Gee but it's great to be back home

Maritime Museum

Right, so back in the city of culture a few buildings in the town appear to be illuminated in ever changing colours. This may have been a Xmas thing I wouldn't know; I haven't been back into town since a week or so before that damnable day. I shop out of town and fancy (and expensive, no doubt) lighting, expensive son et lumière shows (no matter how spectacular) and other fripperies aren't going to get me on the bus into town.

The place to be is Withernsea

If you haven't been to Withernsea then all I can say is that you haven't lived. With its balmy sandy beaches and inviting blue waters Withernsea is the seaside resort without parallel. The posters below on Whitefriargate last year gave only the merest hint of the pleasures that await you on the sunny Yorkshire coast. Just half an hour's driving on delightful roads due east of the city of culture will bring you to this very special place.

OK it's a bit of dead end, run down resort that used to have a lot of visitors until the railway was removed. Now there's still a beach, a handful of shops and a lighthouse that was carefully placed so far inland that the eroding waves could never reach it. I went there once, it rained.

A Pair of Glasses on a Bench

At some point last summer someone found that cheap reading glasses are cheap for a reason ... and this being the City of Culture instead of just binning them they neatly arranged the erstwhile spectacles in a respectful homage to Nguyen and Khayatan's famed installation at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. 

The Weekend in Black and White is here.

O where do we go now but nowhere

The final show, as it were, of the Year of Culture was a series of installations scattered about the town each consisting of several robotic arms that were supposed to move around with lights and sound (I believe the term 'music' may have been used, but it was basically just eerie noise). This junk was titled "Where Do We Go From Here?" and is described as a "thrilling mix of art and technology" ... the blurb continues "...At a time of political uncertainty at home and abroad, it also asks important questions: What kind of place do we want to live in? What role should culture play? Where do we go from here?" There's more (isn't there always?) "Where Do We Go From Here? , is a deliberate provocation designed to get individuals reflecting upon their city’s future. It invites everyone to take part in a timely conversation about art, culture and society." Yada, yada, yada ...

I came upon this very unmoving piece  as they were obviously fixing some kind of fault, so it wasn't working. However later I did cross paths with a different installation that was in full flow; the arms had lights attached and waved about a bit and there was sound to go with. (Gosh, how very sixites I thought, when robots were just coming into the work place and were seen as menacing ... ) An enthusiastic Hull person (there are some, well, at least one) grabbed me by the arm and exclaimed how brilliant and fantastic it all was... I'm afraid I used language that the clergy do not know.

So the Y of C ended not with fireworks, nor yet with a whimper; it just fizzled out possibly from exhaustion or, more likely, boredom... (Officially there was no celebration because (& I paraphrase) "It's not over yet, there's still more to come and, and ,and ..." yeah, yeah, we paid already) The gang of imps, pimps, banjo players and blow-ins from the world of Culture Incorporated responsible for this fest of dreck were all dutifully gonged by Queenie over the New Year and have not been heard of since... And while Hull is still City of Culture for another three years attention will now pass to poor old Coventry. Oh yes! the birth place of Phillip Larkin (damn Hull did him first, still...)... and Lady Godiva and, and, and ... aint culcha fun?

Unbelievable

A couple of Hully things cropped up in the news while I was away. First Hull was declared the second worst town in the UK. The source for this sensational news was a survey by some folk calling themselves LadBible ("Redefining Entertainment & News For a Social Generation", no, me neither!) clearly this is nonsense and caused uproar and upset in the City of Culture as a) Hull is not a crap town but a crap city (there's no shortage of parochial pedants in this place) and b) Hull is definitely the worst place in the UK, coming second is not an option.

The second incredible snippet of news was the estimate of 3.5 million people attending events during the Year of Culture. Given that this came from Hull City Council who could hardly be said to be impartial observers let alone capable of counting over twenty, this figure is open to some doubt. Still even if we take this figure and look at the break down for individual events say the fireworks on New Year's Eve, the Blade, the porcelain poppies and a handful of other shows soaked up well over 3 million visitors (allegedly). But, and here is yet another incredible (or amazing as they called everything last year, if it wasn't amazing it was stunning ...) fact, there were 2000 events put on over the year. I kid you not, 2000! So by the figures of Hull City Council the vast majority of these cultural events must have attracted two men and (perhaps) a dog. 

Now I'm a trusting sort of guy and if a statement is made to effect that nearly one million folk visited the Blade in its seventy day stay in Queen Vic Square I'm not going to do some back-of-a-fag-packet calculation that this means 600 per hour visited the colossal thing, 10 a minute or roughly the normal number of folk crossing the square at any one time... Also I passed under it dozens of times and must, I suppose, have been counted dozens of times... But I don't want to start off the new year in this suspicious mood. Hull City Council are fine and trustworthy folk as trusty as this picture of the Rose Bowl Gardens.

