30 Oct 2011

Lincoln – a success story

By Adrian Jones & Chris Matthews


Lincoln contemporary - The Terrace

Lincolnshire, the second largest historic county, is the English equivalent of a fly-over state. Agricultural, sparsely populated and often dismissed as flat and boring it is off the motorway network and not on the metropolitan radar. It is true that much of Lincolnshire is flat although with big, dramatic skies and its own austere beauty. But it also contains the limestone uplands which are a continuation of the Cotswolds and with similar picture postcard villages and towns like Stamford, whilst the Lincolnshire Wolds with their wonderfully bare contours, long views and far-away feel are one of the great joys of the English countryside. But life in the working countryside was and is far from idyllic. My uncle, a GP in rural Lincs, told harrowing tales of farm workers who could not afford medical treatment in the days before Aneurin Bevan set up the NHS which has done so much to improve the quality of peoples’ lives. Now few are directly employed in agriculture and as Rem Koolhaas rightly analyses the countryside is changing more radically than our cities.


The Arboretum - one of the great Victorian public parks c.1872

The largest town in Lincolnshire is actually Grimsby, well on the way to Iceland, but at the centre of the county is the city of Lincoln. What is striking about Lincoln is that it is a really vibrant, busy place –maybe rather old fashioned in some ways but in other respects self confident and cutting edge. What is the secret of its success? Well, there are lots of reasons but some good planning is one of them, which is not to say there aren’t some shockers too. Nevertheless many towns could learn from its example. What has been particularly successful is the implementation of the Linking Lincoln masterplan, steadily pursuing an agenda of people-friendly places and design excellence.


Contrast #1: The gap - Brayford Pool

Lincoln is very definitely a town of two halves and two characters, quite a violent collision between South and North, Barchester and Doncaster, the Lincoln Edge and the Witham Gap, Above Bar and Below Bar. It is not a large town – even with its suburbs beyond the city boundary the population is only about 120,000 – but it is the busy centre of a very large hinterland. Most people’s image of the place will be a Beautiful Britain photograph of Lincoln Cathedral rising above Steep Hill – an unforgettable silhouette. Pevsner begins thus: ‘Apart from Durham there is no English Cathedral so spectacularly placed’. It is certainly one of the very grandest and finest of English cathedrals and there are magnificent views of it from the surrounding countryside. In some directions the cathedral’s dominance is challenged by the distant power stations along the Trent Valley. My uncle, who as well as being an avid supporter of the NHS, was also a keen antiquarian and paradoxically a modernist used to declare ‘that cathedral spoils the view of the power station’, which as an impressionable young boy I took as an amazing insight, although in retrospect I think he was joking.


Contrast #2: The edge - Greestone Place

The Cathedral with its Close, the Castle and the attractive Bailgate area sits high up on the Lincoln Edge, surveying the town in the Witham valley below. You can see why the Romans and then the Normans chose this commanding location. Lincoln was a hub of Roman communications at the junction of Ermine Street and the Fosse Way and they also built a canal, the Fossdyke, connecting the Trent to the Witham at Brayford Pool, one of the important features of modern Lincoln and focus of the new university. The town was also a major railway centre with big yards and sheds south of Brayford Pool reinforcing the north – south divide in the town. Along the railways and waterways big engineering and agricultural machinery works were built. The first tanks were made in Lincoln, rather reversing the biblical adage about swords and ploughshares. This duality between the cathedral city and the manufacturing town is not unique to Lincoln but is particularly pronounced because of the topography – the two halves see each other but are disconnected and vertically segregated. The duality is also expressed in the suburban form – orderly and compact in north Lincoln, loose and straggling south of the Fossdyke.


Independent retail-o-rama (or how to make Nottingham jealous) 

Lincoln is a bustling market town and pleasingly not completely dominated by supermarkets and chain retailers. There are lots of independent shops – it is quite a foodie place especially for meat eaters with all those rustic sausages, pork pies and local specialties like chine. There are lots of interesting restaurants and cafes too, although the bar scene is fairly dominated by studenty chains. In the Bailgate area and around the market you will find the sort of quirky shops that are squeezed out of most city centres.


William Watkins fin de siècle  

The High Street is immensely long and straight but divided into three sections - by a somewhat surreal and very inconvenient level crossing next to the Station and also by the medieval Stonebow. This is the boundary between the working town (Below Bar) and the ecclesiastical town (Above Bar). The High Street also features a black and white timbered ‘inhabited bridge’ at High Bridge over the Witham, a unique survival although much was restored at the turn of the 20th century. North of the railway High Street is pedestrianised and remarkably coherent with some fine fin de siècle commercial buildings by William Watkins. There are few bad buildings.


The Jacobean Lincoln Market

The grand Victorian market hall opens off Cornhill and beyond this is a new square next to the Witham – a nice space but rather let down by the quality of the new buildings around it. The massive public artwork is presumably as homage to former engineering glory. On the north bank is the Waterside shopping centre which could be described as post modern contextual. Betjeman would have quite enjoyed its whimsy and pot pourri of references. The good thing is that it both fits into the street scene quite well and is in the right size and the right location to strengthen the traditional shopping area unlike say Derby or Doncaster with their destructive edge of centre shopping monsters. The proposed Lindongate shopping centre behind Sincil Street, which would replace the squalid bus station, is plausible in concept but the application is in outline only. Everything depends on the details.


