusively. finally the ‘ruin’ is rediscovered and with it the inevitable battle to demolish or defend it – to reintegrate it into society, make it useful and accessible, re-engage and acknowledge it as part of the built environment rather than its hitherto ‘natural’ subliminal one on the edges of our subconscious.

this process presents a real and urgent problem for the urban enthusiast or archaeologist of the contemporary, illustrated in the treatment meted out to two contrasting icons of their age – one medieval, the other modern but no less potent in the landscape. recent weeks have witnessed the culmination of years of dedicated efforts on two very similar projects but with spectacularly different results: triumph for one but crushing defeat for the other. at the heart of both tales is the nature of monumentality and cultural memory, urban dereliction and regeneration, and the precarious state of our 20th century architectural heritage: the most pressing issues of our times.


the soaring triumph at maastricht

the triumph is the tale of a disused church in the centre of maastricht, a dilapidated medieval architectural jewel lovingly transformed into an atmospheric and dramatic bookstore. the aesthetics are classic, reassuringly traditional and accessible, the regeneration proposal practical, functional and commercially sound – in keeping with the prevailing language of city redevelopment and urban planning. visually it is indeed a magnificent achievement; a positively glorious yet harmonious marriage of the building’s soaring austere spirituality and restoration into present day cathedral to learning and commerce – the bookstore as secular ‘sacred space’, vessel of cultural and intellectual heritage, scholarship, aspiration and great ideas. jonathan glancey picks up the story in the guardian:
http://books.guardian.co.uk/shoptalk/story/0,,2271953,00.html.

it certainly ticks all the right boxes – maastrict is an established tourist destination, beloved by the chattering classes, picture box perfect for the fashionable ‘urban nomads’ weekend away. everyone’s a winner, not least a beautiful building in peril rescued from the bulldozer, an exemplary and honourable solution to the increasing problem surrounding the rapid decline and crisis facing abandoned ecclesiastical buildings of often remarkable beauty and architectural merit. in stark contrast is our disaster story, a sorry end to an equally vigorous campaign to save an altogether different monument, but iconic nonetheless - a complicated tale packed with all the usual suspects, economic, social and industrial decline, urban dereliction, renewal and regeneration.

the stalwart and dedicated attempts by a dedicated pair of young sheffield urban enthusiasts has captured the public imagination and sparked both controversy and support. over the last three years, 2 1940s cooling towers, simple, austere, elegant, have become symbolic of the battle for the city's soul - between those determined to create a 21st-century gleaming metropolis and those intent on preserving and celebrating some of the city's industrial heritage. it's set out grippingly in the following link, which succinctly summarises the dramatic and inspiring tale from outlandish dream, a dream to turn the vast disused towers into a truly landmark art space - http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2008/apr/02/regeneration.communities

after years of campaigning a happy ending seemed secure when the towers were amongst the 6 winners of channel 4s big art project with funding and support assured from arts council england and the arts fund. within two days however e-on announced the towers unsafe and set a date for demolition. a subsequent campaign for a temporary artwork has similarly met with rejection. in a intriguing twist, sheffield city council has now accepted a large sum from e-on to commission a new public artwork on the site after demolition. as far as the city council is concerned this is a satisfactory solution, one that fits nicely with their new branded masterplan for a rebranded sheffield in the manchester and liverpool mould.


tinsley cooling towers

the cooling tower might seem an unlikely icon and hardly worthy of our attention or support. who in their right minds would be sorry to see the demolition of a couple of cooling towers on the steel manufacturing corridor between sheffield and rotherham, blot on the landscape, oppressive symbol of 20th century heavy industry, cliched symbol of the north, polluter of public health and the environment? not much to celebrate then nor an obvious candidate for iconic status to be saved and relished by the local or national consciousness, especially with the promise of a lovely shiny new artwork to soften the blow?



au contraire – iconic status cannot be conferred by committee or appeals to our sense of delicacy or good taste. monuments are created not made. the pyramids, the mayan temples, the coliseum, even the tower of London are each forged out of the misery, oppression and sacrifice of ordinary people but we continue to recognise and respond to their sheer physicality and politics of space.

art, architecture, ruination, regeneration, modernity, archaeology: this tale of two towers speaks volumes about the gulf between fate of 20th architectural classics and that of more cherished and respected eras such as the victorian and medieval and of aesthetics, nostalgia and the everyday.

all too often the fate of non sacred, non institutional vernacular buildings (and this isn’t necessarily limited to modernist or brutalist 60’s classics – we still criminally neglect to cherish what remains of the once ubiquitous deco cinema and music hall) is to be demolished despite campaigns of support. the ingenious and sensitive reworking of the maastricht church, symbol of the city’s history and heritage needs no justification whilst nearer to home a similar architectural and archaeological symbol of place, landscape and heritage is foolishly condemned to oblivion.
both have made the headlines in the broadsheets and cultural media but it seems that in the popular imagination only a few misguided modernists or 20th century zealots will be mourning the loss of an ugly industrial blot on the northern landscape.

in a sad and ironic footnote a two week sale of tinsley tower memorabilia, tea towels, mugs and postcards sold out in the first two hours. miniaturised, contained, useful and commodified, the towers have finally submitted to the ethos of our age...

in the words of the campaigners, 'they could have been a tate modern for the north, our own turbine hall. we could have done our temporary art project with Anish Kapoor. we could have changed the way people look at this city. and they didn't let us.'

read an update on the fate of the tinsley towers here: http://diaryofabluestocking.blogspot.com/2008/08/demise-of-tinsley-towers.html