Modern Romance

Upon writing I've had the realisation that I enjoy buildings a little too much. Who cares?! I must preface this by stating I am NOT an architect, nor am I fluent in technical terminology. This isn't a history lesson, I just love looking up, baby!

BDP Architect's Studio, Ducie Street - Manchester.

Dreadful, dull and ugly are lacklustre adjectives given to some of my favourite buildings. You see them everywhere, littering skylines, on your way to the doctors (they could even be your local GP building), wedged between old architecture or standing loud and proud. My love story is difficult to trace. I suppose it was there for me, grounding and ever-present before I fell for it first. So it goes, says Vonnegut. The maternity ward I was born in was, and still is, an imposing grey block clad in prickly exterior stucco. Every time I visit the hospital I am sure to stare up and offer silent gratitude for the towering brute that provides shelter thanklessly.

Buildings like this don’t demand anything from you. Use me for what I’m made for. Decorate me if you like. Dot my concrete steps with bubble gum and litter, it’s not like I can shrug about it. The view is satisfactory but the weather isn’t cooperating. Put flowers on my windowsills, pivot furniture through stairwells if I haven’t made the task arduous. I’ve witnessed fights and proposals in the same day. You’ve quit your job and the tenant across the corridor starts theirs on Monday. A newborn has just been brought home, safe and sound, yet last week a hearse was parked by my front gates for someone on the ground floor. An underground music artist is making a mixtape in their bedroom hoping to get out of here alive. A resident is bumping keys whilst their neighbour’s sound asleep. One persons dream apartment, another’s worst nightmare. It’s not up to me what you do. I don’t have opinions, nor do I pick sides. Hopefully I’ll house you long enough to see your life blur through me.

I thank those structures yet no words leave my mouth.

Modern buildings bundle up between their old friends. Can you spot the Duke of Wellington wearing his suave traffic cone hat?
Royal Exchange Square - Glasgow

Annually, my mother would take us to the parish church in our town for Christingle celebrations. The church is a stone guardian, looking over the surrounding houses watchfully. Ringing out bells in service, or to mark the hour. I was raised non-religious, but the feeling of connectivity and togetherness during that time of year; stained glass glowing from candlelight, scented with oranges and crisp December air, warm breath exhaling hymns, made me believe that our bodies, even with differing ideas of what that presence could be, were collectively bound by something. Our gathering housed by a building that knew it’s purpose.
In primary school I’d attend a Methodist church which stood squat and small, only a short walk down the street. Unlike the intricate stained glass from the parish, glass detailing here formed a thin cross in primary colours. Sleek wooden panels wrapped the interior, stained to a saturated tan. Fold out chairs and cushions dappled the thin rough carpet. Regrettably, I didn’t know the tune to any of the hymns, instead focusing on the low ceilings condensing that unmistakable church scent, the compact space and warm colour choice swaddling me protectively. One day I’ll revisit my old town to bask in nostalgia. How can a building, dwarfed in size by the town church with minimalistic identifiers to it’s objective, make me feel this way? Is every building a story book, where doors lead you through emotive stories and history? The book covers are off-putting to most. Many say these buildings lack flair. Where are the fancy cornices, motifs, decorative window tracery and stylish chimneys? Don’t shy away, keep looking upward. You’re sure to find hidden gems within the concrete and brickwork that usually go amiss.

That’s the thing, plenty of these so-called eyesores don’t demand attention. Look away and focus on what you’re here for. Playing hard-to-get? That’s too bad, I want to know about you. Who brought you into this world, what were you designed for and when? Did any famous folk have the opportunity to meet you? Have you ever been subject to a snowstorm or lightning strike? How many people have had their first kiss pressed up against you? Over the years, have people used your vantage points for pirate radio (such as Trellick Tower) and rooftop smoke sessions? Did your architect and their client see you as a failure or a success, how so? Is this perverse? Probably. Buildings speak in tongues I yearn to understand. I bother myself with the inconsequential, but everything around me was made by someone for something.

London

Fascination swept me off my feet to the streets of London. My reason for visiting wasn't fuelled solely on my love for buildings. I was there to visit multiple galleries on my own to prove to my past self we were slowly getting over social anxiety. It was magical. Nothing on earth compares to London. Like most cities, my bland buildings play hide-and-seek amongst historical monuments. Standing firm on the banks of the river Thames resides River Court, a residential block completed in 1977, designed by Richard Seifert. River Court boasts iconic views, not just of the Thames, but of One Blackfriars skyscraper. Catch the train to London Blackfriars station and there she is on the right. You’re just around the corner from the Tate Modern gallery, which I highly recommend visiting! With River Court, concrete juts forth in solid cubes, aching to bridge the gap from pavement to river. It boasts rooftop and private communal riverside gardens, featuring interior design by Italian architect and industrial designer, Vico Magistretti.

Trundling up from the Baker Street line (with Holmes standing outside his flat) is another gorgeously geometric marvel, Beverly House. Not to be confused with Beverley House Hotel! Unfortunately I cannot find more information about the property, but was curious to know what the balconies looked like close-up. Thanks to an online listing, balconies are comprised of stunning brickwork with sturdy curved metal guard rails and concrete flooring. Pictured, you can see how the windows of the buildings trickle down on the sides with balconies flicking forth. All the photos are snapped with my old digital camera from high school, I really enjoy the lens flair and fuzzy quality of the image. I knew when the coach drove past I’d have to trace myself back to take a photograph.

Where do we go from here but home?

When you leave your house do me a favour and glance around, would you? Choose a structure at random and find something compelling about it. If you’re feeling fancy you could note it down or replicate it in a sketchbook. Get up close and personal by using standard printer paper, crayon, pencil or charcoal to transfer the texture of the walls. Snap photos of graffiti tags, ask locals or neighbours about your environment. As someone who’s surrounded by these rough, tough giants, give them a little appreciation. Research buildings in your area, plan a trip to visit points of interest, many famous places house events which are free to attend. I’ve always wanted to stop by The Barbican Centre, which will result in another diary entry no doubt. These buildings are made for you to experience them! Get out there and touch ~~grass~~ (I’m kidding, we all should. Greenery contrasting these spaces is dazzling) concrete, stone, brick and plaster! Keep it groovy, lot lover! :)

Modern Romance

London

Where do we go from here but home?

Further Reading: