Paradise Lost & Found?

All Main Images: Paradise Circus, Central Birmingham, March 2016

Well, it’s (relatively) early days yet, but it looks like I’ll be exhibiting again, later in the year.  The plan is to do a three-handed show in early September, with my Birmingham-based friends Shaun Morris and AndrewSmith, (both of whose work I’ve showcased regularly on here).  The Location will be Artist’s Workhouse in Studley, Warwickshire.  We went over to check out the gallery, and meet Artist/Curator Dawn Harris, (and lay a few speculative plans), the other day.

It feels good to have a new, specific target in view, and a reason to put a little more impetus behind my ongoing work.  Things have been progressing in a satisfactory, if relatively unhurried manner during the first quarter of the year. Now it’s time to change up another gear, in order to the make the most of this opportunity.

Actually, as I move psychologically from last year’s ‘Mental Mapping’ show, (with Andrew), to this next venture, it feels like the main task is to get into a kind of steady rhythm with all this exhibiting lark.  My aspiration is to reach a situation where phases of pure production, and of going public, grow organically out of each other as an ongoing process, (you know, - like a grown-up artist).  My instinct is that exhibiting should become a natural part of the whole deal, and one which involves a commensurate level of energy and emotional investment, without leaving one a feeling burnt-out in the aftermath.  I’m sure old hands would find this pretty obvious, but I still think of myself as being on a fairly steep section of the learning curve.

Clues Everywhere: "Where Commerce Meets Culture"

And Who Could Resist "The £500m Redevelopment Of Paradise"?

Anyway, this definitely feels like an exciting next step, and I’m sure I’ll be writing more posts about our show, as the weeks go by.  For now, I want to take a slight detour, and mention what happened in Birmingham after my discussions with Shaun and Andrew were complete.

Behind Those Windows Was The Yardbird Club; A Place Which Really Could Be Paradise On
Any Given Night

With a few hours to spare, and favourable lighting conditions, I headed into the City Centre, to see how the demolition of the old Birmingham Central Library complex, at Paradise Circus, was progressing.  I’ve talked about, (and, indeed photographed and filmed) this site, on numerous occasions, and its passing feels more than a little significant.  This goes way beyond my personal responses; and the passing of what was either a masterpiece of Brutalist Modernism, or a dismal, neglected eyesore, (or both), seems somehow symbolic of social, philosophical and political change in a much broader context.

Big - Art Project, Or Big Art - Project?

Anyway, whatever the pros and cons, the removal of John Madin’s landmark building is inescapable.  Indeed, a significant portion of the dramatic edifice is already reduced to a pile of concrete rubble.  Actually, my timing felt pretty good, - with the interplay of wrecked sections and those still standing creating plenty of visual drama.  However, as is always the case at such sites, the inevitable walled-off exclusion zone, and my lack of a decent long lens meant really good views and compositions were a bit limited.  The shots I took tell the story, but aren’t necessarily the best I’ll ever take.  My response to this was to get a bit visually ‘meta’, pausing to capture the abundant information graphics, and the abstract delights of the safety fencing, in addition to the main event.

An As-Yet Untouched Corner Of The Complex 

And Another.  I love The Way They Just Arbitrarily Boshed The (Once) New Into The Old

It’s hard not to be struck by the extent of all the PR branding surrounding what we are already being prompted to think of as ‘Paradise’.  It’ll always be Paradise Circus to me, not least because the cyclical reinterpretation of what Paradise might actually imply to different generations, does actually feel like a bit of a circus.  Utopia can never be more than a mental construct, after all.  As ever, it’s as much about the competing meanings, spectacles, and Psychogeographical resonances, as it is the practical or expedient realities.

For what it’s worth, my immediate reaction to the numerous artist’s impressions dotted around the site, is that what replaces the old concrete Ziggurat may be little more than just another generic glass box, filled with the usual offices and retail outlets.  This objection to an ever-encroaching corporate blandness is something many have raised in recent years, but it’s also important to recognise that what you are reading here are equally the observations of a middle-aged bloke, with a weakness for dystopian spectacle, watching the landscape of his early years gradually being erased.  Ultimately, the significance, or otherwise, to real people’s lives, of either the old building or what replaces it, is for the people of Birmingham to decide.

In the context of all this, the most moving moment came as I dropped down into the service yard of the adjacent Copthorn Hotel, in search of more camera angles.  I fell into conversation with one of the demolition workers, - clearly a local guy, who spoke in a very informed manner about the old building’s history.  It was clearly an important landmark in his own local mental map, and he expressed regret that the original architectural vision was compromised by budget constraints from the very start, - but also, his remorse at participating in its destruction.  He kindly handed me a fragment of concrete from the rubble as a souvenir, and we parted by recognising that, if nothing else, it was all keeping him in employment for the time being.  I often talk about my fascination with the perpetual processes of transformation at work in urban environments, but this took it all to a far more human level than normal.

Postscript:

Having orbiting the entire site, and gathered what images I could, I left Birmingham, via Spaghetti Junction, and drove on to Nottingham for a little more social activity.  That included watching Ben Wheatley’s newly released film adaptation of Ballard’s ‘HighRise’ [1.].  This isn’t the place for a full review, (I enjoyed it), but it’s worth reflecting that the concerns of ‘High Rise’ chime more than a little with some of the above.  My journey even included extended delays on the M6, caused by a distinctly Ballardian road accident.  Once again, things just seemed to join up.

