The Two Towers - Birmingham 1994

With Tolkien's Legacy back firmly in the public eye with the premier of The Hobbit - An Unexpected Journey in New Zealand this week, it seems appropriate to share a connection related to the landmarks that inspired some of the imagery that makes the story so compelling.

6AM, the water is still at Edgbaston Reservoir, not that it should have been anywhere else but it is still, like a millpond. The willows that surround the reservoir are reaching like fingers over the reed beds, coots and moorhens swim in between the rushes, whilst ducks and geese are still asleep, that is until my crew and I take to the water in a Janousek racing 4... A warm up row towards the dam then turn, and a racing start, blades dig-in hard and we get moving with a thunk-slide-thunk as the rhythm picks up and there is a bubbling hiss as the boat gathers speed, 700 metres down the course and we run out of water and slow down after the burn. A brief recovery before turning about to repeat the exercise, and a brief chance to scan the horizon.

Tolkien’s two towers are silhouetted against the shifting gold and blue of the dawn sky not Orthanc and Barad Dur, but the Waterworks Tower and Perrott’s Folly, said to be the inspiration for the second book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. A bit of research reveals that when Perrott’s folly was built in 1758 it was set in open parkland  and is now surrounded by not industry but homes and businesses that have grown up as a result of industrialisation and not too dissimilar from Orthanc at Isengard in that respect. The Waterworks tower is an elaborate chimney of a pumping station that was built to supply the city with water and would likely have been pumping out smoke to blacken the sky during Tolkien’s childhood, so could well have been  visualised as Barad Dur.

Another course and recovery and the sun begins to rise into the sky emerging from the left side of the cluster of towers that is the city centre. Perfectly reflected in the mirror like surface of the water, glinting in the mirror glass of the Hyatt Hotel, silhouetting the white concrete Alpha Tower that define the end of Broad Street. The slender BT tower appears the tallest with a s succession of residential towers and office blocks towers marching down the hill towards the Rotunda, strangely seeming to be the shortest from this vantage point. The city, so peaceful from this distance gradually awakens as we put in more laps. The boat is lifted out of the water, hosed and wiped down, returned to its rack in the boathouse. A quick run around the reservoir to warm down after the rowing, the path meanders its way through the trees of Rotton Park, past the sailing club and up onto the wall. A view down to the turn in the canal that is fed by the reservoir and the steadily increasing traffic on the Icknield Port Road. A golden spire, a stupa at the end of the wall marks a Buddhist Temple. A turn back beneath the Tower Ballroom towards the boathouse, the surface of the water takes on the ripple of a steady breeze as the day gets underway. Walking back towards the two towers the aroma of bacon and eggs fills the air issuing from the Reservoir cafe. Good morning Birmingham!

Beneath the concrete...Birmingham 1993.

Taking the canal towpath East towards the city centre, a different city presents itself as I ride slowly along the water’s edge under the bridges leading to the NIA, ‘new ‘ housing circa 1980s mimicking 1880s faces onto the canal on one side whilst the original canal side warehouses stand crumbling under the onslaught of British winters, neglect and industrial decline. To the right the canal opens up to become Cambrian Wharf, immaculately kept houseboats moored against the quayside with a crane at one end and the Flapper and Firkin, a good venue for live music, student nights and ‘Dogbolter’ at the other. The whole scene standing against a backdrop of ‘60s residential towers in parkland and mature trees. Passing beneath Farmers’ bridge carrying Summer Row the canal descends beneath the city in a series of locks, cycling becomes a lot slower as the worn brick cobbles that provide grip when ascending make for a bumpy descent. A burned out warehouse dominates the right hand side of the canal, rusting cast iron beams, fading green paintwork, blackened timbers and the ever present dark brickwork bursting with plant life and pigeons. At the head of another drop this time beneath Fleet Street is Birmingham’s Science Museum, a glimpse through the dusty windows reveals a huge steam locomotive, one of Sir William Stanier’s beasts that led the LMS’s quest for speed in the 1930s looking every bit like Rodney Matthews’ ‘Heavy Metal Hero’ in its close surroundings although I guess its fire went out long ago.

A forest of concrete columns sprout up from the canal bank and from the water of the pound next to the lock to support an office block that sits over the canal. On the opposite side the base of the BT tower, an elegant landmark when viewed from afar meets the ground amongst a scrum of grey transit vans in a secure compound behind steel fences. From one dark space to another, brick walls line the canal side, as the descent continues, a cavernous space opens up beneath Snow Hill where a mainly derelict railway spans the canal. In the damp world below pigeons dominate, roosting on every ledge that is available. It is easy to see where Tolkien found the inspiration for Isengard in Lord of the Rings. A longboat chugs its way between locks making the climb into Birmingham with glum faces on the fifty-somethings experiencing the less picturesque side of a relaxing canal boat holiday....’More canals than Venice’??? I guess quantity is not everything.

As daylight permeates the gloom and sky becomes visible again, the cinder track is smooth and cycling becomes easier. A metallic tang fills the air as machine shops are busy producing nuts, bolts and washers and the ride moves from city centre to what remains of the industrial heartland. Trees begin to appear on the right side as the canal widens out at Aston Junction, and the canal enters a more recently developed area, Aston Science Park, decaying brickwork gives way to steel, glass and aluminium composite panels set among trees as 1980s industrial architecture takes a hold. In the background the vast brick building that is Aston University with its ‘Eiffel tower’ communications mast. Brick cobbles, cast iron plates, deeply scored by years of tow cables line the entrance to Ashtead tunnel, a narrow track and another cyclist waits patiently at the other end. Out into daylight and more canal pounds lined by old brick buildings, some occupied, some vacant some crumbling, a flash of blue as a kingfisher darts across the water. A turn in the canal and what a tangle of viaducts! The railways that link Birmingham to the rest of the country converge at different levels as trains wait to enter New Street Station. At the bottom of the pile a very grand stone bridge that carries a line to a cement works. With a brick bridge built on top of it. The Cement works all that remains of the entrance to the original station at Curzon Street that was the first route linking London. The Greek temple like structure that was the original ticket hall now standing as a monument surrounded by tin sheds. In the distance a gantry crane works relentlessly unloading shipping containers from the trains onto trucks to carry the cargo for the final leg of its journey.

Proof house junction, an elaborate building known as the Proof House and centre piece of the ‘gun quarter’ looks out across the canal to a scrap yard where cars are crushed into cubes and stacked awaiting disposal. Under the bridge carrying Fazeley Street and into Typhoo Wharf, overgrown with weeds and feeling distinctly forgotten about, as blue tin sheds turn their back on the waterfront. A quick u-turn and a ride along the Grand Union Canal towards Solihull, warehouses line the right side and the scrap yard to the left gives way to another junction completely walled in by brick buildings.

A few miles past more scrap yards, industry, gas holders, St Andrews football ground sitting at the top of the hill. The canal meets the Gravelly Hill Interchange better known as ‘Spaghetti Junction’ the whole evolution of Birmingham can be seen in one spot. The River Tame, being bridged over by the canal network where the Bordesley Branch canal meets the Fazeley Canal and the Tame Valley Canal, with all the associated locks bridges, toll houses needed to make the canal network operate. The Local roads of Gravelly Hill, Nechells and Witton converge at Gravelly Hill Circus. The M6 and the A38M meet on concrete legs high above, with feeder roads linking from all directions, whilst the railway threads its way through the middle. A lake surrounded by trees and green spaces sits alongside the canal at Salford Park giving a small impression of what life may have been like before the onset of industrialisation.

