Towers in the Park - Stratford 2014

Animated façades of apartment blocks, nine to ten storeys high, dominated by the interplay of balconies and recesses face out onto a green sward which is actually a wildflower meadow punctuated with a few trees, partly concealing the golden cheese grater façade of the car park and the concealed HS1 line that passes through Stratford International Station set below street level in a concrete channel. Moving up the road to Stratford International Railway station, a kind of understated entrance onto the direct high-speed link to Europe. The station sits on a quiet street, really part of the landscape, which is busy with pedestrians and quiet in terms of vehicular traffic. Punctuated with park benches facing into the meadows and the facades of the Apartment blocks. Behind very colourful site hoardings, and ‘Energy Saver’ portakabins, a new development emerges, named East Village boasting ‘Everyday Living’ and a ‘World Class School’ to compliment the former athletes village.

Large sculptures occupy the meadows depicting ground staff, the thousands of volunteers that made hosting the games possible. Wandering along the street and passing through the meadows with dense clusters of trees, cherry, oak, silver birch, and glimpses of the apartment blocks through the clearings give a sense of a young Central Park. Fine gravel footpaths, stone paving augmented with kerb level lighting, cycle stands and park benches, meandering paths through planted zones with water gardens create a desirable environment to live. Le Corbusier’s towers in the park done right perhaps? Signs within the park identify destinations not only in direction but in terms of walking time in minutes, giving a very real sense that everything is well connected and within easy reach. Cycle lanes are everywhere and are being used including a number of the Barclays bikes knows by locals as Boris Bikes after the current Mayor although there does not seem to be anywhere to procure one nearby.

Crossing a heavy looking concrete bridge carrying the road over HS1, and joining the road that is alive with the red London Bus and the cyclist and a few delivery vehicles, the street facing onto John Lewis is beginning to take on a sense of place as a zone of arrival at the entrance to the Park. Security fences mark areas where work is still in progress. The black and grey clouds make for a dramatic backdrop to the bright colours of the fairground that sits within a gated zone, temporary structures that make up rides, shooting galleries and candy floss stands evoke memories of summers on the English Riviera, where the travelling city would arrive and stay for a few days in a haze of dust and diesel exhaust as the vintage vehicles labour to keep the rides moving, the lights flashing and the music blaring. This one seems to be quiet though, gates locked and rides dormant, set to come alive in the afternoon.  

At the Park entrance, Hadid’s Aquatics Centre on Left, Populous’ Stadium directly ahead and a large fine gravel zone that is completely alive, cycles, scooters and numerous groups walking around and looking, people actually enjoying being in an urban space. The distinctive wave form of the aquatics centre, freed from the stadium seating that was installed for the Olympics, takes on a serene sculptural quality embedded in the very green landscape, very different from the pictures broadcast during the games.

Crossing the River Lea on passing the Aquatics Centre, the stadium still in the process of transition from games mode to post games mode in preparation for the Rugby World Cup 2015, an army of workers operating on scaffolding appear to be installing large box like structures onto the huge white steel truss that supported the tensile fabric canopy, the scaffolding on multiple levels, just emphasise how incredibly large the stadium is. The raw underside of the concrete terraces supported on black steel structure give an elegant simplicity that was previously concealed behind the ‘wrap’ that was so striking on the pictures from the games.

The plaza in front of the Stadium is animated with dancing water jets and a few very soggy children, who try to run between the jets and getting caught in them amongst squeals of excitement. Beyond, in a dense ring of trees is the ‘Orbit’ a red steel structure, resembling a combination between a 'Helter Skelter' and roller coaster, engineered by Cecil Balmond, a dramatic landmark when viewed from a distance, that seems to move and change as its aspect changes with the direction of approach. Standing almost beneath the observation platform and looking suddenly the whole whacky sculpture makes sense, the observation platform seems to be floating in air as its forces are distributed along the spiral as opposed to straight down which is the conventional fashion. A chance view of the skyline captured between the spiral and the stadium frames the towers of Canary Wharf and the length of the journey becomes apparent, who could imagine this view from standing on the railway sidings surrounded by industrial decay twenty years ago when Canary Wharf was a solitary tower seemingly uprooted from New York and divorced from its urban context? The entry pavilion to The Orbit white planes floating on a black base makes a very cool intervention into the park calmly contrasting with the drama behind.

