Showing posts with label CUBE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CUBE. Show all posts

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

the modernist magazine and other news

the modernist is a new, quarterly magazine for lovers of modernism, published by Manchester Modernist Society. Whilst it leans towards architecture and design, primarily in the North West, I was asked to write an article about the constructed language Esperanto, which shares many of modernism's ideals. The article came about following a chance discussion about encountering a strange, early to mid twentieth century young people's magazine (published in Manchester) in the National Co-operative Archive called Our Circle which was so enthused by a Esperanto and its possibilities for fostering international freedom and contributing to world peace and universal brotherhood that it published stories, lessons and correspondence from its readers in Esperanto.

The theme of the first issue is 'bold', and other contributions include: a foreword by Jonathan Meades; Blackburn market; Aidan Turner-Bishop on cooling towers; Richard Brook on an iconic logo; Dr Steve Millington on the Mancunian Way; Matthew Whitfield on the 1965 plan for Liverpool; David Oates' photos of Oscar Niemeyer's Brazil; Eddy Rhead on tripe restaurants; Stephen Hale on mods; and news and reviews.

the modernist will be launched at CUBE gallery on Thursday June 23 from 6.30-8.30pm, with wine!

Issues cost just £3.75 or £15 for a subscription (including postage).

It is available from Cornerhouse bookshop in Manchester, Aye-Aye books in Glasgow, News from Nowhere in Liverpool and Do You Read Me in Berlin and can be purchased online here.

Read more about it at www.the-modernist-mag.co.uk.

Read it online here:


In other news:

Victoria Baths Fanzine Convention went really well. Thanks to everyone who came and browsed, helped sell out Deerly Beloved Bakery's stall, ran and took part in lino-cutting and embroidery and fanzine-making workshops and watched the film and spoke and listened. There are a few write-ups floating around, as well as lots of photos taken by Alex Zamora from Fever Zine here, and there are some more photos here and here and here. Maybe there will be something similar next year...

More news:

Hayley Flynn nominated The Shrieking Violet in the monthly blog section of Blank Pages, Blank Media's magazine, which meant I had to write about my blogging experience then nominate a blog (my choice was not very imaginative!).

Read it here:



Rotherham Zine Library asked me to do an interview about The Shrieking Violet fanzine! Read it here.

Thursday, 21 January 2010

Alan Fletcher: 50 Years of Graphic Work (and Play), CUBE

The New Year has got off to a good start, as the first new show I've seen this year is excellent. As the title implies, CUBE's retrospective of the British graphic designer Alan Fletcher's work is far more than just a parade of formal design for corporate clients - though there are plenty of examples of his classic designs for brands like Cunard and PAN AM. Some of his work for high profile organisations is still in use today - the V&A logo, for example.

The exhibition is really interesting where it shows the blurring of the boundaries between art and design, and by extension life and design, and the ways in which art and design can be useful and incorporated into every day life. It also raises questions about how what we see is affected by what we're shown - how we react to brands, designs and logos, and the way in which they arouse in us connotations which have become instantly familiar.

This worked both ways; Fletcher also quoted from life and what was around him, from incorporating the distinctive patterning of punched type tape into the Reuters logo to obsessively collecting piles of letters as examples of different typefaces. Although minor experiments, his collages comprised of these fonts are interesting; the word 'anonymous' is drawn from letters leaping out from themselves anyonymous newspaper articles, characters from the Coca Cola logo still spell nothing but Coca Cola in the mind even when removed from their context and recycled into another word.

Sometimes, Fletcher's interventions of art into life are as small as letterheads. Few examples of design could be more appropriate for their purpose than the spidery, red, black and green handwriting that forms an apple logo for 'Parvits Products, purveyors of quality fresh fruits and vegetables', stamped onto an inventory of produce, or the words that taper into the shape of a wine glass for John Elliott Cellars, London.

Amongst Fletcher's larger, more striking, public designs are London Underground posters advertising the various attractions of London, including one entitled 'Shopping' in which a bar code is integrated into the design, repackaged into a colourful, more human shopping bag. It's a reminder of essential financial reality of shopping, the bottom line of profit underneath the glamour and escapism of consumerism.

