The waves of tears rolling down your raked and worn boards, towards.
A shimmering screen no longer lit, by the projector’s luminous fan.
The smoke of a million smoking cigarettes.
Rolling in gales to your rafters.
The six storey exterior was designed by A. E. Shannon and has very little decoration other than motifs over the entrance. Despite this, the building remains a very distinct feature on Lime Street. The building is listed for the grand interior, which is said to remain one of the designers – William R. Glen’s – best.
The cinema was renamed ABC Cinema in February 1971 and survived intact until 1982 when it was converted to three screens; the additional two mini cinemas were installed under the balcony. It was re-named Cannon in 1986 and remained so until closure in 1998. A building that many in the city remember using, The Forum finally closed its doors on the 28th of January 1998. It remains unused.
It say so here
Open temporarily to accommodate the 2016 Biennial, working in mixed and low light, this is the current state of affairs. its future however seems to have been resolved and assured as the plans for renovation and reuses as a gig venue are unveiled.
Take a look:
In the 1920’s Parisian chic swept across the chintzy wastes and waists of the war weary western world.
Moribund architectural style was alive with its gay geometry.
Look around any town anywhere, it’s there.
Sometimes, somewhat neglected, but it’s there.
Looking back at you.
Blackpool between the wars, expanding and competing with itself and others, was no exception, amusement, diversion and seaside indiscretion.
This is what remains, have a dekko:
For more years than I care to remember I have had an interest in Found Art.
The naturally occurring collision of printed material, the unseen hand and weather.
Our streets are literally littered with the stuff.
Conscious of the work of Kurt Schwitters, Hannah Hoch, Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg, I’m conscientiously out and about in search of the unconscious.
Here’s a sample of my findings so far:
I’ve been up to my ears in seawater recently, researching and visiting modernity on the coast – when the question was posed, is this particular marine typology to be found inland?
Well, yes it was – in thrall to the work of Bruno Taut’s work at Britz, amongst others, and motivated by a desire for newer, cleaner forms of architecture, often instigated by forward thinking socialist local authorities, the future was built.
As directed by the British Broadcasting Corporation in October 1937.
The future was subsequently knocked down and put back in its box.
However for a short while it looked like this:
– Kennet House on Smedley Lane, Cheetham Hill.
Many of these photographs were taken by Norman Newsham – who had the foresight to record the passing of this once great building, many thanks Norman.
Take a walk down there one day, take time to take a look at where the future was.
Beneath the pavement, the pavement.
Archival material thanks to:
For over thirty year you have weathered the storms of public ignominy.
The unloved Dustbin – repository of Tameside Council’s officers and offices.
Last time I was here you were there.
Then along came the ‘dozers.
Vision Tameside has left you in tiny pieces.
– poked out your eyes and stamped you into the ground.
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me. There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate. I called in my dream to the lodge-keeper, and had no answer, and peering closer through the rusted spokes of the gate I saw that the lodge was uninhabited.
Once upon a time there were council offices – then slowly there were not.
Built in the 1980s and met with almost immediate public disdain.
Welcome to The Dustbin.
An octagonal brick face concrete hub, anchoring three six storey walls, which enclose a central open courtyard area. Housing all central local authority offices.
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.
I’ve passed this way before, I know I have
We’ve all seen better days.
Time has not been kind, your face punched out, slots blocked, glasses shattered.
We all deserve better.
Careless hands, mindless neglect.
That ain’t no way to treat a post box.