Even the drains have beauty ...

...in the City of Culture. Barmston drain again with the onset of Autumn

Margot took the second one, and quite possibly the first; one camera, two idiots.

Weekend Reflections are lurking here.

King Cod

Right, let's get these monsters out of the way. Hull has recently put up several memorials to trawlermen lost at sea and there's something of fishing heritage thing developing on Hessle Road. As there's no money in fishing any more maybe there's a bob to made out of tourism ... So for whatever reason money from the City of Culture paid for these murals on Hessle Road. Local artists worked with the guys from Northern Ireland who did Big Lil to produce what are monumental images. ("Cor ain't it big" says I, "It's the size of  houses" says Margot, who notices these things.) Being about fishing there's a King Cod motif which is clear on the triptych below but you have to peer at the fisherman's hand to see his tattoo is the self same Cod. I think what they lack in artistic merit they more than make up with imposing size and they are clearly much loved by the folks around here; one of whom was walking along and found his granny was on the wall, must have been a nice surprise.

More murals are planned I suspect this little fellow will reappear.

Mural Monday is here.

Highway Robbery

Suppose, just suppose you wanted to stand by the Humber at this point for whatever reason. Maybe you like to wander aimlessly wherever your feet take you or perhaps you like to watch the ships go by or you want one last peek at your enemy as she/he floats by. All perfectly good and valid reasons. And on any day you could freely do just what you wanted. However in this stinking backwater (or City of Culture if you will) the Council colludes with a little known group of scallies who run an annual thing called the Humber Street Sesh; an exhibition of hundreds of desperately untalented noise makers, sorry that should read fabulously gifted musicians from all over the place... (I keep forgetting to type in PC speak). Fine; a 'festival', I'm all in favour ... But (there's always a but) to facilitate this shindig the Council not only blocks off the roads to traffic but allows the organisers to set up tolls and charge pedestrians to walk the streets. So for today you will have to pay someone up to £15 for the right walk on your own streets that lead to the riverside and also to the public conveniences on Nelson Street (pay to pee indeed!). This is why I call it highway robbery, they have stolen our streets and are charging us to use them, the noisy bastards!

Dancing in the street

Not having TV or social media folk had to make their own entertainment in the old days. In Yorkshire and North East England they came up with this, it's called rapper sword dancing. It involves five dancers, five double handed steel blades and a guy on the pipes or maybe an accordion playing a catchy rhythm. They whirl around, leap over one another and weave to and fro never leaving go of the handles and trying not to decapitate themselves as they go. The dance ends with the blades intertwined in a star-like figure which is then held aloft as if the solution to all life's problems has been found. It is profoundly pointless and that I suppose is the point as, having made the star, they start all over again, always twirling, twirling, twirling ...

These guys were part of the three day Hull Folk and Maritime Festival which this year I managed to get to see part. There was folk singing on several stages. Not really my scene. I don't mind a bit of the Irish pipes, (Planxty and so on) but modern "folk songs" make me want to reach for the mute button. But then there were lots of folk dance groups doing their thing in various spots across town. Now somehow this appealed; the often bizarre costumes, the music: all good stuff. Below is a sample. 

And last but by no means least ...

Now this being Hull the city of culture as well as all these delights the BBC Proms was being broadcast from the stage in the dock and the UK Pride festival was being held in Queen's Gardens.  I could post about them now but I think I've gone on too long as it is...

Poundland Blues

I've shown this magnificent store before when it was a 99p Store just about to be taken over by the more upmarket Poundland. It seems that take over hit the profits of said Poundland hard (84% decline) and as a consequence this store is now an ex-Poundland (call me a cynic but I suspect that was always the intention; takeover and close down the competition is the way of the business world). And while I'm here and going on (and on) about Poundland the other store I posted about on Ferensway has also been closed and is now to be a gym and sportswear shop (how exciting!). So now the city of culture will have to make do with only one Poundland. Can things get any worse?

Margot took this symphony of blue.

Are you aware of Hull?

Does a creeping, cold sensation grab you by the sensitive parts as you gradually realise that you are being seized with the gruesome realisation that you are 'aware of Hull: UK City of Culture'? Fear not; you are not alone. According to the tiny Leader, some 53% of people have struggled to cope with this awareness problem, with even more suffering in the badlands of the "North". There is only one cure but it is drastic and may be fatal. Go, get you to the godforsaken hole and disabuse yourself of all that nonsense, once and for all. Then let us never mention it again...

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.