Other highlights are his posters for public institutions such as museums and galleries, and a campaign from the early '70s against plans for the government to start charging for national galleries and museums. 'We the undersigned' is a simple but effective concept; a collection of the signatures of artists, from Bruegel to Van Gogh, their unique identifying marks easily recognisable.

Fletcher's work is a lot more personal than much graphic design. As someone who's spent a considerable amount of time in Barcelona, I enjoyed his early sketches of familiar places like La Bouqeria Market and Las Ramblas, detailed and completely different to the simplicity of the design for which he became famous.

Some pieces, like Fletcher's books The Art of Looking Sideways, or his imagined sketches of the new world as seen for the first time by the pioneers through a mass of ocean, and the sight of the Irish coast from Wales, viewed through a curtain of rain, almost make you laugh out loud, like not-so-distant distant relations of the cartoonish line drawings of David Shrigley. Others make reference to the tongue in cheek humour of the Victorian author Jerome K Jerome.

His Christmas cards for children are similarly entertaining yet thought provoking. In one set, entitled 'A Primer for Commercial Children', a child's alphabet is already equated with branding - P corresponds to the Penguin logo, Q to Quaker. In another collage, the letters of 'EVIAN' are playfully rearranged 'naive'.

A marker of good design is being able to imagine living with it, and my favourite pieces were Fletcher's calendars, ranging from a calendar celebrating key events of the year to a star sign calendar featuring inspired representations of each of the star signs in block shapes and colours reminiscent of children's paper cutouts. The most effective, though, is the weather calendar. With the barest components necessary - a few colours and basic shapes, Fletcher manages to sum up the whole of the British climate and its weather patterns - lived mostly in black and white, with a few months bursting into colour. Severe lines are scored across the page for a rainy March, May is a mere swathe of verdant green, July a flaming orange sphere with jagged edges. Autumn is summed up by a collection of wistful brown paper bag coloured shapes, December is a monochrome snowy sky. Best of all, November disintegrates into a scrawl of grey squiggles like the static on a TV screen.

Alan Fletcher: Fifty years of graphic work (and play), until April 3 2010.

CUBE
113-115 Portland Street
Manchester
M1 6DW

Tickets £4/£3.50 concessions.

http://www.cube.org.uk/

http://www.pentagram.com/

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

Manchester Modernist Society

From a grubby concrete wall hidden behind scrawny trees to a shabby former council building turned into a giant advertising hoarding, all across Manchester are iconic pieces of the city's fabric laying neglected and forlorn. Otherwise known as the Holloway sculptural wall on London Road, built in 1968 as a sound-buffer yet an artwork in its own right, and the former Unemployment and Benefits Office on Aytoun Street, these are just some of Manchester’s hidden treasures that we walk past on a daily basis.
Whilst to some these buildings rank amongst outdated eyesores that should be pulled down as soon as possible, many regard them fondly as a vital part of their personal experiences of the city.

Manchester Modernist Society was formed in April by Maureen Ward and Jack Hale, two Manchester enthusiasts, to inspire people to look again at the buildings which, while not necessarily beautiful in a conventional sense, are central to our cityscape.

The pair, who are members of the Twentieth Century Society, the organisation which campaigns to protect the architectural heritage of the last century, acknowledges there are already a lot of fragmented groups that look at how we relate to the city, but wants to encourage them to work together.

Maureen said: “Lots of really interesting things exist relating to how we live in the city in a variety of ways, but often they don’t know about the others. People are coming at the city from all sorts of different angles trying to do the same thing - CUBE, flâneurs, the Loiterers Resistance Movement, the North West branch of the Twentieth Century Society We wanted to get together with likeminded people who could give us ideas we hadn’t thought of.”

As the first modern city, Manchester is choc a bloc with modern buildings, which for the society's purposes are those built between 1914 and 1999. This encompasses a lot of different architectural styles and movements, from 30s Art Deco to 60s Brutalism.

We all know Manchester is renowned for its Victorian and Edwardian architecture - think about the attention conferred on buildings like Gorton Monastery and Victoria Baths, as well as its mills - but what about those buildings that get on with it quietly in the background, minding their own business? While often not as ostentatiously flashy as the grand redbrick Victorian buildings, they have a beauty all of their own.