Beyond the Concrete Jungle...Birmingham 1993

Heading West from the Rotunda the traffic gives way to a completely pedestrianised street, New Street. New terracotta block paving and trees in cast iron gratings define a new urban space, mime artists draw the crowds, while a pavement artist draws...Well very large pastel drawings, very good ones. At the top end of New Street the pristine fountain with cascading water and bronze statue known as the ‘Floozy in the Jacuzzi’ as the rush and gurgle of the water and the chiming of a bell announcing the hour sets a very different scene to that of the rush of the traffic at the bottom of New Street where it meets the Bull Ring, this feels like a city centre. Steps climb up to Victoria Square giant stone balls define the southern edge of the and the newly restored Council House, not a council house but the offices and chambers of the City Council. Anthony Gormley’s Iron Man sculpture stands at a jaunty angle against the backdrop of the Neo-Greek temple that is Birmingham Town Hall. Queen Victoria stands proudly on her podium in not quite the centre on the square which is actually well almost square. Heading onward between the Council House and Town Hall another urban space reveals itself, Chamberlain Square, which is more of an amphitheatre with the Joseph Chamberlain Memorial as its centrepiece. A miniature Gothic tower in white stone in set in a fountain. Winding up the ramp that cuts through the steps of the amphitheatre with freshers sitting amongst the statues taking their new surroundings. The building that accommodates the Council House also houses the Museum and art gallery which fronts onto Chamberlain, a venetian bridge leaps across Edmund Street to the Gas Hall. At the top of the ramp the pedestrian route disappears beneath the fantastic concrete sculpture, a kind of inverted ziggurat that is the Birmingham Central Library. McDonalds defines the entrance to the Paradise Forum, a kind of plastic stage set that continues the neoclassical flavour of the civic spaces outside. McDonalds is joined by Baskin and Robbins Ice cream parlour along with a Fish and Chips restaurant, along with other shopping centre favourites like Tie Rack, and lots of people. A Glance upward and colourful sails hang down from the steel and glass roof light that caps off the courtyard to the Library.

Continuing westward through a giant revolving door two patent glazed book ends define the route through to Centenary Square, passing by the Grapevine a wine bar that tucks in under the library. Flower beds line the street when passing through between the bookends and if you were not looking for it you could pass by unaware of the ring road passing below. Centenary Square, a long rectangular space with Civic Centre and Birmingham Repertory Theatre on the right, Alpha Tower an elegant white angular tower sitting above the Central Television studios. A splash of colour as an Indian wedding party emerge from the registry office to pose for photographs. At the far end  a mirrored glass tower, the Hyatt Hotel with faded blue steel structure spanning across Broad Street to connect with the giant white stone and mirrored glass of the International Convention Centre, (ICC) the flow of people walking west heads into the ICC, below the blue steel and glass canopy the red block paving gives way to polished granite and fig trees in an internal street that connects the Symphony Hall with the numerous halls of the convention centre linked with bridges and escalators.

Steps and ramps thread their way down to a plaza that stops at the waters edge, well actually it is the canal. In the centre of the Plaza a green cloud like sculpture is drawing the attention of many students as they are walking between the two halves of the cloud which are like copper moulds, taking photographs, trying to figure out what it means. park benches line the canal side, and some of my fellow students are sitting on them looking at the other side. A Victorian brick building the Oozells Street School is perched on the top of a shear wall of mud, whilst excavators continue taking away more of it. In the distance the National Indoor Arena (NIA) home of the TV show Gladiators. A walk along the canal towpath towards the NIA, a tall curving brick wall with the Brewmaster’s house sitting on top, a grey and white arch a kind of hornby railways bridge spans the canal to connect with the mud bank. Passing beneath the bridge, the mud bank gives way to green, a lush green mound of grass and clover behind a brick and stone wall with blue steel fence and light poles giving a seaside feel to the place. Derelict industrial buildings line the canal side heading towards the ICC along with original canal bridges and traffic island where the Birmingham and Fazeley Canal meets the Birmingham Canal Navigations. Red brick and render apartments occupy a triangular plot between two canals trying to give the area a feel of Amsterdam. Standing on the green mound old and new meet at the edges, shiny glass against blackened brick with weeds growing out of the parapets, canada geese occupy the green taking advantage of a landing spot before the development of Brindleyplace gets underway. 

Reasons to be optimistic.

