Wednesday, 24 April 2013

GWMs, Dead Psychogeographers and Funerary Enclaves


Image of map taken by Mark Barker.

I was down in London this week doing a talk at the Cass Business School (City of London University) in EC1. This was an area I knew really well in the 1980s as it was my 'patch' because I was a sales rep. I knew every path and alley of EC1 since I walked every one of them, marking them off on my map as I traipsed. Clearly I was already a psychogeographer-in-waiting.

I do remember Bunhill Fields cemetery from that time, although I don't remember exploring it. It sits within a busy, 'businessy' part of London just North of the square mile. It is one of those surprise little 'hidden' places that seem to have somehow survived the inexorable urban encroachment taking place around it.


These signs (above) show you the positions of the graves of the famous people buried there. While the graveyard is full of GWMs (Great White Men) what was a pleasant surprise was the discovery of two dead 'psychogeographers' in the graveyard there: William Blake and Daniel Defoe. So here are the photos of their graves, and also an extract from Merlin Coverley's Psychogeography book which orients them in the 'tradition' retrospectively.

"Defoe inaugurates a tradition of London writing in which the topography of the city is refashioned through the imaginative force of the writer. [...] These 'Cockney Visionaries' are thus able to recognise sites of psychic and chronological resonance and can align these points in order to remap the city. Elsewhere this sense of an eternal landscape underpinning our own has been termed genius or loci or 'sense of place', a kind of historical consciousness that exposes the psychic connectivity of landscapes both urban and rural. In recognition of such resonance, Defoe is followed by William Blake whose poetry celebrates the spiritual city behind our own, the New Jerusalem whose coordinates he identifies within the streets of the eighteenth century city." (Coverley 2006:16)

Part 2 of the blog is here: Neon Tabards, Dead Dissenters and Insect Hotels

Saturday, 20 April 2013

Independent Record Store Day!

The Muso-Psychogeographical Wanderings of a Retrospective Sojourn



Today, Saturday April 20th, is Independent Record Store Day! Co-incidentally, on a recent trip to my hometown of King's Lynn, Norfolk, I decided to search for the sites of the old record shops of my childhood. I knew they had gone, but I thought I would photograph what was there in their place.



There was a record shop in this area of Tower Street (above). I couldn't remember the name of it, but when I checked online there was a Bayes Recordium there at one time, so I think that must have been where I bought my first single: Hawkwind's Silver Machine.

However, I do remember when Bayes Recordium moved to Broad Street into a much larger store. I think at the location that is now Bet Fred (under the flyover), but I may be wrong, although it was definitely near there somewhere.



On the website British Record Shop Archive it says about Bayes Recordium:
Bayes Recordium started above Bayes TV in St James Street in1957. We moved to Tower Street in 1963 to our own shop. Above this shop we had a recording studio where almost all local (and not so local) groups recorded. We had records made which were sold in the shop and buy the groups. In 1973 we moved to Broad Street (when the iconic orange/black bags first appeared). We sold the business in 1997 having been going for 40 years.


What I did discover on my psychogeographical musical wandering around King's Lynn was a current independent record store in St James' Street (see below). Since I was hanging around the outside taking photos, and drawing attention to myself due to my general snooping, I thought I'd better go inside. So I had a look around and then chatted to the owner about independent record shops in general, and about those that had been in King's Lynn in my child/teenagehood.



The current clientèle looked middle-aged (50+) and were all men - probably those original music-boffins of the 60s-70s. Maybe at the weekend some young people might frequent it, and more women, although maybe not...Anyway, I felt bad about taking his time and then thought I should buy something, so I bought Reparata's Shoes on 45, even though I have nothing to play it on!



As for the independent record shops in Leeds, I have to confess I haven't been to them. But apparently there is a Crash Records on the The Headrow, and Jumbo Records is located in St John's Centre. I love the retro looks of their brand.





