It's a Cutlure thing

The streets of the toon were all kivvered aroon

Wi' stuff that was colourful, gowden and broon,

It was put there, of course, by a big Clydesdale horse!

And they called it manyura, manyura manyah!

                                                                                                        Matt McGinn

Readers of this delightful and informative journal will recall that the streets of Hull town centre were, at great expense both of money and inconvenience, recently changed from small paving bricks to slightly larger paving slabs. How proud those who consider such things were to have such a wonderful and attractive pavement for folk to walk about and browse the shopping "offer" of the town.  This however is the City of Cutlure (extended due to force majeure until May next year, Coventry due to be the next victim of this stupidity is scared the Covey will put folk off visiting, can't think why that might the case... Cutlure is staying) so it came as no great surprise to find the streets of the town had developed a nasty case of white-spot disease with Jameson Street, King Edward Street and good old Queen Vicky Square affected by a plague of painted dots. I guess that the council imagined that vast hordes would descend upon the place and, with the then Government policy of 2m distancing being the rule (sorry, guideline), folk would need help in judging how far apart to stand. How this was supposed to work I can't imagine: was there to be synchronised hopping from dot to dot? Would you wait until the next spot was clear or just proceed until you came up against an occupied place and stand, possibly on one leg and whistling Dixie, until you could go about your business. It was, of course, absurd, panic from the pretendy powers-that-be. No-one took a blind bit of notice of them and tell the truth there's hardly enough folk to make a crowd (two's company ...)  wandering around the  mainly closed shopping areas.

The fad for surgical masks and gloves, I believe the collective term for this is PPE, means that there is a novel (and completely unexpected, who'da thought ... tsk, tsk) litter problem. 

... do not sound a trumpet before you ...

If one could earn even ten pounds a week at begging, it would become a respectable profession immediately. A beggar, looked at realistically, is simply a businessman, getting his living, like other businessmen, in the way that comes to hand. He has not, more than most modern people, sold his honour; he has merely made the mistake of choosing a trade at which it is impossible to grow rich.

 George Orwell

"Do not feed the troll" is the lesson instilled in every child from the first gift of the internet at whatever early age is thought suitable these days... to which has now been added the age old edict "Do not give to the beggar" the mot du jour of the local Council. Your left hand seems to have discovered that your right hand has been doing good works to those deemed to be living an "at risk" lifestyle and your left hand is most unhappy. Your spare change might be helping buy that guy's next fix of whatever nice chemical he chooses to escape from the drudge of living in the city of culture, your scruffy little beggar may well be in fact a con artist (who isn't these days? Is it not written that all will be fake and all manner of things shall be fake...) with a nice flat paid for by housing benefit; your beggar is a smack head, a spiced out zombie, the scum of the earth, a drag on the social budget, a filthy stinking rotten nuisance ... that is your beggar so don't you go giving the beggar your precious pennies. No, give it instead to a Council approved list of charities who will see to it that your money goes to all the right places, the acceptable places, the 'deserving' places, ... all of course via the charities' very reasonable expense accounts, they have to live after all, they have rent to pay, managers to pay, they aren't a charity ... erm ... and somewhat like Orwell I see little difference between the beggars on  Jameson Street and Whitefriargate and the charities set up to do "good works": they just cut out the middle man. 

And I won't lie; I don't give to either.

A road by any other name ...

You know how towns like to honour folk by naming streets after them: so this town has a Larkin Close; an appropriately dull cul-de-sac, Alfred Gelder Street, Jameson Street, and Ferensway , of course; that local turncoat John Hotham from the civil war times gets a road along with Sir Thomas, Lord Fairfax who gets an avenue; there must be dozens more: Raich Carter Way, Blundell's Corner spring to mind as I write... just outside Hull, across the road from me, there's a short avenue named after a guy who wanted to be Lord Glencoe but somehow the connotations of bloody massacre made him change to Lord Strathcona ... so, anyway,  the other year they decided to rename Garrison Road as Roger Millward Way. I'm not sure that this is any kind of honour since Garrison Road as was is really just an extension of the dreaded A63/Castle Street, the bane of motorists' lives and a right pain in the nethers to cross at times... and I wonder how many even know about this or whether the name will catch on ... when they finally get home, will the motorists of this fair town put their feet up, wrap their hands round a well deserved hot brew and say "oh that *beeeep* traffic on Roger Millward Way was such a *beeeep* disgrace" ... nah not going to happen, ever.
I won't pretend to know anything about who or what Roger Millward was, some sporty bloke, so I've heard,  rugby league, really, really not my scene ...

