Edinburgh (population 430,082) is considered to be the best place to live in the UK.
It is easy to offer reasons for Edinburgh's status. The city has shops: (inter)national chain and independent, and the reputation of Princess Street extends beyond the UK. There are restaurants (including several vegetarian restaurants) offering a wide range of cuisines at a range of prices. Tripadvisor lists 194 hotels, 219 B&Bs and inns, and 45 speciality lodgings. There are cinemas, theatres and art galleries that are swept up in an internationally-renowned summer arts festival. Murrayfield is well known to sports fans, and there are golf courses around the city. Encircling the southern half of the city is a near-motorway by-pass, and there is a well-used local bus network, a local rail network, and construction of a tram network is underway. The local economy is thriving, boosted by tourism. The presence of the Scottish parliament is a vote of confidence in the city.
The building that houses the Scottish parliament is a wonderful construction. Although much criticised, and unjustly mocked, it is highly original in design, in excellent taste, apparently fit for purpose (although I should want to hear the opinions of MSPs before firming up on that statement), and an impressive intertwining of contemporary and historical.
Showing posts with label architecture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label architecture. Show all posts
06 November 2007
26 March 2007
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art: MIMA
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art (MIMA) is a new art gallery housed in a recently-completed building set in a magnificent square in the heart of Middlebrough town centre. The gallery cost £14.1 million, and the square £5.5 million. These are signiifcant sums of money for a town that carries an unremitting industrial reputation to spend on fine art and architecture.
I visited the gallery on a cold, breezy day in March, bright with sunlight, and was able to photograph both the gallery itself and some of the other buildings around the square. Photography of the inside of the building is permitted, but not of exhibitions. To view my photographs, follow this link:
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art
From the outside, and contrasted with the other buildings in the square, this grand building looks fittingly like a modern art gallery. Its box-like structure, somewhat reminiscent of Walsall's new art gallery, feels modern and contructed. Whilst the two side walls and the back wall are made of a glowing white material that could be limestone, conrete or rendered breeze blocks, the wall overlooking the square is mostly an immense expanse of glass recessed behind vertical steel cables. The main entrance is at the front of the building towards the right. Beside the main entrance, part of the wall is built from am ordered chaos of limestone blocks with all manner of different dressings. From this I took a message that paying attention to detail will yield results. This wall departed from the concept of minimal decoration and large flat areas. It also appeared immediately obvious that thought and attention have been given to the materials of which the building is made.
With its grand atrium from which all floors are visible but activities are hidden. the inside of the building feels a little like the inside of the Sage in Gateshead. The dark stone tiled floor feels pleasingly lavish. To the immediate right of the main entrance a tasteful cafe/restaurant occupies the right end of the ground floor. A staircase with wooden (oak?) bannister climbs diagonally from left to right in a barely-broken run from ground floor to third floor.
[Give details of the gallery spaces.]
On the day of my visit there was an exhibition of drawings in a variety of media. Most notable was the fact that there were a few works by some big names: Picasso, Pollock. The value of the exhibition, however, was the work of less-well-known artists [give details]. Perhaps one of my shortgcomings is that I value examining the drawings of an artist only once I am familiar with their work. I was disappointed not to view some of the paintings in the gallery's permanent collection. With this purpose in mind I intend to visit the gallery again soon.
[Give details of the square]
[Upload photographs of the square]
In summary, I visited Middlesbrough in order to see, examine and photograph a building, and also to view an exhibition. Although the exhibition did little for me, the building is very obviously a significant and valuable addition to the architecture of Middlesbrough town centre.