A cycle expo and people riding every type of cycle in the shadow of the orbit, tandems, trikes, penny farthings, bikes with large child seats in a kind of two wheeled rickshaw and a curious four wheeled cycling contraption that seats six people as though around an oval table, all pedalling in unison. All around this part of the park, the skyline is dominated by towers, the distant landmarks of Canary Wharf, and the closer multi coloured glass clad apartment towers give a very real sense of a new city centre growing out of the industrial ruins.

Yellow Brick Road - Birmingham 2002

Following the yellow brick road, or more precisely yellow, green and purple strips that emerge from the top of three successive lamp posts outside the Navigation Street entrance to New Street Station, with the view straight up Pinold Street to Victoria Square, the strips lead off in another direction. Along Navigation Street, to the pelican crossing at Hill Street, past the listed concrete sculpture that is the New Street Station Signal box, past white painted site hoardings bearing enormous photos of John Rocha, the designer associated with the interior fit out of the concrete structure emerging behind the hoarding. Across the street, the red cage, a car park that is ‘clad’ in a red steel structure, that supports planters, like huge window boxes that are planted with climbers that grow all over the facade of the car park.

To another pelican crossing and across into a plaza formed beneath the flyover supporting Suffolk Street Queensway, soffit and legs painted white, illuminated by coloured hanging globes, the three strips that are very popular with children, walking along then as though balancing, arms spread wide, all the way to until they disappear up the lamp posts, here they lead the way to a cobbled street, where cars proceed very slowly to an ‘underground’ car park, the cobbled street gives way to a monumental flight of steps to a bright ‘pillar box’ red, facade bearing the name ‘The Mailbox’  Birmingham’s newest destination comprising a hotel, apartments, shopping and restaurants inserted into the former Royal Mail sorting office.

At the top of the steps, Harvey Nicholls frames the entrance with the store on both sides and bridging over the thoroughfare, which splits vertically, escalators up to the first floor a kind of gallery with black steel railings and varnished timber handrails, set into a colonnade formed of terracotta rain screen concealing the original concrete structure. looking up the levels above the colonnade are the balconies of the hotel rooms and apartments, open to the sky. A street has been cut out of the existing structure, at street level names associated with New York’s Fifth Avenue, such as DKNY and Ralph Lauren appear in minimalist retail units, lots of frameless glass, stone tiles, timber boarding and  immaculately arranged displays.

The concierge counter for the hotel stands just off the street, in a sort of open lobby. Brushed aluminium pavement cafe tables and serve to animate this artificial street, The Art Lounge a, coffee shop that is also a gallery and bookshop provides a focal point at the end of the street, and also uses vacant shopfronts as additional gallery, studios appear in others slotted in between designer shops, artists, sculptors working in plain view make for a vibrant environment. The street terminates with a flight of steps, augmented with lifts and escalators to take everybody to the upper level, to the BBC television studios, the pavement cafe’s continue in an environment where the shy is replaced with a white painted waffle grid. At the end, Salvage Wharf, part of the canal network, with resident barge, Ramada Hotel, bars and restaurants set amongst a block formed of red brick and grey metal panels, at its base the brick forms huge sloping buttresses and arches, a colonnade along the tow path. Continuing along the footpath formed of aluminium extrusions in a type of grating, galvanised balustrades, steel cables with stainless steel handrails and yacht fittings, make up the edge to the walkway, up ahead a dark brick cone, with glass canopy on steel structure, form ‘The Node’ a lift tower surrounded by spiral stair to get to the wharf side which is dominated by a fish restaurant, a very upmarket version of Ada’s Cafe, where instead of Spam, everything on the menu involves eating fish.

The canal makes a ninety degree turn by the node, heading off towards Worcester, lined both sides by derelict victorian warehouses, crossed by a typical  canal bridge, and trees beyond. The brick arch bridge, typical to many crossings of the canals in Birrmingham, cast iron plates along the tow path, heavily scored by years of running cables over them from the time when the barges were drawn along the canal by horses. On the Bridge parapet, two red panels, one above each end of the arch where it is at its thickest, to permit the Fire Brigade to extract water from the canal in case of emergency. The aluminium walkway, forms a bridge over the bend in the canal, and descends gently to arrive onto the towpath, here the one mile walking route continues, along the canal to Gas Street Basin, one side converted victorian buildings, form cafe, night club, on the opposite side 1980s dull brown brick buildings try to mimic their Victorian neighbours, arched windows, pitched roofs and dark colours try very hard and mainly unsuccessfully to blend in.

