Saturday 6 December 2014

Concrete 3: Memories Of The Future




Crown House, Central Leicester, November 2014


All that crumbling concrete and haunted Modernism in my last post is just too delicious, so here are a few more images from the same shooting location.  Some of these are a little more oblique or formally self-conscious and, as with so much of what I do, there’s that love of the atmospheres, surfaces and materiality of my urban surroundings.


Multi-Story Car Park, Lee Circle, Central Leicester, November 2014


The images here all derive from my ongoing quest for locations for my concrete-themed video collaboration with Andrew Smith.  How much of this footage will find it’s way into our final effort is impossible to predict, but I’m massively enjoying just getting out there with the video camera and bagging such subjects, wherever I find them.  I’m conscious that, around the turn of the year, we’ll need to harden down, both thematically and editorially, and I’m sure that will be when the real work (and learning) really starts.  The aim is to have something coherent to show at our ‘Mental Mapping’ exhibition at Rugby Art Gallery & Museum, next June.

For now though, it’s still about the sheer pleasure of getting out there and hunting down the raw imagery, despite the drawbacks of plunging temperatures and ever-diminishing light levels.  Increasingly, I’ve found myself wandering out of mic range with the DSLR to collect static shots at the same time, leaving the movie camera to get on with it, when appropriate.


Multi-Story Car Park, Lee Circle, Central Leicester, October 2014


For this shoot, I based myself in Leicester’s Lee Circle multi-story car park, - an edifice whose wider significance I touched on last time.  Fairly early on a Saturday morning, I had the deserted upper decks to myself and was clearly of insufficient interest to Security for them to inquire about my (plainly benign) activities [1.].


Multi-Story Car Park, Lee Circle, Central Leicester, November 2014


The car park structure is of obvious appeal as a subject in its own right, and it was fascinating to be able to catalogue those interior spaces in their abandonment, whilst conscious of the building slowly filling up with vehicles from below like an encroaching tide.  This was conveyed through the ever-increasing volume of sound events drifting up the building’s ramps and central well, and also through the quality of vibrations transmitted through different parts of the physical structure.  A certain multi-sensory heightening is one of the notable features of this steady-gaze approach to filming and I’ve never once become bored, as I’ve allowed the true experiential dimensions of such places to unfold, as my static lens records minimal ‘action’ in real time [2.].  Increasingly, I seem to find ever more captivating layers of stimulus in locations that so many others seem to keen to disregard, despise, or escape from as rapidly as possible.



Crown House From Lee Circle Car Park


The other point about the car park is that it provides an admirable vantage point from which to survey other notable and related landmarks.  Prime amongst these is the abandoned, and increasingly derelict, Crown House, just across the road.  This sublimely ugly monolith is rapidly becoming a bona fide modern ruin, - a state that often presages imminent demolition.  Interestingly, the plot immediately in front of the building was temporarily used as an impromptu car park until recently.  My interest in urban car parks sometimes feels perplexingly nerdish [3.], but I can’t help musing on the differences between the contemporary organic opportunism of today, and the very conscious planning of the 1960s temple to parking opposite.


This One Speaks For Itself, Doesn't It?

Lee Circle, Central Leicester, October 2014


I don’t know what the plans are for Crown House, (although the hoardings around what is now an exclusion zone, don’t bode well).  For now, I must confess, it fascinates me in its decaying state far more than when in use.  The view from the car park allowed me to document the rich textural interest now evident at ground level, where certain sections have already been removed, and the increasing variation in the strict grid of its façade, - created as windows are gradually broken or boarded up.



Crown House, Central Leicester, November 2014


Beyond the Multi-Story, on the other side of Lee Circle, lies a rather beautiful building that once housed Leicester’s main Telephone Exchange.  This is an example of a lighter, earlier tradition of Modernism than the sullen Brutalism of Crown House.  It displays the influence of Scandinavian design and a hint of the ocean liner or seaside aesthetic that once reflected a more pleasure-seeking aspect of Modernism.  This is reinforced by the off-white paint that coats its concrete.  That paint is fairly clean, and the building well maintained, having been redeveloped as an apartment block in recent years.  In that respect, it represents somewhat misplaced, pre-recession attempts to gentrify a neighbourhood that, for now, remains resolutely down-at-heel.


Redeveloped Telephone Exchange, Lee Circle, Central Leicester, November 2014


A couple of other notable, slightly more distant landmarks caught my eye in passing, as I looked out from Lee Circle Car Park.  One is the impassive, slab-sided stump of The Cardinal Exchange Tower, - another telecoms-related building that, I assume, replaced the earlier exchange as the telephone network expanded.  It’s closer to Crown House in its stern aesthetic, and even taller, remaining a powerful presence on the Leicester skyline.


Redeveloped Telephone Exchange, With Newer Cardinal Exchange Tower Beyond,
Central Leicester, November 2014


Of rather more ruin appeal is another, slightly alarming multi-story car park edifice, situated a little to the north east of Lee Circle, between Abbey Street and Garden Street.  If the aesthetics of Lee Circle divide opinion, it’s probably fair to say only an architect’s mother could have loved this one - even in the 1960s.  It’s another example of how central the car was to the thinking of urban planners of the period, this time featuring a hotel (most recently, the Sky Plaza), perched inelegantly on top of a distinctly rickety looking multi-deck parking structure.  It’s been empty since a fire in 2012, but is clearly visited in its increasingly disheveled, current incarnation by Urban Explorers and Graffiti Writers.


Sky Plaza Hotel & Car Park Building, Central Leicester, November 2014


Looking out from Lee Circle, towards the Sky Plaza building, you can almost sense the two monuments to a past era speak to each other of lost optimism across the intervening rooftops of a more disappointed age.  With my fantasy head on, the Sky Plaza building even feels a little like some post-apocalyptic rampart, - rising from a decaying cityscape.  Re-imagined in a suitable dystopian SF novel or film, it might be peopled by refugees, survivalists, anarchists, mutants, or who knows what?


Multi-Story Car Park, Lee Circle, Central Leicester, November 2014




[1.]:  I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened as I’ve been out and about with my cameras, in locations clearly not commonly regarded as standard photographic subject matter.  Most recently, two Police Officers interrupted me; keen to know why I was filming in a desolate Leicester underpass.  In fairness, they were nice as pie and professed to be merely intrigued.  Generally, I find that claiming to be “An Artist, - recording my surroundings”, satisfies both authority figures and curious members of the public, who (I imagine) probably go on their way convinced they’ve just encountered a harmless nutter.

[2.]:  Of course, very few subjects can be said to be completely static.  One theme that has already emerged, as I’ve filmed in various locations, is the wealth of nuances, perceptual shifts, micro-actions and implied events that often reveal themselves in nominally motionless, environmental subjects.  Having got my eye (and ear) in, I often find that the smallest movements, changes in illumination, fugitive cast shadows, or passing sounds, begin to feel like major events. 

[3.]:  Does this make me a Nurb?




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