I visited the gallery on a cold, breezy day in March, bright with sunlight, and was able to photograph both the gallery itself and some of the other buildings around the square. Photography of the inside of the building is permitted, but not of exhibitions. To view my photographs, follow this link:
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art
From the outside, and contrasted with the other buildings in the square, this grand building looks fittingly like a modern art gallery. Its box-like structure, somewhat reminiscent of Walsall's new art gallery, feels modern and contructed. Whilst the two side walls and the back wall are made of a glowing white material that could be limestone, conrete or rendered breeze blocks, the wall overlooking the square is mostly an immense expanse of glass recessed behind vertical steel cables. The main entrance is at the front of the building towards the right. Beside the main entrance, part of the wall is built from am ordered chaos of limestone blocks with all manner of different dressings. From this I took a message that paying attention to detail will yield results. This wall departed from the concept of minimal decoration and large flat areas. It also appeared immediately obvious that thought and attention have been given to the materials of which the building is made.
With its grand atrium from which all floors are visible but activities are hidden. the inside of the building feels a little like the inside of the Sage in Gateshead. The dark stone tiled floor feels pleasingly lavish. To the immediate right of the main entrance a tasteful cafe/restaurant occupies the right end of the ground floor. A staircase with wooden (oak?) bannister climbs diagonally from left to right in a barely-broken run from ground floor to third floor.
[Give details of the gallery spaces.]
On the day of my visit there was an exhibition of drawings in a variety of media. Most notable was the fact that there were a few works by some big names: Picasso, Pollock. The value of the exhibition, however, was the work of less-well-known artists [give details]. Perhaps one of my shortgcomings is that I value examining the drawings of an artist only once I am familiar with their work. I was disappointed not to view some of the paintings in the gallery's permanent collection. With this purpose in mind I intend to visit the gallery again soon.
[Give details of the square]
[Upload photographs of the square]
In summary, I visited Middlesbrough in order to see, examine and photograph a building, and also to view an exhibition. Although the exhibition did little for me, the building is very obviously a significant and valuable addition to the architecture of Middlesbrough town centre.
22 August 2006
Some cities in the US
Mahattan is the capital city of high culture; the most vibrant of cities in which to shop, eat and be entertained; and simply the centre of the world. The terrorist attack of 11 September 2001 prompted me to visit - four times to date. Were a year's job-swap ever possible, I should find it impossible to resist. In the meantime my next visit is being plotted.
DC, with its Smithsonians, its grand architecture, and the charming politeness of many of the people who live there, make it a worthy tourist city. Its pleasant weather, reasonably accessible public transport system, and several vegetarian eating places (all of which had vegan dishes) made the four days I spent there all too brief, and I should have preferred to have spent four weeks. DC is high on my list of cities to revisit.
Boston, on the other hand, is significantly over-rated as a tourist destination, and is worth avoiding until even Washington (Tyne & Wear, UK), Peterlee (County Durham, UK) and Harlow (Essex, UK) have been exhausted. Whereas it likes to trade under the name of 'Beantown', Boston's historical sites are few, poorly presented, and offensively partisan. Many of the people who inhabit central Boston behave coldly at best, some might say rudely. There is virtually no vegan food to be had anywhere near central Boston. On the other hand, Cambridge was pleasant in a very, very low key way, but nothing to Oxford (UK), Cambridge (UK) or ever Dublin (Eire).
Chicago has wonderful architecture stretching back to the nineteenth century. As well as the grand buildings, such as the Institute of Art, and the fascinating 1920s' skyscrapers (such as the Union Carbide building), and the imposing late twentieth century skyscrapers (such as the Sears Tower), Frank Lloyd Wright left his mark, several in fact, at Oak Park - essential viewing for anyone interested in architecture. A boat trip is an excellent way to view the architecture of downtown Chicago. The Instiute of Art, so lovingly featured in John Hughes' movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off, is world class, and is essential viewing. Several recent movies use the ambience of Chicago as though a chartacter: Fugitive, starring Harrison Ford, and While You Were Sleeping, starring Sandra Bullock. The public zoo is set in parkland on the lakeshore. There is vegetarian food in Chicago, including in the gay, bohemian suburb of North Halstead.
To be continued ...