Maureen said: “We‘re proud of the Victorian city but the modern city developed in a totally different way to the Victorian and Georgian cities. It’s based around cars and roadways, movement and speed and that’s reflected in the design.”

She continued: “Manchester is a really modern city - so modern it doesn’t seem to care about its history. It’s in love with the future but it thinks it’s good to remember the past. The city has no history of itself if it’s always changing.”

Maureen enthused: “I wanted to spend my tiny free time saving the city from itself. We share a real concern about our recent past and our place in the future of the city. We live in the city and it forms us, so us and the city are tied to each other.”

She continued: “Manchester is so in awe of the image it has of itself post bomb. It’s very glossy and glamorous but a lot of people are worried it isn’t really for them. We’re often interested in beleaguered buildings.”

Jack added: “We’re interested in the curious, hidden and quirky bits too.”

Often deserted, Manchester’s modernist icons are neglected and left to rot, until they’re torn down to make way for the new city of glass that’s taking over Manchester, street by street, turning it into something shiny and homogenous yet sometimes cheaply built. Jack said: “It’s expensive to use old buildings in a modern way - it’s cheaper to build new ones than to modernise 1930s buildings”.

Maureen added: “I’m not convinced we’re building really excellent new architecture. Often, new buildings look as if they’ve been wrapped in tinfoil.”

Tearing down these buildings often rips out a page from the city’s history. Maureen said: “The whole of the twentieth century is gone now. Modernism means a lot of different things to different people but the vernacular is fast disappearing without really being documented - we are trying to find people who are documenting it.”

Jack, a freelance arts project facilitator and fundraiser who has spent time working at CUBE, said: “I’m an urbanist. I’m not interested in the country or medieval churches, but I’m interested in recent history. It’s a part of our architectural heritage that needs caring for so we’re doing it ourselves.”

Maureen, who has an academic background in archaeology, agreed: “Our architectural heritage shows what we were. For example, the New Century Hall had a ballroom and scooter boys used to meet there. I’m interested in old cafes as well, and meeting places.” For example, pre-1967 cafes became spaces where gay men could meet when homosexuality was still illegal.

That’s what the buildings of modern Manchester capture - its recent history, from old cinemas to tower blocks and council estates. As Maureen says, they show the ‘machinery of how the city works'.

Two buildings stand out for the pair as epitomising the society’s fasincation with modernist architecture. Maureen said: “I’m obsessed with the UBO office and have been for years. It’s magnificent in a peculiar way but it’s increasingly being surrounded by very tawdry modern buildings and its beauty is becoming very obvious.”

Jack singled out the Daily Express building on Great Ancoats Street as ’unique’ in Manchester, saying: “I love the fact it’s one of only three of its kind built. The black glass they used has become very common since the 1930s but then it was radical. A successful building has to work as a building and be beautiful as well. The Express building is a great example as you could see the factory printing machines through it, the massive newspapers going on big conveyor belts.”

He elaborated: “Disappearing buildings are often part of what we’re proud of. Buildings aren’t very interesting by themselves - it’s about what they represent and what goes on in them. The Daily Express building was part of an alternative Fleet Street.”

Maureen agreed: “Manchester was the setting of lots of firsts - what are we first in now?”

Unfortunately, few of these buildings survive in their original purpose - the Express Building for one is now flats and offices. Lutyens’ magnificent former Midland Bank on King Street, built in the 1930s, is lying empty, having trouble finding someone to give it a new use, and the Coop is moving out of the CIS tower to a new, purpose built premises. Manchester University wants to sell off the former UMIST campus, home to many innovative buildings such as the Faraday Building - many students at the university are unaware North Campus even exists - and students will cease to study at the affectionately named Toast Rack in Fallowfield by 2010. Moberly Hall, the former refectory building, which Maureen praises for its 'lovely angles', is already on its way out.

The Manchester Modernist Society’s love of the mark modernism made on our city goes far beyond buildings, however, encompassing design classics such as the K8 Telephone Kiosk. Maureen said: “There are only four of them left in Manchester now as we don’t use payphones anymore. They are listed buildings but they’re in a terrible state. It’s sad.”