Norman sprawl - High Street

The railway and parallel inner ring road rather cut off the long but interesting southwards straggle of High Street. This was a medieval suburb and you get a sense of the old Roman route approaching a town which grew considerably during the economic boom years of the wool trade preceding the Black Death. It still contains interesting survivals like St Mary’s Guildhall and the adjoining church. The more recent buildings are a friendly jostle of styles with many pubs and chapels competing for custom. Despite the fracture from the main centre the street is surprisingly busy, in part helped by the St Marks shopping centre, a strange but in some ways quite creditable construct – a neo classical retail park. The inspiration is the elegant, severely classical 1840s former St Marks station, the front range of which is preserved but emasculated as a Lakeland store and altogether too hemmed in by cruder imitations. However there is a real attempt at urbanity here with even a small garden square.


Wake up Paxo, this is a Lord Wolfson landscape

Compare and contrast with the massive sprawl of excremental, parasitic retail parks along the adjacent relief road’, which needless to say is clogged by traffic from their endless car parks. Of course this degraded scene, which could be anywhere and is everywhere, is the product of a planning system for which ‘NO’ is allegedly the default answer. IF ONLY. Yet Lord Wolfson of Next interviewed on Newsnight smirkingly claims that the planning system needs to be reformed (scrapped) because it is stopping him building enough out of town stores to bring us out of the recession. And Paxo let him get away with it.


Lo and behold: a new in-house designed, city centre university.

I don’t know how well Lincoln did on Paxo’s University Challenge but the new university is certainly a big thing for the city. Initially set up in 1996 as a branch of Humberside University, it expanded hugely in 2002 when the main Hull operation was transferred to Lincoln. There are now 10,000 students. The campus on the old railway yards south of the Brayford Pool is well chosen, close to the city centre and with inspiring views of the cathedral, but not without challenges, perhaps the least of which is that the southern edge is formed by the moronic retail parks referred to above. A bigger problem is that the campus is bisected by the railway and a road viaduct spanning the railway and the Fossdyke.


Connecting the Foss Dyke with Holland

The initial university campus was between the Brayford Pool and the railway. West of the viaduct and next to the Fossdyke are very pleasing student residences, responding to their Dutch-like environment with restraint and simple clarity of design. Later phases are more fussy. The expansion of the campus to the other side of the railway tracks was masterplanned by Rick Mather. He also designed the Architecture School which is pure white cubes as you would expect - the yellow and orange chairs in the foyer look like a shocking affront. Allies and Morrison have produced a further masterplan to expand the campus onto the sea of surrounding car parks. They also designed the Engineering Building which has satisfying windows onto great big machine workshops.


Cheap and cheerful - pastiche modern

The most impressive buildings are actually conversions of old railway structures. The Engine Shed is almost completely swathed in glassy additions to provide a new Students’ Union whilst the Great Central Warehouse has been very attractively converted to the University Library, clearly displaying its structure but with new pods added, echoing railway lucams. These are either side of a wide new pedestrian bridge over the Witham that forms part of a new quad for the university. Beyond is the shiny Lincoln Performing Arts building. All were designed by STEM Architects, as was the sparky but slightly disturbing Alsopesque construct ‘Enterprise@Lincoln’ next to the library. This is one of an impressive number of innovative workspaces commissioned by the university and the city, which also includes Marks Barfield’s iridescent Think Tank.


Yeah, I must get round to doing the landscaping - Architecture Building

The university has had a hugely positive effect on Lincoln – 3,000 jobs for a start - and its lively impact is very noticeable in the town centre. Compare this to Norwich, in some ways a bigger version of Lincoln, where UEA is very definitely a place apart. The scale of its expansion is impressive but the campus does at times seem hurried, cheap and cheerful – the IKEA of academia. This is particularly the case with the mean landscaping and paving although the new masterplan promises to rectify this. It is also disappointing that after an impressive start with student residences the usual barrack blocks now dominate. The Pavilions ‘student village’ has the cheek to weakly reference the engineering shed typology of its near neighbours.


'A new Odeon will really kick start Lincoln". Bygone desperation.

It is also unfortunate that the quality of development across the Brayford Pool from the university is so crass. Brayford Wharf North is a hotchpotch of chain bars and restaurants with an overpowering Odeon box dominating the view. However you will find the interesting former car showrooms now converted to restaurants by local, late, architect Sam Scorer, most famed for his parabolic roofed Little Chef on the A1. On Brayford Wharf East Pevsner noted fine C18th and C19th warehouses which were destroyed for the inner ring road and replaced with utter banality, an act of terrible vandalism from an era when this was the norm. Imaginative proposals to redevelop this as a proper framework of streets and buildings have been put forward by Linking Lincoln - let us pray that they can be achieved. This would make a huge difference to the coherence of Lincoln.


Times New Roman - the strength and subtlety of the paving (Bailgate)

Despite Linking Lincoln the highway authority is schizophrenic in its approach. On the one hand there are excellent paving schemes creating really pleasant and attractive public spaces. The most extensive is around the Cathedral Close, where Pevsner complained about the incessant traffic, and the adjacent Bailgate area. This includes a very pleasant new square just north of the Castle which features a Roman well. It leads to the wonderfully massive stone water tower designed by Blomfield in 1911. The southern High Street is also being calmed with a very effective, simple paving scheme, whilst Flaxengate which leads to the Collection (see below) is a model of how to provide desire line pedestrian crossings and unfussy quality paving.


The quiet revolution: paving, traffic calming and desire line crossing

On the other hand, traffic is very dominant in much of the city centre. The County have grand plans for a new eastern bypass and then for a southern bypass which will allegedly solve this problem whilst opening up large areas for housing development. This is the usual story but in reality the additional bypass will only make Lincoln yet more car dependant and spawn new car centric housing developments impossible to serve by efficient public transport. The usual plethora of subtopia cul-de-sac Lego land going up inside the existing ring road shows us what to expect. Nowhere is safe. Certainly public transport is not the best thing about Lincoln – that there are no buses after 7pm gives you a measure of how poor it is. So when the County claim that the new bypass is really needed to enable public transport priorities I think we can safely conclude they are having a laugh.


A builders arse - new flats marring the famous view

Rail services are also poor. The impact of the railways for Lincoln is profound and perverse. The city is off the main line so you arrive by slow train (the only kind and not as delightful as Betjeman would have you believe) at the picturesque but rather inadequate Tudor style Central Station, surprisingly designed by Cubitt. The inconvenient level crossing of High Street is one of the big planning problems of Lincoln. Network Rail plan to divert more freight trains through the city in order to free up capacity on the East Coast main line, so the level crossing will be almost permanently closed. At the same time the rail industry has reneged on the promise of new direct trains from London, absurdly terminating them at Newark which already had an excellent service. Lincoln used to have a freight line bypass but this was foolishly closed. If St Marks station had been retained and expanded rather than Central then a far better university site would have been possible but this opportunity was lost, so Lincoln is stuck with a very disruptive railway line and yet a branch line service.


Northern Europe is this way - Waterside South

Pelham Bridge, a long curving viaduct from 1958, provides a fine view of the Cathedral, the whole of the south front with the medieval buildings hanging on the hillside. There is also a good view from the elegant concrete pedestrian bridge over the dual carriageway leading to Waterside although somewhat marred by an appalling new block of flats in strident bands of yellow and red brick. On Waterside is the magnificent Flemish style grey brick mill of 1863. Beyond is a large Siemens complex where encouragingly substantial building improvements are in progress.


City living with civic sense - Museum Court

Back across the dual carriageway we find Blomfield’s 1906 domed public library on Free School Lane with the fun Jacobean Co-operative opposite and streetscape pierced by St Swithin’s spire. Next to it is the Drill Hall, an excellent refurbishment of 2004 which has created a welcoming multi function events space. This is one of a number of initiatives which have really raised the cultural profile of Lincoln. The cultural provision and urbanism north off Flaxengate restores your faith in C21st civilisation. The Terrace by Bauman Lyons is contemporary and contextual; limestone, street pattern, light, subtlety, and precision. Publicly funded, it successfully houses a café with around fifty studio spaces for the creative sector. Neighbouring this is Museum Court by Jonathan Hendry architects, which shows a confidence in the proportions of a Georgian terrace and the considered decisions of a minimalist. It is billed in the twatish Thatcherite language of estate agents as ‘executive accommodation’ and yet it is actually trying to instil some sort of civic sense. You can but try.


The Collection: playing with restriction (and not making parametric crap up) 

The Collection by Panter Hudspith Architects is the star at the centre of all this and easily one of the best recent buildings in the country. Whereas the Terrace and Museum Court pay lip service to the context, The Collection plays with the rules of its circumstances – a limestone declivio with DeWint views - without degenerating into a Zaha ego trip of pointless angles. On the other side of Danesgate, the older Usher Gallery shows Blomfield’s consistent classical stubbornness for 1927, but who really cares about the Zeitgeist with neighbours like these? The cumbersome extension has been removed, a new entrance has been built to face the street and the park opened up so now the gallery clearly sits below the hill in the hollow of a delightful garden. This is all thanks to local authority town planning, and not the chaos of the free market, dear Messrs Pickles and Shapps. The art collection here is outstanding for a city the size of Lincoln including the likes of Ben Nicholson, John Piper and Hockney.


This is town planning (but shame about the security camera)

During a recent 20th Century Society tour, Bobby Drake talked about the decline in committed and informed people (especially those with money) who are active in the arts and local affairs. With this is mind, the Sam Scorer gallery and his house off Gilbralter Hill are relics from a bygone age but staring at a painting of this architect by Tony Bartle in the Usher Gallery I realise this may be the centre of an admirable revival.


Chocolate box stuff but where are the sweet toothed tourists?

