When I mention that during a trip to Los Angeles I visited some of the locations featured in the series Buffy the Vampire Slayer the majority of people curl their top lip, flex out one nostril, and utter the word ‘why?’ in such a way that their tone of voice refines the meaning of incredulity to a new level of purity. To a certain extent I guess they are right, most people pack a pair of shorts to enjoy the Californian weather rather than an anorak. Yet despite the inherent geek factor in this expedition we, I was accompanied by my friend and fellow devotee Sebastian, had enormous fun paying homage to officially ‘the best’ TV show of all time. Of course you don’t have to a fan of Buffy to enjoy LA (although it does help) but television and film provides a fascinating vehicle to explore a city which often proves difficult to love.

Roman Polanski quipped that “Los Angeles is the most beautiful city in the world...provided it’s seen by night and from a distance.” It’s difficult to disagree with this assessment. Even if you haven’t witnessed the magical glow of the illuminated street plan in person, you’ve seen the beguiling nocturnal view from the hills a hundred times on the big and small screens. Yet, as Polanski suggests, up close and personal the town appears less appealing. Los Angeles is a sprawling mass, dissected by massive freeways which offer the promise of connection but only serve to isolate and confuse. Frustratingly these rivers of asphalt seem continually congested with cars liable to log jam at any time. The homage to the automobile has allowed the city to seep out over southern California like the contents of leaky paint tin. The resulting lack of density means that LA is one of the least visitor friendly cities in the world.

Despite, or perhaps because of this, Los Angeles remains among my favourite destinations. It possesses an illusive allure and a seedy glamour best described in the works of Raymond Chandler. Indeed, getting to grips with LA requires detective work and there is no better way to play the sleuth than becoming a character in your own tourist screenplay. After all the most recognizable landmark in the city is an old real estate sign which acts as the emblem not only for the multi billion dollar film industry but also the city itself. Away from the self important Hollywood letters there are surprisingly few iconic structures to denote the low rise surroundings. A strange architectural anomaly given that, with over one thousand movies made there annually, LA is the most filmed place on the planet.

Continue reading "Finding Buffy, Los Angeles" »

Posted by Maurice on August 31, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (4)

A dingy campsite in a forlorn corner of south-west Scotland isn't the sort of place you'd expect to find immortalised in film, but then, The Wicker Man is no ordinary movie. The bizarre tale of pagan rites in a backward Scottish island hit the screens in 1973 and was promptly forgotten, but now its sinister bent, great cast and a groovy soundtrack put it right up there as one of the great cult movies. So much so that it has spawned a Hollywod remake, although the less said about that the better.

The original is set in Summerisle, a fictional island in the north of Scotland, but a tight shooting schedule meant the weather up north would have been too severe in October. Dumfries and Galloway had to make do. Not that it was exactly warm - the cast had to suck ice cubes to stop their breath showing in the supposed "summer" scenes. It's certainly not the place to be wandering around in your nightshirt, even beside a roaring fire.

Past the caravans of Burrowhead Holiday Village near Isle of Whithorn on the edge of the Irish Sea, the Wicker Man took shape. At the time, the Galloway Gazette reported that its construction was shrouded in secrecy lest “provoked by crowds of sightseers, the monster might break free of the scaffolding which imprisons him, devastating the surrounding countryside and terrifying the locals”¹. Two men were built - a larger one for the main shots, and a smaller one 500 yards away for the close-ups of Howie (Edward Woodward) and the final dramatic shot of the head tumbling into the sunset. [I'm not going into any more detail here in case you haven't seen the film]. The remains of the main man, as it were, have been destroyed by over-zealous visitors over the years but the stumps of the smaller one remain cemented into the cliff-top with the initials “WM” and the date 1972 carved into the base.

Continue reading "The Wicker Man's Legs, Burrowhead" »

Posted by Anne on August 27, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (3)

What is it about the Second World War that inspires such obsessive fascination in some folk? As a subject of 20th century history it is like a giant cuckoo in the nest, pushing out everything else that might divert attention away from it. Witness the history channels that broadcast wall-to-wall Hitler/Churchill documentaries. It evokes heroic values, courage, forbearance, all pulling together, digging for victory and making do and mending. Not to mention the perennial appeal of the uniforms, the fashions and the catchy tunes. I suspect that the cinema has something to do with it. There have been epic movies made on the subject every decade, practically since armistice was declared.

One such film is ‘Yanks,’ filmed in 1978, and starring Richard Gere. Locations in the Saddleworth area were used, and to mark this event Saddleworth hosts an annual weekend-long event that attracts Second World War aficionados from across the country. Attractions include the chance to admire original military vehicles and browse the handful of stalls selling vintage clothing, military garb and 2WW collectables. There’s also evening dances if you want to show off your jitterbugging skills. Most compelling of all is the chance to see enthusiasts dressed up as US Army sergeants driving round in jeeps and Nazi commanders in black leather trenchcoats.

We visited on the last day - a dull, cold and drizzly Sunday - and found that the village of Uppermill that was hosting the Yanks ‘camp’ had not yet roused itself. Indeed, it took some effort to find the camp at all, since signposting duties had been neglected. Our timing was off, we were thoroughly drenched by 10.30 and disinclined to hang around for the parade. This was a disappointment, because I had been looking forward to the “the biggest military convoy in the UK” and the attendant genuine army veterans that were to feature. We also missed the re-enactments of scenes from the film, with a Richard Gere look alike. As a reporter, I’m a sad failure, and certainly don’t have the fortitude of those wartime heroes who shrugged off bullets rather than raindrops.