I mentioned today and several times before that this road is  a pain to cross and that young men have been seen to turn into grey beard loons waiting, funeral directors have been spotted lurking for falling stock ... well some concerned person has put up a plaque to let the world know that those who wait may be gone but are not forgotten, not lost just gone before ...

Well, you know what thought did?

...Followed a muck cart and thought it was a wedding.

I seemed to have timed my arrival in town on Saturday for the ceremony of the emptying of bins, an event designed to draw in crowds and reassure folk that the City of Culture will not be overwhelmed by litter. So it was that I followed this muck cart , sorry, stately urban refuge collection and recycling vehicle, up the sunny delight that is Jameson Street where it posed  in front of the now empty BHS store, an almost iconic Hull combination.

À propos  the empty store the council , last I heard, had asked for tenders and plans for demolition. Whether those plans have to include keeping the mural I  know not; the council has said it is its intention to keep it. I won't tell you what I'm thinking because you know what thought did ...

Festival House

You know how it is: the neighbours have gotten a bit rowdy and done a bit of damage to your neighbourhood but, well, we've all got to get along together somehow ... so some six years after that party that was WW2 Hull gets round to building something permanent; Hull is so chuffed at building something permanent it puts up a plaque and the building is named after that event that forever dooms Britain: the Festival of Britain. OK enough hype; this easily missed building is the first building they built after the war and Jameson Street must have been a much bigger mess than the recent renovations ( "You don't know you've lived", I believe is the expression our parents would fling at us for being born too late to miss all that bomb damage fun. So sorry Adolph I'll catch it on Yesterday +1). May day 1951 must have been some day for Hull, the rebuild begins. There is that saying if at first you don't succeed try again and fail again, fail better; Hull has been doing that for nigh on seventy years.

The Pro

I suppose I could have used this for this month's theme of photographing the photographer. This guy had a serious amount of kit and clearly had a date somewhere as he marched along Jameson Street a few weeks ago.

The Masters Bar

At the junction of Jameson Street and South Street stands this little gem of Edwardian baroque revival. It was built in 1903 and is, of course, protected by a Grade 2 listing.

I'll mention  here (without comment) an odd little poster that you may have noticed in the top photo. It's for that Larkin exhibition at the University which I posted about a few weeks ago.

Kickabout on Jameson Street

Ah the wonderful game inspires all sorts to demonstrate their ball skills (or lack of them) in the oddest places. Somehow I don't think this guy is going to picked up for millions of pounds by some premier league team.

Building a legacy

Here is the eastern end of Jameson Street with the canopy of the now empty BHS store that used to shelter those waiting for buses. Where once there was a steady stream of cars, buses and people, the very arterial blood of any city, there is now yet another bland, pedestrianised desert. 

When a shop stops selling stuff and the doors close and the "for sale" signs spring up (redevelopment opportunity, of course) this is when the cover up operation starts. In swoops the council or whoever and City of Culture posters festoon the empty windows and doors. It all looks so professional, they've obviously had a lot of experience in this. So the empty BHS store is no longer a salutary lesson in the failure of modern business but has somehow become a bright blue advertisement for Culture and that is some sort of legacy I suppose.

Now I've gone on about this mosaic thing before and how there was a petition to get it some protection from any future wrecker's ball. Well it seems there yet another petition to get it Grade 2 listed. As you simply cannot have too many petitions I signed that as well; you may like to do so it's here. The mural now has a Twitter identity (@BhsMuralHull)  and I read recently of a young person who had a tatoo based on the mosaic. Now that is truly a lasting legacy.

The Weekend in Black and White is here.