At Gas Street Basin, the James Brindley, more of the same mock Victoriana, with a glass barrel vault reminiscent of scaled down version of Paxton’s Crystal Palace, but with glazing bars in dark green. Beyond, the plant room to the Hyatt Hotel, the mirrored glass block, the plant room also trying to fit in with the neo-Victorian canal buildings. Along with the glassworks, a pub formed in the ruins of a derelict glassworks, glass planes firm roof and walls behind the restored brick facade fronting onto the canal.  The towpath continues beneath the inhabited bridge of Broad Street, and arrives at the green suspension bridge of Brindley Place. The flight of steps from the towpath ascends to a bandstand next to the bridge, the diagonal street that continues the line of the bridge leads to the square. On the right side of the street is Cafe Rouge, that could just have been transplanted from Paris, green steel supporting the canopy to form the outdoor dining area captures the feel of a Parisian pavement cafe. The place is buzzing with activity, diners in the cafes, a juggler in the bandstand, a steady stream of people walking across the square, on a path that leads through the fountain, past a and sometimes over the base of, a bronze sculpture depicting the blackened railway viaducts that are a prominent feature of Birmingham, across cobbled street to the car park.

Turning back and across the Bridge, the steps lead down to the plaza with mature trees, and green cloud sculpture, still with people walking between the two halves of the mould, looking quizzically wondering what it is, all set against the dark reflective glass of the ICC. Inside the Atrium, the internal street of the ICC, Business suits are everywhere, milling around as the street becomes the breakout space from a conference. Negotiating the stairs, ramps, fig trees and areas not occupied, a quick look in the empty Symphony Hall, lots of timber and on to another glass wall, supported on blue steel, with red and yellow neon sculpture, and out onto Centenary Square and a large ferris wheel.

The Birmingham Eye, a white steel A frame structure supports the hub of the wheel, springing down to Shipping containers filled with water, trimmed on the ground with a brick border where it meets the brick paved surface of the square.   the cabins bearing the french name, suggesting that the whole installation  has been shipped over from Paris. Kids play on the butter sculpture, officially named ‘Forward’, depicting Birmingham’s progression from the industrial revolution, made in fibreglass, in a buttermilk yellow colour eating the name the butter sculpture. Further along the square in front of the Repertory Theatre, another sculpture, a fountain has children playing in the water bouncing off bronze shells. In front of Baskerville house, there is a sculpture, a series of letter punches, spelling the name ‘Virgil’ marking the contribution of Joseph Chamberlain, letter founder, to the city’s ‘progress’. Skateboarders, play on the sloping circular plaza and low walls outside a white stone rotunda with domed roof and four portals, the war memorial, where inside the open door, every citizen on the city is that have lost their life in two world wars is remembered in letters carved in the stone. A mime artist captivates the crowds on the wide bridge over the Queensaway, grey suit, bowler hat, white face, a statue who stands absolutely still, then moves suddenly, freaking out the unsuspecting passer by.

Beneath the library, Hooters, a bar best known for the uniforms of the waitresses, Raphaels, a bar that always seems to be empty and Mc Donalds best known for...? set in the plastic forum. Outside two Japanese tourists act out a ritual that is seen the world over. One stands at the top of the steps forming the amphitheatre with their back to the Museum and Art Gallery building whilst the other takes a photograph of them, they then change places and repeat the process before walking off down the steps in the direction of Victoria Square and New Street, probably to photograph themselves standing in front of more of the city.
Heading out onto the top of the very crowded Amphitheatre that frames the rather circular Chamberlain Square, a band play on a stage outside the Town Hall, to quite a lively audience. Passing the town Hall and through the crowds, Gormley’s Iron Man Sculpture, a view down the street and there it is, the Navigation Street entrance to New Street Station, the sculptural lamp posts, the yellow brick road and the completion of the one mile route.