DC, with its Smithsonians, its grand architecture, and the charming politeness of many of the people who live there, make it a worthy tourist city. Its pleasant weather, reasonably accessible public transport system, and several vegetarian eating places (all of which had vegan dishes) made the four days I spent there all too brief, and I should have preferred to have spent four weeks. DC is high on my list of cities to revisit.
Boston, on the other hand, is significantly over-rated as a tourist destination, and is worth avoiding until even Washington (Tyne & Wear, UK), Peterlee (County Durham, UK) and Harlow (Essex, UK) have been exhausted. Whereas it likes to trade under the name of 'Beantown', Boston's historical sites are few, poorly presented, and offensively partisan. Many of the people who inhabit central Boston behave coldly at best, some might say rudely. There is virtually no vegan food to be had anywhere near central Boston. On the other hand, Cambridge was pleasant in a very, very low key way, but nothing to Oxford (UK), Cambridge (UK) or ever Dublin (Eire).
Chicago has wonderful architecture stretching back to the nineteenth century. As well as the grand buildings, such as the Institute of Art, and the fascinating 1920s' skyscrapers (such as the Union Carbide building), and the imposing late twentieth century skyscrapers (such as the Sears Tower), Frank Lloyd Wright left his mark, several in fact, at Oak Park - essential viewing for anyone interested in architecture. A boat trip is an excellent way to view the architecture of downtown Chicago. The Instiute of Art, so lovingly featured in John Hughes' movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off, is world class, and is essential viewing. Several recent movies use the ambience of Chicago as though a chartacter: Fugitive, starring Harrison Ford, and While You Were Sleeping, starring Sandra Bullock. The public zoo is set in parkland on the lakeshore. There is vegetarian food in Chicago, including in the gay, bohemian suburb of North Halstead.
To be continued ...
23 November 2005
Bridges
I have just read an article about bridges on the BBC News website: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/4450264.stm
I have for ever given importance to bridges. My first bridge was that in the tale: Three Billy Goats Gruff, in which a troll or an ogre hid under the bridge and menaced each of the goats as they attempted to cross the bridge. Bridges harboured hidden dangers. My second bridge was more friendly: that from which Pooh, Piglet and friends threw sticks into the stream, thus creating the game of 'pooh sticks'. As a young adult, I painted a picture of this scene, and felt proud of my portrayal of the wooden construction of the bridge. For a number of years, I used the poem by William Wordsworth, On Westminster Bridge, as the de facto home page for my website.
Many people contemplate taking their life by leaping from a bridge. In this respect, the Clifton Suspension Bridge (Bristol, UK) has a gruesome reputation. The Tyne Bridge (Newcastle, UK) and the Wearmouth Bridge (Sunderland, UK) also have something of a bad reputation regarding suicidal people, not least because of the resulting substantial traffic hold-ups. Recently, I was driving over the Redheugh Bridge (Newcastle, UK) when I was held up for an hour by police officers who were trying to 'talk down' a "jumper" (their term).
Walking across, or at least onto, bridges is an activity that I have always found disproportionately meaningful. Crossing from one place to another, from Buda to Pest, from Newcastle to Gateshead, from Manhattan to Queens or to Brooklyn, from Westminster to Southwark, from Denmark to Sweden, feels like a change of state, of manner, or expectations. Driving over the bridge is second best, but preferable to not engaging with the bridge at all. I love naughtiness of the scene in the otherwise lacklustre movie Anger Management in which Dr. Buddy Rydell, the character played by Jack Nicholson, demands that Dave Buznik, the character played by Adam Sandler, stops the car he is driving during the rush hour over the Williamsburg Bridge.
When I, eventually, visit Sydney (Australia), I intend to take the guided tour of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
In Manhattan (New York, USA) it was a reverential moment when I set foot for the first time on Brooklyn Bridge. I have many photographs of the occasion. Walking across the Queensboro Bridge from Manhattan to Queens was demanding, but I am glad to have done it. I shall not feel as though I have visited San Franciso until I have walk across the Golden Gate Bridge.