Other blogs on King's Lynn:
Pretend Cats, Mistaken Architects and Opinionated of King's Lynn
Jumping Cows, Oil Cake Mills and Car Parks Without Compare

Thursday, 4 April 2013

Deconstructing the Ziff - Part 2



Inside/Outside, Right/Left or Behind the Lines

This is part 2 of the blog. Please click here for Part 1
You can just see a little PEEP of the passage in Looking-glass House, if you leave the door of our drawing-room wide open: and it's very like our passage as far as you can see, only you know it may be quite different beyond. Oh, Kitty! how nice it would be if we could only get through into Looking-glass House! (Lewis Carroll Through the Looking-Glass)
In the above photo of the Marjorie and Arnold Ziff building at the University of Leeds, you can see a reflection of another building in the sheath-like glass fascia. This is the Michael Sadler building next to it, a building from another period and made of Portland Stone on this side. Portland Stone was used a lot in civic buildings for a few hundred years until the 20th century. As a material it makes a statement about public life and civic pride. Not only can we often see it in buildings belonging to royalty, such as Buckingham Palace, but also in our Town Halls. So when we pass this side of the Ziff building we can see the Michael Sadler building doubled, in both its real self on one side of us, and it's reflection on the other side. This reminds us that while the University of Leeds is a contemporary university (we have, and can afford, a brand new postmodern building like 'the Ziff'), it also has historic civic origins which add gravitas to the perception of it as an established university. This is what the university said about the Ziff building in a press release at the point the building work was planned:
The Marjorie and Arnold Ziff building [...]will present a world-class face to the community it serves - the University's past, present and future students, its partners and the region. The building will also represent, more visibly than any other project, the ambitious plan for Leeds to rank among the world's top 50 universities by 2015. (University of Leeds 2006)
While the mirror-like quality of glass has the effect of opening up space - the Ziff building fits snugly into what was a relatively small 'vacant plot' - it also reflects the university back onto itself in the same way the Westin Bonaventure does with LA. The Ziff building presents both a "word class face" yet also, in the same moment, reaffirms its past.



Reinhold Martin explains the effects of this mirroring quality which is so prevalent in postmodern architecture. He describes it as forming "feedback loops" which constantly repeats binary structures such as: "inside outside inside outside", "vertical horizontal vertical horizontal" or "right left right left". (2010: 106) The effects of this may be more apparent in a photograph of the other side of the Ziff building (see above). This side of the building is a wall of curved glass and steel. The mesh-like steel decoration, while part of the building, is also reflected in the building itself. So the steel appears twice, creating the lines of the complex matrix you can see here.

Here we not only see the surrounding area reflected in the face of the building, but also the steel embellishment reflected in the building too; the building also reflects itself. Martin says that these mirrored architectural styles are "less oppositional or complementary than they are redundant, a doubling back of the surface onto itself". (ibid.) He goes on to say that the mirror is a function belonging to postmodernism as it appears as late capitalism, agreeing with both David Harvey and Fredric Jameson's dialectical critiques of how capital operates in urban space. Martin says this occurs at the "point at which what is culture and what is capital cannot be distinguished in any useful way." (ibid.)

This is apparent in the reaffirmation of the university's current strapline in their press release above about the Ziff building: "The building will also represent, more visibly than any other project, the ambitious plan for Leeds to rank among the world's top 50 universities by 2015". As Martin explains, architecture "appears as a cipher in which is encoded a virtual universe of production and consumption, as well as a material unit, a piece of that universe that helps to keep it going." (Martin 2010: xi)



This becomes an interesting point when it comes to postmodern artworks such as Anish Kapoor's mirrored public sculptures, for example his 2010 artwork Turning the World Upside Down and, especially, Cloud Gate (2006) (above) which reflects Chicago back onto itself. The $23 million it cost to fund Cloud Gate, came from donations from individuals and corporations.