Fairy Wings - Library of Birmingham 2013

Crossing Centenary Square in the pouring rain is nothing new to Birmingham, Mecanoo’s  Library on the other hand is, situated between Baskerville House and the ICC, encapsulating the Repertory Theatre, a series of glass boxes stacked on top of each other, in such a way as to create huge dramatic cantilevers, very much in Dutch tradition of Koolhaas where heavy objects appear to float in the air, also in the tradition of Koolhaas, is the reference to context, in fact there is none, it forms its own context, significantly taller than its two counterparts, an exquisite object, a jewelled box referred to my four-year-old daughter as a building made of fairy wings. The fairy wings are a series of overlapping metal rings on the outside of the glass, probably offering a degree of solar protection, if there was any solar radiation falling on the surface, but mainly they are for decoration, to make a statement. 

On passing beneath the floating jewelled box, the cantilevered volume above provides a welcome respite from the rain, enough to shake of an umbrella before entering. On entering the lobby, a glass fronted space it is the library itself that the the main exhibit, a long travelator leads up across a circular atrium, a drum that descends to an underground level, the drum seems to be made out of books, or at least the circumference is lined with books on black shelves. In front of the books, black steel structure and balustrade line the edge of the atrium, wood floors complete the effect of making this feel like a comfortable place to read books. 

At the head of the travelator, a glass fronted space, with glass fronted corridors leading off to library offices where the staff can be seen working in an open environment with clear views out aver the city. A glass lift ascends through a smaller circular space above the drum, much to the bemusement of an elderly couple who have just ridden down in said lift, wait while others get in, only to be transported back up to the top. At the top an exhibit that feels like it has been transplanted from another time, which of course it has, the Shakespeare room, disassembled in the 1970s and reassembled in the 2010s, timber panelling, cabinets, empty drawers, and a collection of artefacts associated with William Shakespeare. 

Outside is a not so secret garden, not so secret because there are signs pointing to it, and it is listed on the appropriate level in the lift. Coats on, umbrella up, and out onto the roof of the library and into the rain , which has actually eased a bit, and wow! For a nine storey building, an unexpected clear view of the Birmingham skyline, demonstrates the benefit of building on the top of a hill. This is amazing, a tranquil space with intimate seating areas surrounded by shrub planting, with the whole city as a backdrop, Le Corbusier’s Solarium, from Vers une Architecture. City landmarks punctuate the skyline giving the impression of towers set in a green park, as distance hides the roads and low rise buildings and houses that exist between the trees. John Madin’s iconic inverted ziggurat, still bearing the name Birmingham Central Library, a pure sculpture in a plane of blocks, looking rather sad, rain stained, neglected. 

Make’s Cube, another sculptural object with no relationship with its context, pure form, making its own bold statement, a huge cube seemingly made up of many smaller cubes in a type of three dimensional puzzle, on the higher levels, sections are left out, and at the top glass planes are folded to form the roof.  A statement of creating a place within the neglected industrial plane, very much part of the thinking of the 2000s in stark contrast, the dull brown low rise blocks of 1980s conservatism, that stand directly in front. Scanning around, the rotunda, designed in the 1960s by Jim Roberts, rehabilitated by Urban Splash, now a cool address to live, a glass cylinder looking very much like Roberts’ original design. The absence of any sign of new street station from this vantage, shows how much has been removed in the current progress of reorganisation. 

Directly opposite the library, Arena Central, or at least the parts that were undertaken, Alpha Tower stands in a clear plaza following the removal of the television studios, a face lifted Crowne Plaza Hotel, essentially painted black and white to make it relate to the white concrete and graphite panelling of the apartment development. The neo-classical bank building that line the edge of Broad Street stand empty awaiting conversion into boutique hotels. The registry office now offices for the department of sport, out front the very shiny statue of the three Victorian industrialists, Watt, Newcomen, Priestley, studying a map of how they were going to transform the world. Beyond, a large concrete block with air handling units on the roof, reads as the Ballroom to the Crowne Plaza. In the background, the grey clad sides of the Mailbox. 