Whichever of the several picturesque ways you choose it is a steep climb up the hill to the Cathedral. This is an overwhelming building even for a godless person like me, staggering in its certainties and technical precocity. Was the young Scorer staring at the hyperparabolic forms of the vaulting all those years ago? What can I add to Pevsner and others - nothing. Just don’t forget the Wren Library and the 1959 Duncan Grant mural in the St Blaise chapel with its muscular young men considered so outré by the church authorities that for decades the chapel was closed to the public.


Nosey parker - overlooking the arboretum 

The Cathedral is wonderful, magnificent, transcending …. but in some respects the real glory of Lincoln is its housing. Few places can boast such consistently pleasant residential areas. This is of course a huge generalisation but the Cathedral Close must be as about as des res as you can get. Houses from the C18th to the present on the steep winding alleys below the Cathedral and the Castle command staggering views. Much of the Victorian and Edwardian town looks really, really pleasant. To the east of the Cathedral off Monks Road is the Arboretum, a fine Victorian park designed by Edward Milner, an apprentice of Joseph Paxton. To the north are the mansions where the masters of the engineering works lived. To the south are the tight terraces for the workers but far, far better than the equivalent housing in cities like Nottingham. It still feels like a good area with lots of local facilities, like the Co-op supermarket in a converted chapel. In the changing levels of the west end ‘muesli belt’ you can look out towards West Common and pretend that interwar subtopia never happened. South of the town Swanpool Garden Suburb is a small piece of Hampstead Garden Suburb or Welwyn Garden City.


Pinch yourself - the past thirty years never happened 

Perhaps the most uplifting, miraculous place of all is the Ermine Estate, built mainly between 1952 and 1958, and you might say much like any other low rise council estate of that era with its mix of terraces, low rise flats and bungalows. Except that Ermine still works – no signs of vandalism or anti social behaviour, no graffiti, no Alice Coleman interventions and, can you believe it, no security cameras. Open plan lawns and communal areas are well kept. There is a shopping parade including a butcher’s, green grocer’s, Co-op and Post Office, a community centre, library and several churches including Sam Scorer’s St John the Baptist (1963). This extraordinary building is conceived as a tent rather than a temple, and has a complex hexagonal geometry with the congregation on three sides around the sanctuary. Light floods in through the glorious east window – a very intimate and inclusive space and a genuine heart of the community.


Social democracy is alive and well and living in Ermine

Ermine is social housing as it was meant to be and it has survived for 50 years – not pristine but clearly a place that really works. Compare and contrast this with so many other estates – King’s Heath, Northampton for example which was planned so carefully but still ended up a problem estate. Lincoln clearly did something right at Ermine – like manage and maintain it.


A must see: The east window by Keith New (St John the Baptist)

Actually Lincoln has done a lot of things right. It has shown vision, ambition, tenacity and application, good strategic planning and attention to detail. Obviously there have been mistakes and lost opportunities but a small city that can commission buildings of the quality of the Terrace and the Collection has got a lot to be proud of.

References:



N. Pevsner & J. Harris, Lincolnshire

A. Walker (ed.), Survey of Lincoln Series

A. Rodgers, Lincolnshire
K. Szynalska, Sam Scorer
H. Thorold, Lincolnshire Shell Guide

25 Sept 2011

Glasgow - city of misguided ambitions


The power of the grid - St Vincent Street

I find geology hard to grasp – those incomprehensible time scales all in three dimensions. But I have just about got the concept of continental drift, which tells us that Scotland used to be part of North America. If you go to Glasgow this looks obvious. It has the feel of an American city – the grid, the scale, the dynamism, the self reliance. Visiting in August Brad Pitt was also there filming with Glasgow as a stand in for Philadelphia. Glasgow architecture and design up to the mid C20th ran on a quite different, more progressive, tangent to that of London and England.


Dear Zaha, this city doesn't need you - Botanic Gardens

Glasgow, the second city of the Empire, was once the fourth largest city in Europe and is still, inevitably after London, the most exciting city in Britain. Ian Nairn wrote ' Glasgow was a shock to me' and probably having just read that I persuaded my older brother who had no interest in architecture but had just passed his test to drive up there. After a fairly hair raising journey without a map we found ourselves at night in a townscape of wide streets and soot blackened tenements. We were in the Gorbals just before the wrecking ball. I had never seen anything like it. However crowded and mean the housing, these tenements had magnificent presence as streetscape. But that was a Glasgow in the 60s, more than half a century after its heyday and then determined to be part of the brave new post war world. This exceptional city with its unique style has for decades sought to restore prosperity and status by becoming more and more like every other big international city. So obviously it needs iconic new museums, hence the specific purpose of our visit. We went to see Zaha Hadid’s recently opened Riverside Museum, otherwise known as the Glasgow Transport Museum.


Fancy a picnic?

There is not much further that can be said about the building after that fantastic blog by Douglas Murphy well before the museum opened or the incisive review by Steve Parnell in BD. The AJ took a rather more star struck line. Clearly the museum is very popular. When we were there it was rammed, evidently mostly local people, often families with children and grandparents. Were they there because of the iconic building? I rather think not. Few people seemed to be looking at the architecture and no one else was taking photographs. The punters were totally absorbed in the exhibits which are a celebration of Glasgow, Glasgow engineering, Glaswegian skills and Glasgow of a bygone age. There is an awful lot here to be proud of and Glaswegians are rightly proud of it.