Bibliography:
Jameson, Fredriç. 2009. Postmodernism or The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism (London and New York: Verso).
Martin, Reinhold. 2010. Utopia's Ghost: Architecture and Postmodernism, Again (London: Profile Books).
University of Leeds. 'Marjorie and Arnold Ziff Building', The Reporter (27 November 2006), [accessed 5 November 2012]

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Deconstructing the Ziff - Part 1



Up, Down and Around or The Chamber of 32 Doors

"There were doors all 'round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again." (Lewis Carroll Alice in Wonderland)

On the University of Leeds campus we often find new buildings 'shoe-horned' into small 'leftover' spaces, much like the Marjorie and Arnold Ziff building which was opened for business in January 2009 and operates as an administration centre, primarily for students. The building appears squeezed in between the end of a Victorian terrace and one of the lecture blocks, the Michael Sadler Building.

This recent building has the effect of drawing attention to the buildings either side of it if you make an effort to look, but despite these architectural differences urban space operates such that it naturalises the very space that it forms, hiding those differences. Postmodern space is hugely complex because of the history on which it sits; yet there is a type of homogeneity also operating which smooths that space and presents it to the viewer like it has been that way 'forever'.

This is one of postmodernism's paradoxes well noted by Fredriç Jameson. He explains how the notion of a dialectic opposition is not something that appears in the analysis of postmodern society in the same way that it did in a more modernist or Marxist period. (2009: 344) He goes on to say that the cultural objects considered under postmodernism often seem to "fold back into each other". (ibid.) This is apparent when viewing postmodern space, especially in the examples Jameson offers, such as the Westin Bonaventure building consisting of four mirrored columns which simply reflect Los Angeles back to itself.



While it would not be possible to describe the Marjorie and Arnold Ziff building with the same intensity that Jameson describes the Westin Bonaventure - it is not exactly a postmodern hyperspace - it does share some of its qualities, to varying degrees. There are two entrances to the Ziff building. The main one is obvious and is the one that you would first come to if you were encountering the campus from the main university entrance. Here you are taken in to the queueing area that students who require administrative assistance would use. There is also a staircase straight ahead that takes you up to the café on the floor above, which once you are a few feet into the foyer, you can see opening up at the top of the stairs and overlooking the administration area. However, from the other end of the building there is a much smaller, less obvious entrance which takes you on to a level which is between these two floors, requiring you go down a few steps to enter the student admin area, and up a few steps to enter the café. This is slightly disorienting if you have previously only ever entered the main entrance before, as you are not necessarily aware of the slight incline on which the building is built, even if you regularly walk that slight uphill path on your way elsewhere. The image below shows almost the full length of the building on that side, which is not a great distance. However, it is enough to mean this smaller entrance cannot take you directly onto the ground floor of the building inside.



Once just inside this other entrance, while you can work out where the administration area is in space (it is still visible from outside these windows you see in the image above), the café has suddenly disappeared from view. It is closed in at this end of the building and it requires a moment for you to realise that you are entering the building on a different level, and that since there is only one staircase that goes up, it must be that direction you need to take. This disoriented moment is fleeting, but nevertheless is a common side-effect of postmodern buildings, an example of which was recently expressed to me by a friend attempting to orient herself in the newly opened shopping centre Trinity Leeds, which truly is a postmodern hyperspace.



Part 2 of this blog will look further at the mirroring effect of the glass surface of the Ziff building.

Bibliography: Jameson, Fredriç. 2009. Postmodernism or The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism (London and New York: Verso).

Monday, 18 March 2013

Jumping Cows, Oil Cake Mills and Car Parks Without Compare



Subtitle: Returning to 1987 - Part 2

For part 1 of the blog, please click here:
Pretend Cats, Mistaken Architects and Opinionated of King's Lynn

In part 1 of my blog I took a general look at some of the changes in King's Lynn since I left in 1987. This blog is going to discuss a couple of the buildings in the town, starting off with the new(ish) St James Street Car Park which Kevin Beresford of the Car Park Appreciation Society describes as "without compare" in his AA sponsored research on the docking of the country's favourite piece of technology.