In France, I have visited the Pont du Gard at Nimes, and the Pont Vieux in Avignon. It was wonderful to stand on the medieval bridge over the River Agout in Brassac (Tarn, France). However, of greater familiarity and significance are the various bridges across the River Seine in Paris. Their variety echo the vartiety of bridges across the River Thames in London (UK).
In Italy, it was important for me to walk cross the River Tiber, although I did not consider the bridges in Rome to be as inspirational as I had hoped. It goes without saying that I ache to walk on the Ponte Vecchio when I visit Firenze (Florence) for the first time. Of greatest Italian significance, however, are the bridges of Venezia (Venice). The vaporetto tannoy announcement "Rialto!" still rings in my ears. Despite their wheelchair unfriendliness, I love the bridges that cross the Canal Grande, as well as many of the smaller, less ostentatious bridges over obscure backwater Venetian canals.
In Germany I have walked across bridges in most of the cities I have visited, starting in the early 1970s with the Rein (River Rhine) in Koln (Cologne), and most recently the Spree in Berlin. I regret to holding a prejudice that German bridges are less singular and less romantic than they could be.
In Belgium, the canals of Brugge and Gent provide the opportunities for bridges, although it is the canals, rather than the bridges that I find attractive. In Amsterdam (Nederlands), though, the balance between canals and bridges feels a little more even. However, it is not easy to loiter on bridges in Amsterdam, for fear of being squashed by cyclists.
In Scotland in the late 1960s I crossed the River Tay, walking from Dundee and back again across the Tay Road Bridge. I had been driven in a coach across the Forth Road Bridge. It was only many years later that I drove my car across the Forth Road Bridge on my way from Edinburgh to Dunfirmline. However, on this latter occasion we stopped, parked the car, and walked onto the bridge, taking photographs of it, and its sibling bridge, the Forth Rail Bridge. I may, in fact, never have crossed the Forth Rail Bridge, other than in my imagination watching the movie The Thirty Nine Steps.
Driving south from Durham to Dover necessitates the uplifting experience of the Dartford Crossing (driving back north involves the Dartford Tunnel instead). Driving between Gloucestershire and South Wales is made special by crossing one or other of the now two Severn Bridges. When ploughing the Lancashire/Cheshire stretch of the M6, driving over the famous Thelwell Viaduct is a marvellous experience. I have never had occasion to cross the Humber, although I was excited to spy the Humber Bridge while overflying it en route from Newcastle to Amsterdam.
It gives me great satisfaction to walk from the Palace of Westminster across the River Thames. To me, Westminster Bridge is one (of several) centre of the world (Times Square in New York City is another). I ache to walk across the Millennium Bridge from Tate Modern to St Paul's Cathedral. It thrills me every time drive over Tower Bridge.
In Chester (Cheshire, UK) the Grosvenor Bridge is impressive-looking, but not very exciting to walk over. On the other hand, Handbridge, the medieval bridge, gives a sense of involvement with the River Dee. The suspension footbridge that spans the river from Grosvenor Park and the Groves to Queens Park and the Meadows is a holiday to walk across. Also in Chester are gates in the Roman and medieval city walls. As in York, these gates to the city are also bridges for pedestrians circumnavigating the city walls. Eastgate, with its world-famous clock, is a most pleasureable to stand and watch life pass beneath, up and down Eastgate Street and Foregate Street.
In York (Yorkshire, UK), my favourite bridges across the River Ouse are Lendal Bridge and the Ouse Bridge. In Sunderland (Tyne and Wear, UK) I have stood many a time on the Wearmouth Bridge looking downriver to the sea. In Newcastle I have sat eating my lunchtime sandwich on the Gateshead Millennium Bridge, driven many hundreds of times across the Tyne Bridge, made myself late by choosing to drive over the Swing Bridge, spontaneously ducked when driving over the High Level Bridge (with the East Coast Main (railway) Line on the upper deck), sped (in my car) across the Redheugh Bridge, and crawled (in trains) across the other rail bridge.