Cardiff Bay again

But what can you make of the building and more importantly its brief and its location?
Well one thing is certain - the location is crap, about as bleak and inaccessible as you could possibly imagine. Don’t think South Bank promenade - think Clyde Expressway. Its location at the confluence of the Clyde and the Kelvin famously or fatuously inspired the twisted architectural concept of the building. To either side are vast areas of dereliction with some apartment blocks in the distance, presumably the first phase of yet another vibrant waterside chimera which promises to provide a Clydeside walkway and a new bridge across the Kelvin to the museum. Back towards the city centre, if you could reach it, is that other icon – the Scottish Exhibition Convention Centre Armadillo by Norman Foster. This too is stranded on the wrong side of the Clyde Expressway and surrounded by car parks. The Riverside Museum stares at Govan on the opposite bank across a surprisingly narrow Clyde. (How on earth did they launch those huge ships? I think the answer is sideways.) Govan is of course home to Rab C. Nesbitt. His views on his new view are not yet known but can be imagined from his hilarious take on Glasgow’s stint as European City of Culture in 1990.


The ominous pedestrian approach beneath the expressway

Partick is the nearest station – about 10 minutes walk away, served by suburban trains and the famous 'Clockwork Orange' Subway, a circular line which makes the London tube seem generously proportioned. (It manages to miss the main line Central station and is a very bumpy ride but frequent, cheap and fun.) However signage from the station is so discreet we were lucky to find a very helpful Big Issue seller to direct us – across the expressway, alongside the expressway and then across the dereliction to the car park. It was a gloomy day, but the approach is really dismal. The museum looks lost and insignificant set in this wasteland. The arrival square is as bleak and utilitarian as it is possible to imagine, animated only by burger vans. The building looks blank – black glass entrance and acres of zinc panels. A ‘fuck off’ building if I have ever seen one. However it does look much better from the riverside where the drama of the crumpled roof is helped by viewing it from closer quarters whilst the tall sailing ship moored alongside reflects in the black glass. But basically this is a shed and, despite the interest of the squiggle, a pretty hostile one.


A parametric paradigma of the wheelie bins. 

Internally the overwhelming impression is of clutter and crowds, making it difficult to enjoy the space. The drama of the roof is best seen from the narrow gallery leading to the Tall Ship entrance and from the mezzanine bridge. The choice of near universal pistachio for the walls is daring but I thought effective although Chris said it made him visually sick. Overall the impression is of a pretty basic building with little evidence of the architects’ care and commitment such as you find in, say, Benson and Forsyth’s wonderful Museum of Scotland or Adam Caruso’s Nottingham Contemporary or indeed Barry Gasson’s 1983 Burrell Collection in nearby Pollock Park. There are a few nice touches like the seats on the deep window reveals, some of which frame good views along the river, and the art deco-like stairs. But overall you get the feeling that the starchitect, having had the iconic idea, moved on to some more lucrative project and didn’t really bother with the detail. Hence the wheelie bins for litter outside the main entrance, ruining my shot.


Cramming it all in

There is no doubt that the building does what is asked of it – which is to attract attention. But in the long term how suitable is it as a transport museum? Well the squiggly shape does at least inject some element of movement which is fairly important for a transport museum and is conspicuously lacking in the displays themselves. The main problem is that this expensive shed is just not big enough for the exhibits. Some of these things are huge – like the railway engines and the tramcars – but they are all crowded in on top of each other. The star attraction, the South African locomotive, particularly needs some space but is not given any. It is jam packed next to a Glasgow double-decker tram which itself is worthy of a bit more dignity. Vintage cars are perched on shelves up a wall. The bikes are displayed as an aerial sculpture, which is good as art but might you not want to look at the bikes themselves?


Ego before social history

There is a huge issue with the brief for the museum - Stephen Greenberg explains why in BD and it is fairly chilling. A deliberate decision to go for the iconic building which hobbles the exhibits rather than re-using an original ship building shed which would have provided the space and opportunity to explore Glasgow’s transport, engineering and social history expansively.


Ever wondered what a still skateboarder looked like?

Apart from the lack of space and the confines imposed by Zaha’s building there is a real problem with the unimaginative approach to displays. Actually the excellent artefacts were much beter displayed in the old, unassuming, transport museum where you could get a decent look at them. There is a real lack of the kinetic – everything is static apart from the brilliant models of all those ships launched on the Clyde which pass on a conveyor bringing up just the right amount of information as they pass. You could watch all day. But nothing else moves. There is even a tableau of skate boarding for God’s sake – have they never thought of video?