The architects were Pullman Associates and it was completed in 2005 at a cost of £6m. Beresford goes on to describe the 700 parking space car park, in very prosaic terms, as "spacious, well-lit and adorned with beautiful red brickwork, complemented by slinky silver vertical aluminium fins that create a rippling wave effect." Although I'm not an expert like Kevin, I must admit when I first saw it I thought it was a sports hall. But, I quite liked the look of the building, despite the poor light on a dreary day. It is much more attractive than most car parks. Kevin, it seems is also the founder of the Roundabout Appreciation Society, so clearly an authority on urban décor.



This is the Granary on the edge of a the Baker Lane car park. It is now a residential conversion with modern flats also attached to it. I like the building, I always liked it as a child. I'm pleased it hasn't been pulled down, although half of two sides of it are now hidden by the new flats. This is what Wikimedia Commons says about it: "Original site of the 'Baker Lane Oil Cake Mill', a four-storey linseed oil mill and warehouse that was destroyed by fire in 1899. Rebuilt for Henry Leake and Son in 1900, making linseed cake for cattle feed. This tower became a granary after 1945, and was retained (converted) as part of a courtyard complex of residential apartments built and converted from between 1985-87." So it looks like it was converted at just about the time I left KL.



This is Top Shop in the High Street. It was Boots the Chemist a long time ago. It was very close to the site of Ladymans, a lovely little deli that I used to visit with my Mum. The architecture was very similar, as you can see in this photo of Ladymans below.



Ladymans was quite 'posh' and had a nice cafe upstairs with a balcony overlooking the deli downstairs. Entering Ladymans was like entering the past. Even in the sixties it still had little pulleys attached to the ceiling that moved the cash and receipts around the place, I guess to the accounts office.

This is my last blog on King's Lynn, but there is an upcooming blog about ye-old-record-shope phenomenon soon, which will also mention King's Lynn.

Monday, 11 March 2013

Pretend Cats, Mistaken Architects and Opinionated of King's Lynn



Returning to 1987 - Part 1

Last weekend I visited the town of my birth for a work reunion, King's Lynn. I left there in 1987 and while I have been back to the town on occasions, this was my first visit as a psychogeographer.



The first image is of the Custom House. We were told, as children, that it was designed by Christopher Wren. Actually it turns out the architect was Henry Bell. If you look towards the Great Ouse river from here, you will see a quayside which has been hugely developed in the time since my departure. If you cross the bridge nearby and face towards the town, you will see this seemingly insignificant area (below). However, this was used in the film Revolution (Hugh Hudson1985). A lot of this part of King's Lynn was used in the film. This photo shows the area that was turned into a brothel. Many people in the town were extras - although not necessarily all as prostitutes, may I add.



Another well-known building is the Duke's Head Hotel not far away from here, in the Tuesday Market Place. This is where I took my first job in service - well not 'in service' exactly, rather more as a hotel receptionist in 1979 - in the days when desirable work skills were still things like being able to use a switchboard (if you are younger than 40, you may need to look this up on wikipedia). You can see from the above link that it was pink at one time. It was also pink in my day. Today it is blue, as you can see below. The tiny window at the top/middle was my bedroom. In the café in the hotel they still have an old photo of the hotel, when it was a bank.





I didn't like the recently redeveloped New Conduit Street at all - it is just another homogenised consumerist manifestation. It's all been (post) 'modernised' and the pedestrianised road is now very narrow and closed-in - why have open space when you can create more places for buying? There used to be more of a piazza feel about this road, with an open area near Jarrolds the stationers.

If, as a visitor, you only saw this part of the town it would be easy to have a low opinion of the architecture. You really do need to make an effort to seek out the interesting buildings (more about this in part 2 of the blog). Also, there are quite a few closed shops. Anything from modern shops to more traditional buildings.





This is a new building and is the home of Costa (below). I feel there has been some attempt to take on some of the aesthetics of nearby buildings. The image below that is the Majestic Cinema which is close to Costa. See the cream paintwork and peach/red bricks in both buildings. Also, Costa does have an art deco-ey feel about it, with the horizontal lines, etc.