OK, Let's Play

Here's the newly paved over junction of Jameson Street and King Edward Street taken a few weeks ago when the the orange lurgy was still hanging about. I believe this dull, windswept stretch of reclaimed land goes by the equally dull, tediously sycophantic and boring old name of King Edward Square. Now really was there no body else they could honour? Somebody who actually did something more useful than screwing several dozen mistresses and siring a bunch of inbred twerps. Even Wilberforce Square would have been better, though not much. Anyhow as is the way of things in this place no empty space can be left unfilled and so the local rag has a tale of daffodils, fluttering and dancing in the breeze no doubt, filling this godforsaken wasteland with springtime icky yellowyness only (now you knew there had be an 'only' coming along)  these are made of Lego. Fake flowers ffs! But then that's culture for you, all phoney baloney from the get-go. And no I won't be taking pictures, not now ... not ever.

Trees at night

The new trees and seats on Jameson Street have ground level lighting so you don't bump into them in the dark... did you know that some trees at night let themselves droop by up to four inches? And furthermore there are people being paid a good salary to find out more about this valuable titbit of information.

The ever fascinating and never drooping Weekend in Black and White is here.

L'accordeoniste

There's often someone trying to earn a few pennies busking on an accordion at this spot on Jameson Street. The quality of performance varies from dire to almost professional with electronic drum boxes giving some extra oomph to the performance. This guy was quite good and I left humming Sous le ciel de Paris  for the rest of the afternoon.

The New Look

In the bad old days Jameson Street had paving, a few trees, a scattering of seats and a row of street lights. Now, after the expenditure of untold millions, Jameson Street has paving, a few trees, a scattering of seats and a row of street lights. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose as they often say these days in the city of culture.

Tangled up in blue

Over in Trinity Square the finishing touches to this year's marathon makeover were being put in place the other day. I noticed this figure wrapped in blue plastic. It's the reinstated statue of Andrew Marvell. This seems to be a more modest presentation as previously he was atop four or five steps and surrounded by four concrete balls. Naturally those steps were the place for alkies and druggies to while the day away. Where will they go now, those poor souls?

And jumping over to the other side of town to the junction of King Edward Street and Jameson Street this was the scene late on Wednesday still with a rush to complete by Christmas Eve. Still with the old orange barriers and still a fair few paving blocks to be laid. I haven't been back since then but the local paper reports that Jameson Street, off to the left, is now clear of barriers though the response from readers seems somewhat mixed.

And as ever a job is not done until it has been seen to be done by at least five other workers ...

If you've reached this far it only remains for me to wish you all a "Happy Whatever It Is You May Be Celebrating" this exceedingly mild December 25 ...

When you're in a hole ...

Jameson Street is really under the knife as the makeover makes over.

The guys who are doing all this wonderful work have made a little video of the full extent of their efforts. It appeared in the local paper recently; I'm sure they wont mind too much if I share it here. If the video doesn't work here's a direct link.

Heaping Pelion upon Ossa

“Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam”.
                                                          Virgil

The Greek myths tell of  giants waging a war on the gods and in an effort to destroy the home of the gods they pile one mountain on another. These days, of course, there are no giants and no gods either. Just the midgets and minnows of the Council who are seemingly waging an undeclared war, not on heaven but on Hull itself. The opening front of this stadtkrieg involves ripping all the pedestrianised areas up in order to lay new paving stones with fountains (they will no doubt squirt you for the sake of civic virtue). The supposed enemy, reeling from this blitz, are then faced with a flanking manoeuvre; the closure for refurbishment of Carr Lane. Ah yes the timing of this assault is exquisite, that is to say, exquisitely awful..
So there'll be four months (better make that five you know how things go round these parts) of upheaval, 32 buses per hour rerouted, pedestrians rerouted, shops made inaccessible in the usual Hull way of cacking things up. I'm looking forward to the inevitable epic gridlocks that will happen; it's bad enough at the best of times. My bus doesn't go down there but, things being the way they are, one little niggle in a road and the whole godforsaken place grinds to a halt. Oh it's going to be so much fun ... but when it's all done there'll be silver paving stones, the road will glisten with gold and people will dance gaily in the brave new world while minstrels will sing songs of praise to the glorious Council.
But as Virgil says three times they tried to pile Pelion on Ossa  ... ah yes the works already carried out in Jameson Street are having to be ripped up and reinstalled because there were "defective".