In Durham (Co. Durham, UK) I cross each of the bridges on foot, and some by car, with some frequency. Elvet Bridge and Framwellgate Bridge are medieval, both largely pedestrianised. Prebends Bridge is a formal, stylish, eighteenth century bridge in a wonderful woodland setting. Kingsgate Bridge (designed and built by Ove Arup) and the new Pennyfeather Bridge are both footbridges that are lovely to cross. Baths Bridge is the least interesting of the three footbridges. There are two road bridges: New Elvet Bridge and Milburngate Bridge. Of these two, the latter has the more interesting views being sited between two weirs.
A mile south of Durham are the outskirts of Shincliffe, the extended village in which I live. Built in seventeenth century, Shincliffe Bridge elegantly crosses the River Wear on the site of a former medieval bridge. Some hundred metres upstream is the site of a Roman bridge.
(More ...)
I have for ever given importance to bridges. My first bridge was that in the tale: Three Billy Goats Gruff, in which a troll or an ogre hid under the bridge and menaced each of the goats as they attempted to cross the bridge. Bridges harboured hidden dangers. My second bridge was more friendly: that from which Pooh, Piglet and friends threw sticks into the stream, thus creating the game of 'pooh sticks'. As a young adult, I painted a picture of this scene, and felt proud of my portrayal of the wooden construction of the bridge. For a number of years, I used the poem by William Wordsworth, On Westminster Bridge, as the de facto home page for my website.
Many people contemplate taking their life by leaping from a bridge. In this respect, the Clifton Suspension Bridge (Bristol, UK) has a gruesome reputation. The Tyne Bridge (Newcastle, UK) and the Wearmouth Bridge (Sunderland, UK) also have something of a bad reputation regarding suicidal people, not least because of the resulting substantial traffic hold-ups. Recently, I was driving over the Redheugh Bridge (Newcastle, UK) when I was held up for an hour by police officers who were trying to 'talk down' a "jumper" (their term).
Walking across, or at least onto, bridges is an activity that I have always found disproportionately meaningful. Crossing from one place to another, from Buda to Pest, from Newcastle to Gateshead, from Manhattan to Queens or to Brooklyn, from Westminster to Southwark, from Denmark to Sweden, feels like a change of state, of manner, or expectations. Driving over the bridge is second best, but preferable to not engaging with the bridge at all. I love naughtiness of the scene in the otherwise lacklustre movie Anger Management in which Dr. Buddy Rydell, the character played by Jack Nicholson, demands that Dave Buznik, the character played by Adam Sandler, stops the car he is driving during the rush hour over the Williamsburg Bridge.
When I, eventually, visit Sydney (Australia), I intend to take the guided tour of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
In Manhattan (New York, USA) it was a reverential moment when I set foot for the first time on Brooklyn Bridge. I have many photographs of the occasion. Walking across the Queensboro Bridge from Manhattan to Queens was demanding, but I am glad to have done it. I shall not feel as though I have visited San Franciso until I have walk across the Golden Gate Bridge.
In France, I have visited the Pont du Gard at Nimes, and the Pont Vieux in Avignon. It was wonderful to stand on the medieval bridge over the River Agout in Brassac (Tarn, France). However, of greater familiarity and significance are the various bridges across the River Seine in Paris. Their variety echo the vartiety of bridges across the River Thames in London (UK).
In Italy, it was important for me to walk cross the River Tiber, although I did not consider the bridges in Rome to be as inspirational as I had hoped. It goes without saying that I ache to walk on the Ponte Vecchio when I visit Firenze (Florence) for the first time. Of greatest Italian significance, however, are the bridges of Venezia (Venice). The vaporetto tannoy announcement "Rialto!" still rings in my ears. Despite their wheelchair unfriendliness, I love the bridges that cross the Canal Grande, as well as many of the smaller, less ostentatious bridges over obscure backwater Venetian canals.