Water Troubles

I took this from the bus on my way home thinking to post about the evils of fluoridation and Hull City Council's wish to override the wishes of the surrounding villages and pollute the water with toxic chemicals so that the ignorant, sugar loving children of the city of culture would have fewer dental fillings and extractions. I was going to mention how a certain councillor who has no qualifications in dental matters has popped up from under his slime covered stone to pontificate grandly on the 'benefits' of compulsory medication. I was going to drag in an allusion to ancient troubles going back to the late 14^th century between Cottingham and Hull regarding the water supply and how the gentlemen of Cottingham would put carrion in the dyke that carried water funnily enough along this very street, Spring Bank, and how they could only be calmed by an edict from Pope John XXI ... I was going to do all this then I saw that the Council had put the plans on hold because they don't have the Do Re Mi as Woody Guthrie used to sing. So you see years of austerity have saved me the bother of writing all that and you the trouble of reading it.

I note that this nursery on Spring Bank is taking in babies aged six weeks! I mean six weeks old, at that age you could put them in your handbag (with handles or not) and go to work ...

A tale of two towers

I'm keeping out of the city of culture for a few days; they have taken to dancing in an old graveyard while stuffing their faces all the name of culture and it's not a pretty sight. So I return to Bridlington Priory and its two odd towers. It's looks on the face of it like it's the real deal; an old Gothic building with a perpendicular tower. Well partly. The church as it stands is the vestige of Bridlington monastery which would have looked a bit like this in the early 16th century. As you all know if you were still awake in history classes the monasteries in England were dissolved by HenryVIII. Now the Prior of this place decided to take part in the Pilgrimage of Grace, a rising in Yorkshire against Henry VIII which did not end well. The monastery quickly lost all its valuables and gradually fell into disrepair until only the nave remained standing and that in no good condition.  The pictures below show it in 1786 and 1842. Note there are no towers by the front entrance. So enter our old friend and saviour of fallen churches Sir Gilbert Scott and his passion for the Gothic revival and up rises one perpendicular Gothic tower in the 1870's and one stump of a tower as a permanent reminder not to trust planners ...

The rear view, those buttresses are all Victorian.

I came across this helpful little site on my travels

Culture Vulture

OK it's just a pigeon and you've got to use your imagination but that shouldn't be too difficult if you can cope with Hull: City of Culture.

Pick a colour, any colour

What it's got to do with culture I don't know but if you fancy picking the world's favourite colour then head on over to this site and waste a few minutes of your precious time choosing a suitable shade. I believe there's a prize for the winner although I've always been a bit hazy on the concept of winning so I can't be sure. It's actually a cunning piece of market research by a paper manufacturer (who just happens to be a sponsor of the City of Culture) but who cares these days?
This tosh is at the same place as the vacuous nonsense I posted earlier this year and is clearly reaching the exacting standards of culture demanded in this town. I expect there'll be more delights.

To Let: One City of Culture

I read a report in the esteemed local newspaper that, according to the equally esteemed Sunday Times, Hull is to be included for the first time in the "Best Places to Live in the UK" list. Being the ST it is aimed at readers who would not dream of taking the bus (yes a bus dear! you pay a fare and sit with 'other people' and they may even talk to you) to the human battery farms of Orchard Park and Bransholme or the ruins of Preston Road or, God forbid, a leisurely stroll along Beverley Road with its ambience of traffic pollution, cannabis and the glorious delights urban and human decay. No these blinkered snowflakes only appreciate how the tree-lined Avenues have become desirable with lots of eating places and how "everyone in Hull has got involved" (in the C of C, darling, do keep up). It's delusional BS for the aspirant middle classes.

The list is in no particular order of merit and has no fewer than 143 places on it (as the list takes into account "the personal experiences of the authors" I'm thinking that's a hell of a lot of baksheesh!).  I suppose by the same criteria of making a big enough list Abu Ghraib might have been one of the best prisons in the world.

The other day I was accused of moaning (yes, moaning, me!, as if I would!) by some anonymous commentator, may as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb.

Bang a gong, get it on

In a way the idea of turning this useless bridge to nowhere into a musical instrument makes as much sense as an unlamented 70's pop hit with pastiche hippy lyrics (Well you're dirty and sweet Clad in Black. Don't look back And I love you ... I guess you had to be there and I wasn't!) So it will come to pass that "tuned" metal plates will be attached and struck in the manner of Indonesian gamelan and folk will invited to whack the bridge with a hammer to make "music". To quote the idiot in charge of the asylum "By Playing the Bridge, participants and audiences will form a new relationship with and think differently about a city landmark. It is also a fantastic opportunity to learn a new instrument and be part of an amazing City of Culture project." Nuff said!

The best seat in town

Tourists are flocking to see the latest city of culture installation on Trinity House Lane. The work, sponsored by a local public house, is constantly added to and occasionally subtracted from but will remain a feature in the city through out the year. I think it's a strong statement of the conflict between high ideals and base reality. I highly recommend it.

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.