Nuff said

The thing is there are just so many good here which is not properly explored. For example Glasgow’s public transport never really recovered from the abandonment of the tram network – the largest outside London and the last to be scrapped in the 60s. There is a fascinating film by Kevin Brownlow about the last days of the ‘caurs’. Apparently the women tram drivers lost their jobs – they could drive trams but not buses, a fact which suggests there has been some progress in the last 50 years. I nearly missed a breathtaking Stanley Spencer panel on shipbuilding (or shipbuilders) commissioned as part of the war effort. It is there but has not space or prominence, nor does it lead us to those amazingly potent narratives behind the paintings.


Transport policy outside City Chambers

There is a sense that this project exemplifies a City that has lost its way and especially lost its way in how it deals with its transport, connectivity and the public realm. It is a city, even more than most others in Britain, in love with the car. Ironically Glasgow is still a compact, dense city but its structure is mutilated by motorways and its fine streets largely given over to the dominance of cars. The building of the M8 across the city centre in the 60s was self harm on a massive scale, and in some ways the destruction south of the river (near Mackintosh’s Scotland Street School) is even worse. But Glasgow is still doing this today with the M74 only just completed through the south east of the city – ‘a violently imposed fissure on the urban grain’ as Ellis Woodman beautifully describes it. Why would you do this in a city with one of the lowest car ownerships in the country and the largest suburban rail network outside London? It is psychopathic self harm to one of the greatest cities of Europe.


Move aside Manchester - Bank of Scotland

And that is the point. Glasgow is undoubtedly the finest city in Britain other than London, even surpassing Edinburgh. There is no doubt that it is a hard city, and one that has seen hard times as well as greatness. No Mean City indeed. The wind whistles down the grid iron streets. But actually Glasgow has reinvented itself around its exceptional artistic and cultural heritage as well as its commercial and engineering achievements. This new economy also needs to find expression in the public realm as a more relaxed place less dominated by traffic where pedestrians and cyclists can relax too, as they already do in the Merchant City. It shouldn’t be such a hassle to cross the street.


More life than the riverside - Necropolis 

Glaswegians are right to be proud of their achievements and what’s in the Riverside Museum but the building is not up to the exhibits. Certainly the idea that iconic architecture like this will kick start regeneration along a Clydeside dominated by motorways is quixotic. Glasgow has a magnificent urban structure still to work with and more than enough iconic architecture already. The priority is to make sure it keeps its character and distinctiveness. And I’m talking of the Egyptian Halls for starters.


Tenement design - more progressive than Victorian London/England

11 Sept 2011

The Universities of Leicester

By Chris Matthews



Leicester is a red brick city and appropriately home to the last of the “red brick” universities. It is also home to De Montfort University, named after the alleged progenitor of parliamentary democracy. Not surprising the history of English universities has closely chimed with the ruling class, which was slow to embrace industry and technology. It wasn't until 1871 that Oxbridge was forced by government to grant degrees to non-conformists. The University of London from its 1821 inception realised it needed to match Scotland and Europe in pioneering new subjects such as political economy and medicine. Oxbridge was stuck in a pre-industrial age, while the new northern cities had no provision to grant degrees. This problem was met by London granting affiliated degrees to provincial institutions, and eventually these college outposts grew into the "red brick" universities we know today.


A new University


Insert joke about academic insanity here - Fielding Johnson

Leicester University sits somewhere between the "plate glass" new universities of the 60s (Sussex, UEA) and those misleadingly titled "civic" or "red brick" which began out of the idealism of private industrialists (Manchester, Birmingham). As the last in line of the civic universities, Leicester is architecturally a contrasting campus. On the one hand it is an antiquarian box of tricks: an acquisitioned Prussian-style lunatic asylum, numerous nineteenth century mansions dotted about and the dour 1940s neo-Georgian stuff by Shirley Worthington (unbelievably the Ken Edwards building mimicked this in the 90s). Neighbouring the campus this pastiche continues: a memorial and gate lodges by Luytens and a pleasant neo-classical concert hall from 1913. Yet on the other hand this campus is a graphic designer’s mood board. When Leicester made the leap from College to University in 1957 Leslie Martin was appointed to create a masterplan. This resulted in a series of buildings by the very protagonists of British modernism.


For the city and the students - Victoria Park

What can be said about the individual buildings which hasn't been said already? When I was a student here I always preferred to approach the university via Victoria Park: Lasdun and Stirling's work providing a powerful backdrop to an autumn kick about or some gossipy summer lolling. Internally the relationship between the modernist towers and the park also works well. In the floors above the mezzanine of the Charles Wilson building you get a widescreen view looking south towards the central watershed of England and the blue/green subtle bowl of Leicestershire.


We can work with this - the Science Block

The other entrance is via the tree-lined University Road. Leslie Martin's science complex is unfortunately paying lip service to Luytens memorial and this mealy mouthed statement is further exacerbated by the tacky paving. Yet there is an interesting change in levels and the buildings have some contrast and rhythm. With the right kind of landscaping maybe the recently appointed Terry Farrell can reawaken this forgotten spot. The extensions to the Medical Science complex on the other side of University Way are a dire warning of the mental health of management during the last two decades, yet somehow the Richard Attenborough Arts Centre managed to sneak in. This modest modernist sits pretty between the postmodern beasts - unfortunately enveloped by car parking.