In Germany I have walked across bridges in most of the cities I have visited, starting in the early 1970s with the Rein (River Rhine) in Koln (Cologne), and most recently the Spree in Berlin. I regret to holding a prejudice that German bridges are less singular and less romantic than they could be.
In Belgium, the canals of Brugge and Gent provide the opportunities for bridges, although it is the canals, rather than the bridges that I find attractive. In Amsterdam (Nederlands), though, the balance between canals and bridges feels a little more even. However, it is not easy to loiter on bridges in Amsterdam, for fear of being squashed by cyclists.
In Scotland in the late 1960s I crossed the River Tay, walking from Dundee and back again across the Tay Road Bridge. I had been driven in a coach across the Forth Road Bridge. It was only many years later that I drove my car across the Forth Road Bridge on my way from Edinburgh to Dunfirmline. However, on this latter occasion we stopped, parked the car, and walked onto the bridge, taking photographs of it, and its sibling bridge, the Forth Rail Bridge. I may, in fact, never have crossed the Forth Rail Bridge, other than in my imagination watching the movie The Thirty Nine Steps.
Driving south from Durham to Dover necessitates the uplifting experience of the Dartford Crossing (driving back north involves the Dartford Tunnel instead). Driving between Gloucestershire and South Wales is made special by crossing one or other of the now two Severn Bridges. When ploughing the Lancashire/Cheshire stretch of the M6, driving over the famous Thelwell Viaduct is a marvellous experience. I have never had occasion to cross the Humber, although I was excited to spy the Humber Bridge while overflying it en route from Newcastle to Amsterdam.
It gives me great satisfaction to walk from the Palace of Westminster across the River Thames. To me, Westminster Bridge is one (of several) centre of the world (Times Square in New York City is another). I ache to walk across the Millennium Bridge from Tate Modern to St Paul's Cathedral. It thrills me every time drive over Tower Bridge.
In Chester (Cheshire, UK) the Grosvenor Bridge is impressive-looking, but not very exciting to walk over. On the other hand, Handbridge, the medieval bridge, gives a sense of involvement with the River Dee. The suspension footbridge that spans the river from Grosvenor Park and the Groves to Queens Park and the Meadows is a holiday to walk across. Also in Chester are gates in the Roman and medieval city walls. As in York, these gates to the city are also bridges for pedestrians circumnavigating the city walls. Eastgate, with its world-famous clock, is a most pleasureable to stand and watch life pass beneath, up and down Eastgate Street and Foregate Street.
In York (Yorkshire, UK), my favourite bridges across the River Ouse are Lendal Bridge and the Ouse Bridge. In Sunderland (Tyne and Wear, UK) I have stood many a time on the Wearmouth Bridge looking downriver to the sea. In Newcastle I have sat eating my lunchtime sandwich on the Gateshead Millennium Bridge, driven many hundreds of times across the Tyne Bridge, made myself late by choosing to drive over the Swing Bridge, spontaneously ducked when driving over the High Level Bridge (with the East Coast Main (railway) Line on the upper deck), sped (in my car) across the Redheugh Bridge, and crawled (in trains) across the other rail bridge.
In Durham (Co. Durham, UK) I cross each of the bridges on foot, and some by car, with some frequency. Elvet Bridge and Framwellgate Bridge are medieval, both largely pedestrianised. Prebends Bridge is a formal, stylish, eighteenth century bridge in a wonderful woodland setting. Kingsgate Bridge (designed and built by Ove Arup) and the new Pennyfeather Bridge are both footbridges that are lovely to cross. Baths Bridge is the least interesting of the three footbridges. There are two road bridges: New Elvet Bridge and Milburngate Bridge. Of these two, the latter has the more interesting views being sited between two weirs.
A mile south of Durham are the outskirts of Shincliffe, the extended village in which I live. Built in seventeenth century, Shincliffe Bridge elegantly crosses the River Wear on the site of a former medieval bridge. Some hundred metres upstream is the site of a Roman bridge.
(More ...)
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