Looking up Broad Street, The Hyatt hotel, the 1990s glass tower a symbol of confidence in the future of Birmingham, along with its partner the Symphony Hall and ICC. Beyond Brindleyplace makes its own mark on the skyline, Porphoryos’ curious venetian tower, stands out among the brick clad blocks, historic buildings, Ikon Gallery in the former Oozells Street School, and the Church Nightclub, in a former Church, with their clock towers just poking up above the later blocks. Along Broad Street itself, office towers that were built in the 1970s have been reused, converted to hotels, breathing new life into the city.

My daughter does not share my interest in viewing the skyline, she wants to go swimming, we take a ride down in the glass elevator and to my surprise she wants to go out onto the roof terrace that fronts onto Centenary Square, there are quite a few people out here, enjoying the gardens on the top of the cantilevered box, benches are set into the landscape, some are the edge of the raised planters, one such bench has no planting, the space enclosed by the wooden slatted bench is lined with blue acrylic playing surface, a little person climbs over the bench, into the blue zone, now extremely happy, she is swimming! Must have noticed this from the secret garden on the roof.

Johnnycab Anyone: Exploring Masdar 2014

Masdar, the city itself is a series of car parks, augmented with lush planting, many of the car parks seem to be closed off, probably because they are already full. Eventually a car park with vacant spaces does present itself, so having found a space, it is off in search of the Personal Rapid Transport, the PRT, from images in the Masdar Brochure these seem reminiscent of the JohnnyCab from the 1984 movie Total Recall. Walking towards the buildings sitting on the concrete podium, there is no sign of a Johnnycab or a terminal where to meet them. 

The first building is the Siemens building, one of the major players in the work of Masdar, some of there projects are not in the UAE, in fact one of them is the London Array, the world’s largest wind farm located outside the Thames estuary. A lot of suits seem to be heading that way, to the Seimens building, not the Thames Estuary, and it seems a bit of a closed shop. So I head up through the covered plaza onto the raised podium into the Masdar Institute, which is a university campus acting as a satellite to Massachussets Institute of Technology (MIT). The campus forms the heart of the city the buildings designed by Foster and Partners, in fact the entire master plan for the city is devised by Foster, an experiment in achieving a zero carbon city in probably one of the most difficult climatic conditions on Earth.

The campus comprises laboratories researching advances in renewable energy: Solar, Wind, Tidal. The Knowledge base which is the university Library, Student accommodation, in the distinctive red precast blocks that look as though they have been sculpted out of clay and fired to become terracotta. Some of the screens are adorned with UAE flags as students try to assert their identity on the development. At podium level, there are signs of a village coming to life, posters on the inside of the storefront glazing announce the arrival of Organic Cafe, and other restaurants. One that is operational Caribou Coffee, a lively environment with students and tutors sitting outside enjoying coffee and pastries in the external environment where in the car park the temperature registered 34 degrees Celcsuis, the shaded courtyards really do make a difference. The courtyards shown bare in the brochure are occupied with shrub planting and trees and are alive with the sound of birds singing.

Wandering through the network of courtyards, considerably cooler than outside, the view up between the buildings, a narrow alley with a jagged top, solar panels on the top of the buildings serve the dual function of generating power and reducing cooling load through preventing direct solar radiation from landing on the roof. Steps lead down into a sunken courtyard, shaded by planting, is what looks very much like a PRT terminal, the automatic doors open to a large concourse space that is covered in plastic sheet, looking very much like work in progress, that will make this a major PRT terminal in the site.

Driving around the development, past the solar farm with the vast array of all of the different solar panels available from all manufacturers around the world to the Masdar Office, a kind of portakabin security office, with a solitary security guard who wants to direct me back to the Masdar Institute, I was expecting a visitor centre, probably something akin to the Crystal at Royal Victoria Dock in London, a venue where it is possible to see a model of the master plan and to understand progress that is being made. I suppose for now we have to be content with the website. 

Crazy From the Heat - Dubai 2014

Life in the street takes on a different intensity than the uptown areas, here the traffic is slow, there is a constant stream of people walking, milling around, buying, selling. This area of city is absolutely alive! the road arrives into Bastikiya, the old part of Dubai, situated along the creek. Historic buildings are restored and are enjoying a new lease of life as heritage hotels, restaurants, one of which has a camel standing outside, a stuffed one admittedly, next to a chalkboard sign advertising healthy camel burgers. Wandering through the narrow streets, punctuated with wind towers on the corners of blocks, it is easy to see that Masdar City, although distinctly modern has its roots in the historic Arabian city. In a courtyard, another camel, happily alive and resting on the ground, well groomed and in traditional dress, as though ready to head off on an expedition across the desert, I wonder if he knows his friend has been converted into burgers. 