The Majestic is now a grade II listed building (built in 1928). We used to go to Saturday morning childrens' cinema there in the sixties. There was also another cinema called The Pilot in those days. The Majestic survived being replaced by a multiplex quite recently - hoorah!!





The Eastern European Supermarket in St James Street reflects the evolving culture of the town. I was trying to find some data to compare the demographics between my time and today, and stumbled upon what can only be described as a stereotypical Daily Mail response to Britain's immigration, in an article entitled Record Levels of Immigration Lead to Jam-Packed England. It was a comment posted by Very Opinionated of King's Lynn: "Romania's 2011 census 19.00 million down from 21.70 in 2002. Any co-incidence???" 38 people have rated this comment as positive, no-one rated it as negative!



On that note...I'll leave you with a lovely (and cute) painted window of some cats which is right next to the Custom House.



Please click here for part 2 of the blog:
Jumping Cows, Oil Cake Mills and Car Parks Without Compare

Saturday, 2 March 2013

The Parkinson Temple: How does ideology influence our aesthetic experience? (part 2)



Please click here for part one of the blog

Walter Benjamin explains how: “Buildings are appropriated in a twofold manner: by use and by perception […].” (2004, p. 526). It is the perception of the temple that is the guiding force in terms of the aesthetic experience for the Greek peoples. The internal model they have of it, in regards to the concepts that define its intent, is what feeds into the feelings they have upon observing it. The same applies to those viewing the Parkinson Building. Louis Althusser explains that ideology is part of all human activity and “is identical with the ‘lived’ experience of human existence itself [...]” (1971a, p.223). Thus it is impossible to say where ideology ends and aesthetics begins: “The aesthetics of consumption and the aesthetics of creation are merely one and the same.” (Althusser 1971b, p.230). This leads us onto the self-reflexivity of this ideological aesthetic relationship.

Heidegger says: “The temple, in its standing there, first gives to things their look and to men their outlook on themselves.” (2000, p.89). He explains that “the work” sets up the world and gives meaning to this opening (2000, p.90). The temple had been created by the people for their gods, but in that very act of creation, in that singularity that not only denoted a new moment in history but also saw representation as symbolising knowledge, man had forgotten that he was the creator of the temple. In a bizarre kind of cultural amnesia the temple as representation was forgotten and instead formed the ground upon which man based his life, it became “the naming power of the word” (Heidegger 2000, p. 91). The temple became the primary position from which all other positions were related: “In the beginning there was the word. The Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1: 1– 3).

In the same way that the temple represented logos for the Greeks the Parkinson Building represents a particular ideology and a specific truth. The lives of the students and staff are organised around the university. The clock tower on the Parkinson Building, a constant reminder of where you are and where you should be, reflects the period of modernity in which it was designed: a period where time became standardised and processes rationalised. The building represents order and form and the students make meaning from this in the same way that the Greeks made meaning from their lived experiences: “It clears and illuminates […] that on which and in which man bases his dwelling.” (Heidegger 2000, p.89). Althusser explains how these subtle yet complex relationships between men and their objects inform this lived experience:
The structure which controls the concrete existence of men, i.e. which informs the lived ideology of the relations between men and objects and between objects and men, this structure, as a structure, can never be depicted by its presence, in person, positively, in relief, but only by traces and effects […](1971b, p.237).

Ideological “traces and effects” are subtly sutured into our very lives and become naturalised to the extent that we may need to step out of ourselves for a moment to notice them. They permeate the world around us and exist in the very objects that feature in our daily lives. And, the reason they are unnoticeable “presupposes that ideology itself” (Althusser 1971a, p.225).