[1.]:  Ben Wheatley (Dir.), ‘High Rise’, UK, Recorded Picture Co./British Film Institute/Film 4, 2016.

Paradise Lost?

Paradise Forum, Central Birmingham, October 2015

As mentioned in a previous post, I recently made one of my regular trips over to Birmingham, partly to take in Fiona Banner’s ‘Scroll Down And Keep Scrolling’ exhibition.  The other reason was to catch up with my recent co-exhibitor, Andrew Smith, for a bit of a chinwag.

That’s something we’d been meaning to do shortly after our ‘Mental Mapping’ exhibition came down in June but, in the event, we’d both been plagued by various ailments, aches, pains and other distractions over summer, meaning it was long overdue.  Although we’ve hooked up on numerous occasions over the last 12 months, it occurred to me that this was the first time we’d been able to just relax over a couple of beers, with no need to take care of practical arrangements or remain conscious of lurking deadlines.  As it turned out, we both spent time with Ms. Banner, before retiring to discuss our thoughts about her work, in addition to a general catch-up and a bit of putting the world to rights.  Very enjoyable it was too.

Paradise Forum, Central Birmingham, October 2015

I’ve always valued having contact with people who aren’t put off when conversation ventures out into slightly deeper waters, and who can discuss Art, Literature, Cinema, Music, etc. from a similar, (if not greater), knowledge base than my own.  Andrew certainly fits into that category and, hopefully, it won’t be the last time we can chew the fat in that way.  It was encouraging to find that we’re both starting to reach out tentatively towards new phases of our respective artwork, so I’ll be interested to see what he’s been working on over the coming months.  I’ve already stated more than once, the whole experience of collaborating on ‘Mental Mapping’ was a very positive one for me, not least our jointly produced video ‘Orfeo’, so who knows? – Maybe we’ll find an opportunity to pool our creative energies again in the future.  ‘Orfeo 2’, anyone? - be like that then!

As it turned out, I probably didn’t venture more than half a mile from my car all day but, as the sinking sun put on a particularly fiery late-afternoon light show, I did take a small detour, returning via Birmingham’s soon-to-be redeveloped Paradise Circus complex.  This is probably one of the most evocative bits of ‘failed’ Utopian Modernism in the country, and one that I’ve returned to with fascination over the last few years.

Central Library Building, Paradise Circus, Central Birmingham, October 2015

I can’t expect everyone to revel in the picturesque squalor of its latter years, as I do, and I’m sure that, for many Brummies, it’s been a perceived blight on the local landscape for some time.  However, many still find something genuinely audacious in the resolute Brutalist design of the original project, and in the idealistic vision such developments represented, (at least in part), in Post-War Britain.  Despite the grime and dereliction that overtook its immediate environs, and apparent compromises over original build quality, the inverted ziggurat of John Madin’s Central Library building remains one of the most striking bits of high Modernist architecture ever realised in Britain.

I’ve written about all this before, both in connection with my own inner-city reveries, and with John Grindrod’s enjoyable survey of the field, ‘Concretopia’ [1.].  I can’t pretend that I don’t feel my age somewhat, as more and more of this supposedly discredited architecture is swept away.  That was the world I was born into, after all, and the social and political assumptions of the age, however outdated, still colour many of my own attitudes in one way or another [2.].  Of course, I have to admit that there may also be more than a little dystopian thrill seeking involved too.  All that self-indulgent, vicarious alienation can be highly enjoyable, at least until one has to live with it practically, on a daily basis, (as I recently discovered not long ago).  Put even more baldly, maybe I’m just a sucker for a good ruin.

Library Of Birmingham, October, 2015

Anyway, Birmingham has newer, glossier theatres and libraries now, just a stone’s throw away, although I note with weary resignation that the new library is already feeling the financial pinch as the Government seeks to remove public funding from anything genuinely worth nurturing.  Younger generations, or those drawn only to the city’s temples of retail commerce, may even feel that such things are an irrelevance altogether, for all I know.

Central Library Building, Central Birmingham, October 2015

Either way, I had fully expected to find demolition work in full swing in Paradise during this visit.  As it turns out, although the extensive barricading and publicity material relating to future plans indicated very imminent movement, it was still possible to walk through Paradise Forum, and even a little way round the side of the complex, in search of a few very last photographs of it in its complete state.

Even more intriguingly, I was invited to contribute to an on-line petition opposing the demolition scheme, even more recently.  However, Wikipedia suggests that any such attempts were in vain, and I suspect that events will have moved on apace the next time I’m over that way.

Paradise Forum, Central Birmingham, October 2015

[1.]:  John Grindrod, 'Concretopia: A Journey Around The Rebuilding Of Post War Britain', Brecon, Old Street Publishing Ltd., 2013

[2.]:  It feels like the more self-consciously future-facing the zeitgeist, the more readily and rapidly it becomes obsolete.  Others, more perceptive than I, have explored this idea of a lost future in some depth; notably Mark Fisher in:  ‘Ghosts Of My Life: Writings On Depression, Hauntology And Lost Futures’, Winchester Hants, Zero Books, 2014.  Vestigial Modernists on the political Left, such as Fisher, suggest that we have replaced utopian futurism with a hypnotised sense of ‘no future’ at all.