Across the road, past the iron railings of the rulers court, and there is the creek, the old port made famous to the international audience by Michael Palin on his TV series ‘Around the World in 80 Days’. Slightly less busy with working dhows now, well they are working, but earning their living in a different way, many are floating restaurants, others are what is termed pleasure craft, taking groups of tourists around the Creek. A boat trip is a great way to view the city, a pink jellyfish pulsates near the surface as the boat heads out from the jetty, and heads upstream on past the Dhows that are floating restaurants, heavy timber built vessels, varnished, with windows set into what would have been the cargo hold, then a kind of verandah created on the deck.  The creek is actually quite a wide waterway, probably akin to the River Thames as it passes through Central London, although here the south bank and north back are reversed, South being the Jumeirah side is a park, with the palaces, and the quayside is lined with palm trees, North being the Sharjah side, which has a far more of a working feel, concrete blocks tell of a city largely developed in the 1970s following the formation of the UAE. Glass towers form the later additions, and compared with Dubai these are relatively small scale, in the order of 20 - 30 storeys. Above the blocks and towers the flight path into Dubai International Airport is drawn by a constant stream of planes descending and eventually disappearing beneath the blocky skyline. 

As the boat takes a leisurely cruise, the sun begins to set creating silhouettes of the towers around the business district, Burj Khalifa now completely visible for the first time today, glimpsed between passing the dhows, and once again Big Ben, or rather its replica tower, the name Big Ben actually refers to the Bell within the clock tower of the Palace of Westminster, better known as the Houses of Parliament. But here it is a prominent silhouette on the Dubai skyline. At the Creekside Park, cable cars transport visitors over the treetops, giving them a view of the private yachts moored along private pontoons. Passing beneath the highway, the boat can go no further, as the creek is crossed by a floating bridge that blocks the way and the creek becomes more of a shallow lake. Traversing the North side of the creek gives a different perspective, the layering of the city becomes apparent, boats against trees, against 1970s blocks with their roof mounted neon signs, against the 2000s glass towers against the setting sun. A working dhow passes by with the sound of its thumper diesel engine carrying across the waves, along with the splashing of a constant jet of water that is used to cool it.

The sun glints off the glass facades of the blocks, and the skyline on both sides starts to form dramatic silhouettes against the yellow sky, blocks, signs, minarets, giant golf balls. The water is absolutely alive, water taxis dart across the creek, whilst others take groups of visitors on tours, filming the entire experience on iPads, others plugged in to their phone trying very hard not to notice life going on around them.  Heading downstream images from Calvino’s Invisible Cities form in the mind, only the gondolas are dhows, and this is no longer a working waterfront, more of a museum waterfront. Cormorants roost on the top of red pilings. The names on some of the hotels tell a story of a different time before this young nation was formed, the George Hotel a clear example. 

Back on dry land and wandering through the souk on the museum waterfront, vendors selling trinkets to tourists, silks, watches and the standard issue T shirt thats says ‘I love Dubai’. The narrow streets go the Souk are enclosed by a roof supported on timber pointed arches, associated with a completely different architecture in Europe. On the quayside more of the restaurant and hotels in the restored buildings, along with museums, galleries and a ‘Traditional Architecture House’ new interventions besides the block paving, are tented shade structures, playgrounds and street lighting, and occasionally Burj Khalifa appears in the distance, a reminder of how much Dubai has transformed from its origins in a fishing village on the creek.

The full story is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble published by Xlibris - Do We Need ARCHITECTS?

No crocodiles but we do have sharks - Bangkok 2004

The drive from the airport to the centre of Bangkok, is via an elevated motorway, lined with billboards, billboards and more billboards, the sky is a light grey, heavy with moisture, not rain but humidity, which added to the grey of the concrete, the grey/silver of cars and minibuses gives the sense of entering a very grey city, up in the distance in the haze the blocks also appear grey. 

