CONTINUITY IN ARCHITECTURE ARCHIVE

Alexis de Tocqueville’s assessment of the topography of industrialisation seems all the more prophetic as Manchester celebrates another success in its bid to become the centre of ‘trickledown urbanism’. The proposed supercasino presents itself with all the anodyne allure of a suburban leisure centre after a ‘Trinny and Susannah’ makeover – it surely will not be long into the design process before its aesthetic masochism surrenders to the command of the trash of signage and fastfood outlets which will be its inevitable accompaniment. Look out for the KFC bargain buckets speared on the B-of-the-Bang! But of course these joyous prospects are only superficial matters in comparison to the decision to use the local impoverished population as fodder in an experiment into optimising the connection between revenue-harvesting and gambling addiction.

There used to be a general idea that urban regeneration was a benign attempt to address social ills, but that mission would appear no longer to provide the prevailing paradigm. The private miseries of gambling addiction will remain difficult to see, but the tawdry spectacle of Las Vegas-style weddings in the ‘Little Chapel of the Mancunian Miracle’ and the inevitable body-count of the turf war between rival gangs will become obvious, even to the deluded city-fathers with their parochial desire for pseudo-sophistication. For a scholarly reading of the American origins of this political strategy see Still Learning from Las Vegas: The New Face of Urban Redevelopment in a Scavenger Economy Robert Goodman Perspecta, Vol. 29, 1998 (1998), pp. 86-96 Jstor Link (registration required).

As long ago as the early nineteenth century Joseph Aston observed in “The Manchester Guide” that the town had no civic spaces of any merit and it would appear that fine tradition continues.The Manchester Evening News reports that two recent attempts to design public spaces ‘New’ Piccadilly and Exchange Square in Manchester are to be refurbished only a few years after their completion. The lawns of Piccadilly, a prominent feature of EDAW’s redesign of the space, are to be made less accessible to the throng they attract, and Exchange Square, originating from a project by Martha Schwartz, is to have its lighting/paving replaced by materials better able to withstand use. Olive trees and strawberry trees are to be introduced, in perhaps an as misguidedly optimisic gesture as the palm trees Schwartz specified in the late nineties. If the pessimism of this posting is a little too jaded, one only has to remember the prophetic redundancy of the 1981 Royal Wedding fountain in Lincoln Square, and the short-lived obelisk-clock on Market Street to realise that Manchester’s history of public realm projects is lamentable. Those with some semblance of urban memory might recall that the old Piccadilly Gardens were ruined by the city fathers’ introduction of a funfair (including a big wheel) in the late eighties, and so one naturally wonders what will follow the removal of the present big wheel from Exchange Square? Still, this frequently changing situation does at least help attract international attention, as is demonstrated by Exchange Square’s induction into the New York based “Project for Public Spaces: Hall of Shame” where the citation includes the observation that

“Its fancy paving, sweeping design statements and hidden water feature dress the square up, but leave the user with no place to go.”

Project for Public Spaces

What mysterious fate awaits this curious piece of unoccupied land in central Manchester? Is the area formerly known as Gaythorn, between the former British Council HQ (the square gasometer) and the Hacienda apartments (on the site formerly occupied by Fac 51 The Hacienda nightclub) going to witness an astounding addition to the cityscape? Or will the oversaturated residential market receive another example of late-post-neo-loft-living? One thing is certain. The marketing strategy will have more to recommend it than the architecture.

We have been surprised to note the similarity between the recently completed housing by FAT in New Islington, Manchester and the Golden Nugget in the resort of Morecambe. Eschewing the attractions of this hitherto unresearched area of the Lancastrian vernacular, which can span between “Dutch gables” and the ‘Wild West” (perhaps a too, too clever reference to New Amsterdam? ) the principal differences would appear to be in the nuances of car parking etiquette. Unlike the desperadoes of Morecambe, the cowboys of the new frontier which is New Islington have nowhere for tethering horses.