It is through this naturalising process of ideology that the Greeks collectively ‘forgot’ they were the creators of their temple and thus relocated their power there. Heidegger says that with the “temple-work” the material (matter) does not disappear but causes it to appear as if for the very first time in the opening of the world (2000, p.91). This concretisation of ideology in the temple is “produced anew each instant” (Neitzsche 1956, p.33). The temple in its “setting forth” (Heidegger 2000, p.91) out of the material of its manufacture emerges from a ground position. The Greek people, and the students of the university, simply need to glance at the symbol of their prospective temple to actualise their ideology and complete the circle of praxis. This can be compared to the Buddhist ‘wheel of life’ whereby the world evolves and involves in every moment, brought into existence in each instance because of our material attachment to it. The material world is recreated in every moment at that point of recognition (misrecognition):
Thus the world was made to appear, at every instant, as a successful solution of God’s own tensions, as an ever new vision projected by the grand sufferer for whom illusion is the only possible mode of redemption. (Neitzsche 1956, pp.9-10).



However, an absolutist reading of the ideology of the object would be challenged within the poststructuralist framework. In the postmodern world where "The absence of the transcendental signified extends the domain and the play of signification infinitely." (Derrida 2004, p.34) all meaning can be considered subjective.

Heidegger explains how this emerging of the world continues providing “god has not fled from the temple” (2000, p.89). Therefore in this lack of awareness of praxis, this cultural amnesia whereby the Greek peoples forget they are the originators of the temple, the temple thus creates them. The power imbued in it makes it appear as something ‘out there’. The Greeks followed the rules and dictums of the temple and in that practice the original event was forgotten. So, in effect this aesthetic experience is narcissistic, man is taking pleasure in himself. This is what Althusser describes as “the mirror-reflection of the subjectivity of consumption” (1971b, p.231) and what Nietzsche refers to when he says that the Greeks saw themselves in the images of the gods, what he calls the “esthetic mirror” (1956, p.32). The process of the “opening of the world” (Heidegger 2000, p.91) and the “setting forth” (ibid.) of the temple-work is reciprocal. As Theodor Lipps says: “aesthetic pleasure is self-pleasure” (cited in Rieser 1957, p.243). Man marvels at the objects of his own creation and, in this self-forgetting, misinterprets the image in front of him, himself, as the face of God.

Bibliography:

Althusser, Louis. 1971a. ‘A Letter on Art in Reply to Andre Daspre’, Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays, trans. by Ben Brewster (London, New York: Monthly Review Press) pp. 221-228.

Althusser, Louis. 1971b. ‘Cremonini, Painter of the Abstract’, Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays, trans. by Ben Brewster (London, New York: Monthly Review Press) pp. 29-242.

Bayer, Patricia. 1992. Art Deco Architecture: Design, Decoration and Detail from the Twenties and Thirties (London: Thames and Hudson).

Benjamin, Walter. 2004. ‘The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction’, Art in Theory – 1900-2000, ed. by Charles Harrison & Paul Wood (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing) pp. 520-527.

Derrida, Jacques. 2004. Writing and Difference, trans. by Alan Bass (London: Routledge).

Foucault, Michel. 2005. The Order of Things (Abingdon, New York: Routledge).

Gosden, P. H. J. H. and Taylor, A. J. 1975. Studies in the History of a University 1874-1974 (Leeds: Arnold and Son).

Hegel, G. W. F. 2000. Extracts from ‘Aesthetics: Lectures on Fine Art’, The Continental Aesthetics Reader, ed. by Clive Cazeaux (Abingdon: Routledge) pp. 35-52.

Heidegger, Martin. 2000. ‘The Origin of the Work of Art’, The Continental Aesthetics Reader, ed. by Clive Cazeaux (Abingdon: Routledge) pp. 80-101.

Nietzsche, Firiedrich. 1956. The Birth of Tragedy and The Genealogy of Morals, trans. by Francis Golffing (New York: Doubleday Anchor).

Rieser, Max, ‘The Aesthetic Theory of Social Realism’, The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, 16, 2 (1957) pp. 237-248.

Scully, Vincent Joseph. 1979. The Earth, the Temple and the Gods: Greek Sacred Architecture (New Haven, London: Yale University Press).