And while I'm here, and on a roll, I may as well mention the Ferens art gallery, on the left,  is also being done up to make it able to meet the demands of modern day art exhibitions (the Turner Prize for example), the bill for this just recently went up by a cool half mil to £2.8 million. Kerching!

"Quos Deus vult perdere, prius dementat" as no-body ever said.

The Operation Was Successful, But the Patient Died ...

King Edward Street opened early 1900's to connect Prospect Street and Queen Victoria Square. When I came to this town in the early 80's it was a bustling place with plenty of traffic and pedestrians. But then traffic became a dirty word and so for the past twenty or so years one half of it has been bricked off in the grand pedestrianisation scheme. Now the Council are finishing off the job by paving over the rest of the street and the remainder of Jameson Street that had escaped that unpleasant fate. A slow, lingering death awaits the area. I think if the Council want to bring back life to this place they could do worse than follow the most successful shopping street in the country. Nobody would dream of bricking over Oxford Street,  would they?

Death by a thousand bricks

In the late 80's or was it the early 90's Hull betook itself of a scheme to pedestrianise parts of the city centre. Whitefriargate's pedestrianisation in the 70's having been deemed a success it was thought that a goodly dose of the same medicine would improve the place. Accordingly Jameson Street, King Edward Street and Queen Victoria Square were closed to traffic and paved over. Then later bricked over, as you see. The idea, no doubt, was to improve the 'shopping experience' and indeed no-one now gets hastled by a bus on King Edward Street but then they never did if they stuck to the pavement. As for the shops they have for the most part gone; I doubt there's single business that was running from before still going now. Instead there's, well as I've said before numerous coffee shops, charity shops, shops selling telephones and discount stores. There's also the inescapable fact that the place looks (I'll be polite here) ugly and drab. I'm told that after about 6pm the whole place is deserted which accounts for the closure of so many restaurants, pubs and so on. Today's paper brings a  tale of a restaurant being opened with the forlorn hope to "revive the evening economy", well good luck with that.

Now  instead of drawing the logical conclusion that bricking the place up was a big mistake the Council is going to polish the turd, as they say in certain parts, and fling millions at 'improvements' for the City of Culture. It won't work, no amount of pavement fountains, arty farty works and so on will bring in the shoppers. (The shops by the way are all in the new shopping mall St Stephens or out of town (people are going to Leeds and Sheffield for their shopping!), we'll skip over the absence of joined up thinking here, shall we?)  

Well here's my view for it's worth: Admit that the planners were barmy (and quite possibly corrupt, Hull is far from alone in having failed pedestrian schemes all put in in the glorious 90's), rip out the bricks, put in some tarmac and bring back the buses and cars, restore the status quo ante; in short bring back the life that was sucked out by this idiotic scheme.  But I suspect it's too late, there's a definite stench of decay but that could just be the drains....

Afrikan Warriors

So I'm on my way to Tesco when I came across these guys, the Afrikan Warriors if their shirts are not lying, doing acrobatics and strutting their stuff in the middle of Jameson Street. I don't know if they were officially part of the Freedom Festival but who cares, they certainly kept the crowd, particularly the children, entertained.

Change of use

Paragon Street, Hull

In what appears to be a remarkable outbreak of common sense Lloyd's Bank is moving from its position on Paragon Street to a new place round the corner on Jameson Street. Yeah wow, I know, exciting (not). But bear with me, the old place along with the empty former Job Centre next door is being converted into apartments with affordable rents. Bringing people to live in the town centre, occupying these large empty shops and offices has got to be a 'good thing'. If the scheme succeeds there are plenty of similar buildings that could be used in this way. Whisper it gently though, this is social housing (if by proxy), with a not-for-profit trust and the Council owned builders firm involved under a Government project to bring empty buildings back into use. And it only tickles the surface of the massive housing shortage crisis in this green and pleasant land, still the journey of a thousand miles begins by putting your shoes on as someone once said.

Jameson Street, Hull