The tart in the library

I nearly didn’t write about the Engineering Building: my sorry excuse being that I was trying to discern the rest of the campus and critical praise is already plentiful (here, here and here). The job of the historian is to find interest about things which people don’t talk about. Yet I can’t avoid it. I remember from the library it was like some sort of clever tart: frustratingly leading my eye astray as I tried to trudge through that must-read journal. As the long winter nights drew in I was seduced by the glow from the crystal geometry of the workshops. Clever tart? U wot mate? It has a paradoxical wit: coherent and dynamic, distracting without being shallow – things which many iconic buildings today are not. Surprisingly Ian Nairn wasn’t charmed and though I’ve not read the Telegraph article, he is quoted as using the terms “bizarre”, “bloody minded” and “angry”. Pevsner meanwhile was full of praise.


Movement & balance

There are other moments to enjoy here which are not always on the architectural glossary of experiences. The concrete slab porch of the Museum Studies building has movement and balance, but who originally designed it? Despite the eternal wind created by the towers at the top of Mayor's Walk, the Attenborough paternoster is a lot of fun: you float above the bricky city in an open wooden box pulled by creaky ropes and as you approach the top you can see the northern end of Leicestershire: Soar becoming Trent by a steaming power station.


The Halls of Residence


Nice roof, shame about the curly fries

New student accommodation is notoriously bad and is visibly more penal than habitable. Oddly I have come to learn how lucky I was in experiencing these 1960s halls of residence first hand. Leicester University grew rapidly in the years immediately after the Second World War and the halls positioned on the outskirts of the city reflect this expansion. They are endowed with generous landscaping, large rooms, plenty of light and a clear plan.


A muted revolution

I spent a year at Digby Hall and although the head warden named Geoff liked to impose some sort of infrequent Oxbridge pretension, the halls were very convivial for socialising and maybe invoked some sort of revolution by the time the year was out. "Geoff is a cunt", was memorably burnt into the turf. Internally the dinner hall rhomboid roof is dynamic and externally the complex of is a muted Scandinavian modernism by Sheppard, Robson & Partners.


The wealth of student life (fifty years ago)

Stamford hall on the other hand doesn't do modesty. Pevsner thinks this is Lasdun’s most assured Leicester building. The mono-pitch dining hall and tiered common room terraces are asymmetrically opposed and although I’ve not been inside, there is probably an interesting play with light. The accommodation stretches out along castellated walls in a grid of playfully placed windows and round the back the external staircases and overhead bridges rise among the evergreens. Wonderful.


A lost civilisation

But what is overwhelming about Digby and Stamford compared to today’s plethora of incarceration is the sheer acres of green space. Nearer to town, College Hall by Leslie Martin and Trevor Dannat is reminiscent of Hannes Meyer’s work and is thankfully awaiting a new use as a converted conference centre. I initially feared that this building would be for the knackers’ yard, and that like the Peter Moro designed Clare Hall would be replaced by a cul-de-sac of Wimpey legoland crap off Elms Road. The rest of the halls are pretty nondescript: apart from Opal Court (Carbuncle Cup winner 2007), the unselfconscious nineteenth century mansions and the paternalist Beaumont Halls by Shirley Worthington.


The unselfconscious Leicester mansion

The main nagging problem with most of these halls is that they are positioned miles from the main campus and city centre. It was a real ball ache to make those early morning lectures; the bus forever late, full and slow. But this problem could have been ameliorated if the University and City had Dutch plans for cycling - London Road is wide enough to take it. Door to door could have been reduced from a painful hour to a casual twenty minutes. There is also a social problem, in that it alienates the students from the city by sticking them in suburbia. By the time the year was out I was desperate to escape this closeted environment.


Clarendon Park Di Dah


Frightfully lah-di-dah (I love you very much) 

Unlike Cardigan Road in Leeds, the sheer increase in the number of students has not ruined Clarendon Park. Kids still go to school here and the high street is varied and growing: there are charity bookshops, two Delis, a number of good cafes, bars and a greengrocers. Furthermore, there are still corner shops within the leafy bye-law terraces including a butchers and a real ale emporium. Unfortunately the gloriously untidy second-hand record shop has gone. Yes it does have some pretensions but socially it’s quite mixed and from here you can have an enjoyable walk into town. Sometimes I think why on earth did I leave?


Pseudo Cape Dutch – who knew?

One bored summer night me and a housemate went for a walk and noticed that the slope of Clarendon Park was like the English class system, and the higher you climbed the closer you got to wealthy Manor Park, Stoneygate and Knighton. These places are always worth a wander as you'll often find something odd like a pseudo 1920s Cape Dutch house but generally these places are neither pretentious nor opulent. Ray Gosling rightly noted in the 1960s how Leicester's non-conformist factory owners were modest in their mansions and often you barely notice anything behind the tree-lined roads.


De Montfort Industrial Aesthetic


Municipality - Hawthorn Building

Polytechnics were always more municipal and vocational in origin. In the 1880s the local Leicester lad and hosiery industrialist AJ Mundella was often quoted in Hansard warning parliament about the advances of German education. The subsequent touring commission resulted in Act of 1889 which allowed local authorities to levy for new colleges of technical instruction. An assortment of art schools and colleges were often absorbed into one Technical School which provided instruction to those employed in the local trades and formed close connections with the town's industries. After 30 years of de-industrialisation these former vocational colleges provide instruction for which there are few jobs and graduate unemployment is currently at record levels.


Art & industry - Portland Building

The origins of the technical school and its association with Leicester industry is brought to life by the Portland and Hawthorn buildings at De Montfort University. Built in stages between 1896 and 1937, you can see how Leicester developed a traditional Jacobean style and then merged it into a sort of classical deco. There are examples nearby of this aesthetic in the former hosiery works: Bryan (Great Central St), Harrison & Hayes (Gateway St) and the Deacon Knitting Co (Grange Lane). W.G. Hoskins often bemoaned the prosaic industrial buildings of Leicester, but on closer inspection there is a definite Leicester aesthetic.


Light industry & art - Harrison & Hayes works

One of the main reasons I eventually returned to Nottingham was because it had better connections to the art school. To put it another way, ‘there was more going on down town’. This was probably because Leicester had a definite barrier: the awful ring road which had severed the city from the art school since the 60s. Hopefully the recent traffic taming by the Magazine will have an improvement both on the retention of students and the freedom to walk.


From the medieval to the future zone - Queens Building

The stand out piece at De Montfort is the Queen’s Building by Short & Associates. A High Tech PoMo Jacobean tour-de-wotsit reflecting Goddard and the nearby hosiery warehouses: height, detail and lots of motifs. It's all very Leicester and hard not to enjoy the complexity. Unlike Short & Associates’ similar Lanchester library at Coventry it’s not a disappointment inside but rather a Crystal Maze of stairs and overhead walkways. I might be alone in liking the tower of the Fletcher building, a standard public sector in-house job by Thomas Locke, yet internally it is coherent and the modernist features have been treated with respect unlike its twin at Loughborough College.


The poverty of student life - Grange Lane

De Montfort is not well planned and although the new Students Union attempts to create some sort of public space it’s all pretty bog standard stuff. None of the University of Leicester accommodation could be as bad as those provided privately at De Montfort. Mean windows, tiny rooms, naff all proportion, no sense of place and there are bloody loads of ‘em. Sadly, some of these jerry built developments have replaced perfectly good industrial buildings but hopefully the recession has seen the last of it. Just round the corner is a proto modernist factory on Henshaw Street from 1893, with a Leicester light industry aesthetic which Pevsner rightly thinks Stirling's masterpiece is evoking. Thankfully it’s listed.


Sod the county, this is Leicester

Further down Mill Lane and overlooking the Soar is another wonderful Jacobean deco hosiery works which has been converted into student housing. It has a series of piercing concrete buttresses and a sky scraper style wall of glazing. Together with the river and the 1890s iron bridge this place adds to the itinerary of impressive and distinctive Leicester townscape. The new student flats further down road are quite the opposite: unbelievably humans are expected to enjoy views out towards a ten storey darkened crevice in Newarke Point.


Narborough Road


Cycling on water (sort of)

A contemporary theme with regional cities and their Universities is retention of students: most bugger off to London, and it's only those that are left behind who actually get to know what “the brain drain” feels like. Thankfully the Narborough Road area is to De Montfort what Clarendon Park is to Leicester - only poorer. Like Clarendon Park it is easily accessible by foot and although the Bede Island complex is pretty dull, on a hot August afternoon the park has a lively commuter rush. The Council is also currently attempting something similar at the end of Soar Lane with Rally Park being redeveloped and made more legible.


Jacobean deco - Bryan works

What De Montfort students have that Leicester University doesn't is an attractive post-industrial canal-side location. I doubt if anything will be built which takes full advantage (apart from this idea by Ash Sakula) but as a sustainable commuter and leisure route the River Soar will take some beating. Although certainly not dramatic, it is accessible, sheltered and full of historic interest. The series of bridges, weirs, and locks are very exciting and there are two occasions which give the effect of cycling on water. Perhaps one day De Montfort students will be able to cycle to the Space Centre but at the moment the path is still a risky ball jangler past Abbey Park. The main area set for development is around the Great Central Railway station, which is strewn with industrial archeology, including a Jacobean deco hosiery warehouse and Friars Mill. Sky Scraper City fans often ignore the street and public realm, which is a shame as Leicester City Council may be an example to others: the whole area is slowly becoming more cycle and pedestrian friendly.


Proto-modernism c.1893 (by Stott & Sons)


References:

B. Burch, The University of Leicester: A History 1921 - 1996 (1996)
N. Pevsner & E. Williamson, Leicestershire & Rutland (1984)
J. Simmons, New University (1957)
N. Pye, Leicester & its region (1972)
M. Argles, The Royal Commission on Technical Instruction 1881-4, in ‘The Vocational Aspect of Education’, (1959)
A. Jones, Urban Impressions: Leicester City, in Jones the Planner (2011)
R. Gosling, Two Town Mad (BBC, 1963)