Then when the taxi turns off the motorway, colour is everywhere! City taxis in red, blue, green, yellow...usually in combinations. Tuk tuks, that I have become so accustomed to in Colombo are everywhere, usually painted blue with elaborate designs worked into them. The sound not so much a tuk tuk, because they have all been converted to run on methanol as opposed to two stroke oil, and the locals call them ‘boom booms’ on account of the deeper engine sound. Buses look like US army jeeps, because that is what they are, or at least were, now converted into buses, chrome front grille, wheels, and blue bodywork with  designs similar to that of the tuk tuks. 

Streets are very busy and very clean, lined with trees, and Buddha Statues, sometimes in a glass case, standing guard on the entrance to shopping centres. 

Overhead the metro system, concrete legs carry the trains above the traffic, sometimes to two levels, and a constant stream of people efficiently negotiate the network of stairs, bridges and walkways to be able to get to them without having to contend with the eight lanes of traffic below. The trains, completely obscured by advertising, glide along effortlessly over the slow moving traffic.

Heading into Silom District, the street scene takes on a ‘Blade Runner’ feel as buildings lining the street are buried beneath an array of air conditioning units, signs, and cables, that are everywhere strung between buildings across the side streets. White tower blocks pop up from behind the street edge, hotels, and residential towers, some with colourful balconies as though to try to brighten up the grey sky. 

Along the street edge the pavement is shaded, protected by a green fabric sheet, that obscures any views of the traffic, market stalls line the way, with vendors selling anything with a designer name on, expertly crafted locally and sold for a fraction of the price. A turn to the left and the whole scene is magnified in a huge hot indoor market, stalls arranged so tightly that there is barely any room to walk between them, this place is huge, crumbling brick walls, corrugated asbestos sheet and very dirty roof lights resting on rusted iron trusses, and support columns barely visible behind all the market stalls, selling a rich variety of fruit, vegetables, spices, chillies...carcasses hang on meat hooks whilst below water can be seen gurgling below a cast iron grating in the ground giving off a slightly pungent smell suggesting that it is not rainwater. The concrete floor off the market is damp, is that humidity, or does the drain back up every now and again? Difficult to tell, all the while trading continues regardless. 

From the 11th storey window of the hotel the city seems absolutely alive, the sounds of car horns, tuk tuks, and buses is muffled as the windows don't open in this air conditioned block. the sun makes its first appearance of the day, just a brief appearance as it drops beneath the cloud to cast silhouettes against the blocks. No towers in the park here, just towers planted on top of the historic fabric. Pockets of historic fabric are visible here and there, densely packed enclaves of timber framed, timber clad houses and shops with clay tiled roofs, threaded in among the trees, next to a forty something storey block. White towers, glass towers, some tall, others not so tall march across the urban plane as the tide of progress threatens to engulf the old city.

The next morning, met in the hotel lobby by a very enthusiastic tour guide it is off to the Golden Temple, with a compulsory visit to what I can only describe as a tourist trap. Outside identical minibuses line up, and groups of tourists are escorted into a kind of jewellery store, a women’s pearl market, with a side room where the men are deposited to drink Singha beer whilst the women make up their mind if they are going to buy anything. All around this octagonal space are aquariums or is it aquaria? No larger than what somebody who likes to keep tropical fish would have it their home, located behind the counters above the process of hard selling that is going on. In the aquaria, are angel fish, brightly coloured residents of coral reefs, and sharks! No word of a lie, two baby sharks about eighteen inches long, frantically trying to find a way out of a fish tank that can be no more than four feet long and two wide/deep. Maybe it is to remind the men that are patiently waiting, trying not to drink to much beer before lunchtime, that at least they can get out eventually. 

Every visit to a place of interest is combined with somewhere that is geared to relieving tourists of their newly changed currency. Floating village combined with orchid farm. Heading out of the city Khlong Latmayom Floating Market we cross the river...and our tour guidetells us that there used to be crocodiles living in the river but now it is too polluted.  The highway abruptly ends, concrete and tarmac become red dirt track, roadside cafes and car showrooms give way to coconut groves and paddy fields, to arrive at a red dirt parking lot with a neat line of minibuses, to board a boat, a long narrow boat like gondola with an old car engine and a long shaft with a propeller to make it work as a marine engine. 