Their passion even extends to Manchester’s own Highway in the Sky, the Mancunian Way, with its flyovers and roads into nowhere, a built monument to utopianism and post war optimismMaureen explained: “There’s lots of interesting bits of history that aren’t buildings too. For example, the Holloway Wall, which is rather forlorn now.”
The society acknowledges it may not be able to save the buildings that are already condemned to be replaced, but hopes to raise awareness of them before they go forever through specially commissioned artwork and screenings of old films. There will also be talks and debates, walks and social events such as outings to other cities.

Maureen cautioned: “There will be virtually nothing left if we’re not careful. People always do just want to pull things down that we now think are national treasures. The city council thought they could sell or get rid of buildings on the quiet but we’re acting as their voice. We need to get together into a critical mass to try to save them.”

She concluded: “Even if we can’t save buildings, we’d like to have a celebration before they go.”

http://www.manchestermodernistsociety.org/

Join the facebook group here.

The CUBE website has a brilliant guide to Manchester's buildings, broken down into area/ theme/ architect, with an extensive building by building guide to its modernist architecture.

Manchester Confidential has often sung the praises of modernist buildings too, from the Holloway Wall to the UBO.

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

Capture Manchester, CUBE

If you could sum up Manchester in a single image, what would it be? And is it possible? An exhibition at CUBE sets out to capture the spirit of Manchester, comprising of hundreds of images - mainly photos - sent in by the public. The postcard size images offer snapshots of Manchester life, from its landmarks to small, neglected corners and alleys most of us walk straight past on a daily basis, with ten winning entries receiving £500 for their shots. There's no single image that, taken in isolation, says Manchester and sums up its essence, but taken as a whole the images give a sense of the chaotic fragments that make up life in the city.

I wasn’t impressed by the judges' choices of winners which, apart from a shot of graffiti boasting 'Gorton girls know all the words to songs by Chaka Chan', seemed a bit predictable. Winning images will be printed as postcards (click here to read Phil Griffin's excellent article about the lack of variety of Manchester postcards).

As you’d expect, Castlefield is well represented in the submissions, including the often seen shot of its two towers - an old, redbrick one rising from the shadow of the Beetham tower that dominates the city skyline. The famous curves of Central Library are returned to over and over again, and it’s good to see B of the Bang commemorated before it goes forever.

Many photos take the architecture of the city as their starting point, often focusing in on quirks like gargoyles. Old and new is a recurring theme, and one of the most effective shots places ornate redbrick turrets against the protruding glass blocks of the new civil justice centre in Spinningfields, a bizarre and extreme juxtaposition. The derelict Department of Employment building, its former purpose just about identifiable from battered letters on the front, takes on a new relevance for our times. Victoria Station deservedly gets a look in, with its map of railway routes, and the destination signs outside, where a tiny Hull is squeezed in between Newcastle and Belgium.

There is a large number of photos of triumphant symbols of the new Manchester like Urbis and the big wheel, many of which are embellished with technical trickery and special effects. The ones which are unplayed with are more effective, though, showing Manchester in its natural state, from the utilitarian street namies of Ancoats - Mangle Street - to a row of boarded up terraces. Pictures close in on doorways and abandoned entrances or the front of an Asian grocer's and an MEN newsagents. A worthy winner would have been the photo taken from the top deck of a Magic Bus, a rival Finglands in the background - what could be more typical of the Manchester experience than a journey along the Wilsmlow Road corridor at peak time?

My favourite photos are the ones that look beyond the glossy image - all shiny glass and big gestures - that's sold to tourists and could be seen in any of the council's promotional literature. The photos are best when they just show what's there already, and make us look at it closer, rather than trying to impress by montaging or photoshopping. For example, the area outside the Thirsty Scholar and the Attic with its spiral staircase is given a new, fairytale magic when framed in black and white that would be missed by the casual observer.

Among my favourites are those which look past Manchester's monuments and architecture, forego grand aerial views to get down to the level of its inhabitants - one photo even crouches down to a goose's eye level.

It's Manchester's inhabitants that make the city what it is, after all. A portrait of a teenager wearing a tshirt asking ‘Do I f***ing look like I’m a people person’ is instantly recognisable to anyone who spends anytime in Cathedral Gardens at the weekend, where teenagers congregate. Canals and woodland are more interesting when they have people silhouetted against them, Piccadilly Gardens more alive when children play in its fountains. The shiny new city of Spinningfields is made more human by a woman waiting by a 'Meet me in Spinningfields' poster -the advertising message becomes literal rather than an empty slogan of redevelopment.