Continuing with the Olympic flavour of my recent blogs, and my recent visit to the park, well the fence outside the park and the viewing gallery in John Lewis’. I have been watching for signs of what is going to happen next. Three sporting events that I know about on the back of London hosting the 2012 games are: Rowing World Championships at Eton Dorney in 2013, World Athletics Championships at Stratford in 2014 and the Rugby World Cup in 2015, probably centred on Twickenham, but the Olympic Stadium is listed as a potential venue, exciting times ahead. I have been watching a series of documentaries by the Landscape Institute who are holding up what is now known as the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park as an exemplar of what can be achieved in terms of sustainable design and when environmental impact is leading as opposed to cost cutting and so they should! This should set the benchmark for masterplanning of large projects in the future, and demonstrates what can be achieved when designers take the lead.

This has also been a big week on the world stage, America have voted Barrack Obama in for a second term, which in my view was the only sensible decision, although like others I was worried for a while. Watching the news from a vantage point in the Middle East during the campaign it was obvious that Obama has earned the respect of the global community. What I found significant in the result is the demographics, and people in the media talking in terms of two Americas: states with the main cities and industrial areas voted Obama whilst the deep south voted Romney and it is no secret that the most diverse populations live in the cities. In terms of architecture with the trend towards growing cities becoming more dense and diverse in the future the notion of looking after the wealthy i.e: Corporate America is no longer valid, just my view that is all.

In Saudi Arabia, a royal degree has been published to commit to moving away from powering the Kingdom on fossil fuels, investing heavily in solar power, there is no set time frame but I am interested to see how it develops. In contrast there is more news from Amazonwatch, who are following the story of the indigenous populations that will be displaced if the Belo Monte Dam project goes ahead, in addition this involves clearing vast areas of rainforest that the planet needs to continue convert carbon dioxide into oxygen, which raises a question for me, is hydro electric power sustainable? In this context it is a resounding no! There are far more effective ways to generate power, in-stream turbines, wind, solar...energy wastage in cities is a huge contributor to the need for more power. As architects we do not have all the answers, but we are very good at assembling the best teams of experts so that we can find them, it just needs clients, corporations and governments to trust us, I guess that is the tricky bit. Just to finish on the Olympic thread, with Rio host city for 2016 the eyes of the world are on them, and the time to make the right decision is now.

Into the Concrete Jungle...Birmingham 1993

With the reorganisation of Birmingham New Street Station well underway and in the press this week, it seems the 'modernist' centre of Birmingham that earned the name 'Concrete Jungle' has ceased to be, leaving only a few fragments of Manzoni's masterplan. I first came to Birmingham in 1993 to start my journey in Architecture, and what a city to choose, it became home for the next 17 years! The city was already undergoing massive transformation following the unsuccessful bid to host the 1992 Olympics had put Birmingham on the map long enough to demonstrate the potential of Britain's second city to host international events. This blog is written from some of my first impressions of the city centre around the Bull Ring, describing a city that now no longer exists.

Starting out at the base of the Rotunda, formerly known as the Coca Cola building, its graphic in huge red letters at the top of the 22 storey black and white striped cylinder as seen on postcards from the 1980's. At street level, Lloyd’s Bank in green letters along the top of the white podium, vertical slots march their way along the podium above an array of cash points and disorderly queues of people waiting to get their money out of the hole in the wall, the aroma of fried chicken and KFC wrappers lay in corners on the ground like some snow drift as deposited by the wind. The door into the bank which takes you up to the banking hall after a ride on an escalator, the vertical slots direct natural daylight onto the most amazing abstract concrete relief sculpture reminiscent of cubist painting meets Mayan sculpture, which floats above the counters. From the calm of the banking hall the harsh light and the city in its gritty form, the interface between fragments: the chink of classes and the intermittent sound of raised voices from Bar St Martin, litter on the steps taking you down into the network of pedestrian subways, dark blue and silver double-decker buses groaning their way through the traffic overhead, murals on the subway walls showing 'The Shambles' at the centre of another city called the Bull Ring, red and beige ceramic tiles, blackened paving slabs, Argos in the underpass between the Rotunda and the Bull Ring Centre. The busker playing Rod Stewart songs on the acoustic guitar, with shaggy bleached hair to complete the illusion. The overly large woman in a news stand belting out ‘get you mail’  sounding much more like a beached whale. The tramp walking around with his possessions in a carrier bag, wanting his photo taken to put in my project. The blackened spire of St Martin’s church, the remaining fragment of the old Bull Ring in the mural. Framed by the large concrete slab with large red plastic letters that reads ‘Bull Ring Centre’ and the abstract representation of a fighting bull on one side and the sheer face of the Nationwide Building Society on the other.