Zooming along the waterways we pass dwellings that are erected on the river, permanent dwellings, concrete base resting above the water on piles that are driven down through the river bed. There are the local population washing clothes, pots, pans cleaning their teeth in the water, the same water that we were previously told is too polluted for crocodiles.

At the market, as the name suggests the produce is sold from boats, the usual market produce fruit, spices, along with the obvious ‘stuff’ to sell to tourists, T shirts and souvenirs to tell you that you have been there.  A brief visit to a floating restaurant, and it is back on the speed gondola past the houses, to the minibus. The journey back to the city involves a snake farm, just what we are expected to do with them I don’t know, stir fry one for dinner perhaps, take one home and keep it as a pet maybe, and finally a wood carving studio. All around the studio among the life size carvings of elephants, try fitting one of those in your suitcase, local people, men and women are seated on the floor carving tableaus depicting scenes usually comprising elephants and jungle, carved in integrate detail, using nothing but their legs to hold the carving steady whilst they work on them. 

Back into the city, the first of many visits to the tailor shop in the shopping centre at the base of the hotel and all too quickly it is the taxi journey back to the airport, colours disappear and it is back to grey cars, grey sky and grey towers silhouetted against the afternoon sun, that is somewhere above the clouds.

Schizophenia of the New Street Complex - Birmingham 2001

As the title suggests this is about mental illness, but not in the traditional sense, but what else to you call it when a significant chunk of city has no relationship with the rest of the city? This is a site that exhibits multiple personalities as it is trying to be in no particular order: railway station, 3 car parks, office block, shopping centre and housing development simulteneously. 

The relationship with the city, or lack of it is best demonstrated at the edges, or interfaces. The New Street interface which is closest to the activities of the city centre. is actually the podium containing the Pallasades a shopping centre. Any glimpses of the site from New Street are of the blank concrete wall of shopping centre, which practically obscures any routes from the station to any of the main spaces of the city centre. Ladywood House is an office block that sits uncomfortably on top of the podium, which is similarly divorced from the life of the city. The entrance to the offices is crammed between two retail units at street level, where shop-fronts loom out of the shadows as the deep concrete plinth is propped up over the street sitting on a run of thick concrete columns. 

A long ramp crosses the front of the megastructure providing service access to the shopping centre by means of storage units being situated directly above the retail units. The ramp also provides access to the car parks that exist on different levels of the structure resembling a derelict industrial facility. The plane in front of the car park ramp is taken up by the new footbridge, where discoloured glass and white steel turrets sit on the platforms, with white steel and translucent polycarbonate panelled bridge spanning between them, all blackened by the constant onslaught of diesel exhaust smoke. The Navigation Street/Stephenson Place edge, comprises car park entrance ramps, barriers and surveillance cameras, a spiral pedestrian ramp connects the street level to an elevated walkway along the back of the shopping centre above. Although much of the tangle is invisible from the nearest edges of the station, as the whole scene is also hidden from view by a two metre high concrete wall lining the back of the pavement to Navigation Street, and Hill Street.

The second interface is the one that buts up against Hill Street and Station Street. Here much of the site is obscured from view behind the ever present two-metre high wall. This serves to make a one sided street, as the wall turns along Station Street, an opening forms entrances to the car parks and the base of the ramp that cuts across the front of the building. Bridges fl y across the rear access road named ‘Queens Drive’ after the street that used to run through the full length of the Station. One linking the Pallasades with a stair tower that permits access to the bus station that sits beneath the Bull Ring Centre. The second bridge links the corner of the Pallasades to the surviving concrete block of the 1960’s Bull Ring Centre. The Queens Drive forms the taxi route to the main entrance of the station and what sounds like a prestigious address for the residents of Stephenson Tower, which sits on top of the parcel depot, forming what passes for social housing. 

At the third Interface, with the new Bull Ring is made up of series of holes in the urban fabric surrounded by the ubiquitous two metre wall constituting landscape which is punctuated by surface level car parking and Birmingham’s infamous one way system of access roads. The Pallasades flies out over the short stay car park and station entrance with its deep concrete plinth sitting on columns making for another dark entrance. Not exactly the way you want to arrive in to the UK's second city.