The best photos are those dictated by circumstance, such as sunshine catching on street sculptures in New Islington, a springboard for a burst of sunlight to leap out against a cloudy sky. One of my favourite photos shows the outline of a couple holding hands in the snow, next to the Temple in Heaton Park.

Until April 18.

Incidentally, I'm far too disorganised for submitting anything to any exhibitions. I think this is my favourite Manchester photo, of Plymouth Grove pub in Ardwick, taken well over a year ago. It was the first photo I developed by myself, and wasn't meant to come out so dark, but I thought the darkness suited it perfectly, making its distinctive clock tower (Grade 2 listed) stand out against a moody Mancunian sky. The pub's derelict and boarded up, in an area that's had huge building programmes going on all around it. I don't know if it's still there, but I hope so.

Wednesday, 25 March 2009

The British Landscape, CUBE gallery

I've only recently started going to exhibitions at CUBE (Centre for the Urban Built Environment), following their really interesting Yellow Space show, and I really enjoyed their new exhibition of work by the photographer John Davies.

Taken between 1979 and 2005, John Davies' imposing black and white shots document a changing Britain. They trace the way both its natural landscape and urban centres have been changed forever by the processes of industrialisation and modernisation; the march of motorways across its hills and valleys, rebuilding of cities after the war and spread of 1960s office complexes and tower blocks, similar from town to town and city to city. This all seems to lead up to the exhibition's culminating photo, of the gleaming sprawl of the Trafford Centre and its million or so carparking spaces.

A grubby grey box of a building, once voted among the ugliest in the country, stands awkwardly between ornate nineteenth century buildings in Newcastle, and the layers of Birmingham's New Street Station are depicted as a tangle of concrete.

The way in which we influence our landscape is obvious, as is seen particularly in the shots of Welsh mines, but we’re left to reach our own conclusions about how the environment around us affects our lives. People are strangely absent from most of the photos, which either show the closed structures in which our lives are contained - the offices, multi-storey car parks and tower blocks where everyday events take place - or the traces left behind once these projects are abandoned and places exhausted.

Partly because they're aerial shots, the photos are static and eerily quiet - when humans appear, as in one image where insignificant figures pick blackberries by an abandoned railway line, they’re almost quaint.

From the toy town houses of Hulme, crisscrossed with roads like a town planner’s model, to a Stalybridge skyline dominated by mill towers and a hulking Stockport viaduct (accompanied by the necessary Engels quotes on urban deprivation), the built environment towers forebodingly, way above the level of human life.

In a 1982 photo, the players in a football game are tiny specks in comparison to the massive Agecroft power station in Salford; it's almost as if they're there by accident. Even a horse, incongruously small and lost in the foreground, seems to be staring at it in awe. Four huge monolithic towers, blackened at the top, rise over everything for miles around and spill smoke into the air around them, as if to prove Davies’ point about man’s huge footprint on the world around us.

What is implicit in the often desolate emptiness of Davies’ photos is the way lives have been changed and uprooted to make way for the new, from slum clearance and the demolition of back to back houses to the programme of mine closure undertaken by the Conservative government. We’re shown the remnants of a community that was built up around Easingdon Colliery in County Durham and told, ironically, that the houses which survived featured in the film Billy Elliott and are now regarded as ‘classic’.

Hulme provides another example of how trends in urban living come round again like fashions; housing left over from the Industrial Revolution was knocked down to make way for sixties high rise housing estates, before being rebuilt as traditional low rise houses again in recent decades.

Many of the scenes look old fashioned now, depicting a bygone way of life - for example, a shot of racing pigeon sheds overlooking Sheffield, and many of the buildings pictured, including Agecroft Power Station, are long since demolished.

What links all the photos across the 30 year time span together is that they have an unusual beauty. A few photos of nature’s natural monoliths, the peaks and mountains of the Lake District, show Britain in its pure, unsullied, glory, but Davies’ shots seem to say that it's still majestic even after the intervention of man.

CUBE
113-115 Portland Street
Manchester
M1 6DW
Until April 18.

www.cube.org.uk
www.johndavies.uk.com