The journey to find the spire of St Martin's is beneath the moving wall of blue and silver past the Argos in the underpass, the bookmaker, who does not actually make books but takes bets from punters standing in the doorway watching the racing on TV. A glimpse of sky and green, a flower seller outside a glass door and the entrance to the Bull Ring Shopping Centre. The green belongs to Manzoni Gardens, rows of empty benches empty lawns, London plane trees are clustered around the outside of a walled garden The Rotunda stands proudly above the scene giving all the impression that it is set in the green landscape.

The shopping centre frames the garden with its rhythmic panels of concrete set against dark brick majestically marching off towards Smallbrook Queensway, on the Inner Ring Road. A gap in the tree belt, a multi coloured mosaic adorns the side of the wall that holds up the blue and silver stream of steel and exhaust threading its way through pathways between cars, cars, and more cars. A white wing of the shopping centre reaches into the garden from the main block like an armature forming a backdrop with picture windows displaying cut price womens’ clothing under the plastic lettering that reads Mark One Fashions. No sign of the spire from the garden which is completely walled in with the only way out being though the small gap next to the flower seller. Into the darkness where the flower seller is calling out his prices: two bunches for a pound, dim flickering flourescent lights give the place a wintry gloom, a short walk past shops selling cheap looking plastic goods, and bursting out into the daylight, a sea of heads with green and red canopies popping up at regular intervals, the aroma of cheese, mixed with frying fish and chips hangs in the air, a surging mass of people carries you down a long ramp with the calls of market traders emanating from beneath the canopies, the black spire is visible from behind more dark blue and silver continuing the ever present stream of traffic moving on top of the wall at the bottom of the ramp.

A gap in the wall, a tunnel beneath the traffic, the wares change from brightly coloured polished apples to brightly coloured garments on hangers, the black spire belongs to a black base, with arched windows, tracery, steel barriers, gates, trees, litter, and a door that takes you through to a different world, an empty world, gone are the sounds of traffic, sights of blue and silver replaced by pink and yellow as light streams in through stained glass, figures are picked out in the windows, in the stone depicting stories from a different city, a different time, words carved in stone telling of the founding of a different town called Birmingham.

Post Olympic Blues? London 2012

October 2012, first visit to London following the Olympics. When I was last in London it was June and very much a city in anticipation, riding on the tube, the maps had all been updated with purple zones identifying the venues for the games, the O2 had been renamed North Greenwich Arena and around Royal Victoria Dock the sense of anticipation was palpable as the commissioning and testing of the cable car, The Emirates Air Line was under way, the Crystal was nearing completion and the security fences started appearing around the Excel Centre. Over at Stratford, the view across the park seen from the viewing gallery in John Lewis' revealed the Olympic Stadium, Orbit and Aquatics Centre ready and waiting. Throughout the country the torch relay is underway and the media seem to have stopped criticising for a while and actually getting behind people enjoying the moment.

During the games I was in Bahrain, tuning into BBC World news, watching the sun rise over the park each morning, and catching up on events later in the day or following on the live feed on the internet. The view across the park was stunning, and the view beyond over what was the most industrialised part of London revealed a city looking distinctly green, not talking about wind turbines on the skyline although there are a few, but with all the trees in full leaf and the green spaces that have been created. The coverage on the BBC revealed London as a city that was absolutely buzzing with Olympic fever, with the exception of shop and restaurant owners moaning about parts of the city being like a ghost town, and a few occasions where local transport services were compromised for locals as operators were in event mode. The whole world witnessed the 'Greatest show on Earth' with the opening ceremony and events that took place in parts of London that the world has not noticed before, and for sixteen days London was the centre of the universe, and as Brits we could be proud of our nation once again.

A visit to Stratford reveals a city that is still buzzing, on arrival at the transport interchange, and onto the huge pedestrian bridge that spans the railway station below, the bridge is well populated and the air filled with excited chatter. The bridge leads to a 'street' that runs through the Westfield Shopping Centre, lined with designer shops, sports shops and restaurants to define the route to the Park. The park, is a construction site once again, I had thought that it would be possible to walk around the park, or at least the parts that did not involve disassembling of temporary structures, but sadly the whole park is cordoned off, with gates that say 'Authorised Personnel Only' and patrolled by an army of hi-vis jackets and JCB diggers. Behind the fences a new street is emerging with bus stops, benches, trees creating an arrival zone to visit the park when it does reopen. A quick chat with a security guard reveals a slightly different view, it's all closed for 'demolition...will take two to three years'. Good for employment, I guess not everybody got the message about temporary structures, I had heard that many of them will be packaged up and transported to Rio for 2016, I understand that there is a lot of negotiation under way to make that happen. I just hope that is does.  In terms of Architecture this process echoes Peter Cook's work with Archigram in the 1960's, with Sir Peter on the team it should stand a good chance.

Returning to London and reading the local press, it seems that the media are back on the hunt for white elephants, last week's target being the Emirates Air Line the new cable car, running at 10% capacity is the claim. My first ride was during the week, alighting on the North Greenwich side, there is steady trickle of people making the walk from the O2, very few cabins are running empty with some completely full. As the cable car makes its gentle journey across the Thames people wave from passing cabins with happy and smiling faces, you never get that on the tube.

The ride itself gives some impressive views on East London, Olympic Park to the North, the Thames Barrier to the East, to the West, the an uninterrupted view of the Dome, with an army of ants trekking over the newest visitor attraction, 'the Skywalk'. a climb to an observation deck at the top and 30 degree descent to the other side a journey taking two hours. in the background the towers of Canary Wharf, with the Shard, Gherkin and the City beyond. The ride takes five minutes, and gives a sense of how far London has progressed at the same time as revealing the enormity of the task ahead. A giant hole in the ground and cluster of cranes and tunnel section demonstrate work in progress on Crossrail, probably London's greatest infrastructure project linking up all the nodes that will allow you to travel from Canary Wharf to Heathrow on 39 minutes without having to lug suitcases from DLR to tube, change on tube, to Paddington to board the Heathrow Express taking anything up to two hours. Probably hugely expensive and undervalued.  Over west Silvertown Way and the DLR line, the Tate and Lyle factory to the East and over the vast Royal Docks with the Excel Centre and City Airport and descent over the new gardens to the 'Crystal' an Exhibition showcasing future cities and how we can be sustainable, into the corner of the dock. It is easy to see how this formed a vital lifeline during the games linking all the gymnastic events.

Having observed the cable car running over two weeks it is particularly busy at weekends, there are corporate events at the Crystal bringing large numbers of visitors to the dock, interested visitors taking photographs of everything, from cranes to buildings and the new gardens, to wake boarders playing on the dock. The RNLI demonstrate how they conduct sea rescues as part of an emergency services exhibition at the Excel. It seems that the combination of the Crystal and Air Line have injected life into the dock that will grow over time. The cable car must have cost a fraction of the equivalent length of the Jubilee Line extension and likewise the Crossrail link that is underway, it is difficult to see why the media are being so negative.

The North Greenwich Arena has become the O2 again. Sitting in one of the many restaurants inside the vast Dome presents a good opportunity to reflect on the legacy of hosting great events, the Millennium experience is a distant memory, the Olympics has been and gone and a steady flow of people arrive to see the dome each day, whether attending an event, climbing over the top or just to go for some food or a drink. The lesson here? These things take time, legacy projects need time to mature and for interest to grow, Stratford has already been revitalised, there is significant regeneration of the town centre, rehabilitation of the Lea Valley and major transport improvements that enabled the hosting of the Olympics that are a very real legacy for generations to come, and for my daughter and her friends a major event that they will remember in a positive sense, for them the British flag is not called the 'Union Jack' it is called 'Team GB'. Post Olympic Blues? Not a chance.