Continue reading "Yanks Weekend, Saddleworth" »

Posted by Trevira on August 22, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (1)

In the height of the cold war, back in the days when our foes were defined and known and telephones had wires attached, the post office built a bomb proof telephone exchange on the banks of the Thames, between Cannon Street station and London Bridge. Its concrete is clad in GRP (glass reinforced polyester), bright even after 30 years exposed to the elements. With the windows presenting a dark contrasting surface, it's no shrinking violet. Deep in its subsurface heart, lurks giant generators to power the building in the event of attack from the enemy, evidenced by the huge cooling cubes on the roof of the building.

Designed by architects Hubbard, Ford and Partners, on its completion in 1975 Mondial House was the largest exchange in Europe. The striking stepped-back style allows unobstructed views of St Paul's Cathedral beyond in line with strict planning requirements for the area. The front of the building facing Upper Thames Street, incorporates its name in the concrete that surrounds the building, and also the fire station that sits under one corner.

If anything should be deemed to entitle a building to special protection, it's a slating from Prince Charles, describing it as "the dreadful Mondial House". "To me, this building is redolent of a word processor," he wrote, apparently as criticism. To me, it's more like the seminal Commodore PET computer, but that's a semantic difference - either way, Mondial House is a bold, striking, innovative building.

Continue reading "Mondial House, London" »

Posted by Ian on August 20, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (9)

This small Mid-Wales town - known in full as Llandrindod Wells - has two superb relics of 20th century motoring.

The first, and most obvious, is the Automobile Palace. It was built as a 'Palace Of Sport' in around 1906, and given its current name in 1925. It was a garage until the 1980s and now houses various offices, shops and The National Cycle Collection, a cycling museum. It's on the main A483 road through Llandrindod.

It was built by Tom Norton, an adventurous businessman who arranged commercial flights on the 'Dole' (Welsh 'dol', meaning 'meadow') - a field by the river Ithon/Ieithon. To this day his work on aviation is recorded by the word 'aircraft' alongside 'cycles' and more mundane advertisements on the sides of the building.

The second building is Pritchard's garage in the centre of town, on the corner of Station Crescent and Temple Street. This is more overlooked but has a beautiful facade which sadly shows signs of decay. Its bright blue and white frontage records the makes of cars once sold there, now passed into motoring history, including Sunbeam and Commer. I believe it still functions as a garage to this day.

Both buildings serve as a reminder that Llandrindod was once a huge draw for tourists in its heyday as a spa town. Though quieter, it's still a lovely place, and well worth a visit.

Continue reading "Llandrindod's Garages, Mid-Wales" »

Posted by Rich on August 16, 2006 | Permalink

The first call for submissions hasn't come up with much so it's time to cut to the chase and start naming names.The following places would be ideal. Some I've been to but for various reasons (too long ago/no decent pictures/passed by but didn't stop) don't have enough to write a piece on them.

• An old plane that's been made into a tearoom, somewhere on the South Island, New Zealand
• Napier, New Zealand
• Moeraki Boulders, NZ - I've got photos but it was a long time ago... memory hazy.
• Vigeland Park, Oslo - camera broke after juice spillage. Lovely place.
• Collodi Park, Near Lucca, Italy - I was here as a kid and loved it. Saw it recently on TV. It doesn't seem to have changed much.
• Palais Ideal, Hauterives, France
• The Rock Garden, Chandigarh, India, and any other backyard paradises
• Canberra, Australia
• Moomin World, Naantali, Finland
• Raymond Peynet Museum, Antibes
• The Laurel & Hardy Museum, Ulverston
• St Peter's Seminary, Cardross
• Imber, Salisbury Plain
• Mother Shipton's Cave, Knaresborough, Yorkshire
• The sort of "unsung landmark" that the BBC are currently after - power stations, cement works, gasometers, brutalist carbuncles.
• The sort of thing that was on Disappearing London, but from any city e.g. grand old cinemas, cafes, lidos etc.

That's a good start for now. Places from outside the UK are particularly welcome. Anyone willing to write something up? See the guidelines for articles for notes on the format or get in touch (anne@nothingtoseehere.net) if you'd like to discuss anything.

Happy trails.

Posted by Anne on August 10, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (5)

If you ask directions to Manchester Metropolitan University's Hollings Campus you might get some blank looks, but if you ask for the Toast Rack everyone will know what you mean. Once you catch sight of it there’s no need to explain its nickname – it's a huge tapering building with parabolic concrete arches on top that give it the look of a great big toastrack. There is a legend that in the 1970s students made a giant slice of polystyrene toast and stuck it on the roof for rag week. And if that wasn't enough, to augment the big breakfast theme there is an adjoining building which being small and round is known as The Fried Egg.

The culinary moniker fits well as the building, described by renowned architectural historian Sir Nikolaus Pevsner as "a perfect piece of pop architecture" began life as a classroom block for Manchester’s Domestic and Trades College which had been teaching cookery and domestic science in various incarnations since 1901. It is now home to MMU's Faculty of Food, Clothing and Hospitality Management. With over 2,000 students it is the largest concentration of domestic science students in the UK - and yes, they do sandwich courses.

The buildings were designed in 1958 by City Architect L. C. (Leonard) Howitt who was also responsible for re-modelling the interior of Manchester Free Trade Hall after the original was destroyed in WWII, and designing the Crown Courts in Crown Square. Although it looks playful, there was a practical intent. The tapering shape provides different sized teaching spaces for small or large classes (although the varying room sizes reportedly caused heating problems until the building was refurbished in the 1990s). Beside the main building there are tailoring workshops which were kept separate to minimise noise from the sewing machines, and “The Fried Egg” - a low round building with a circular hall intended for catwalk shows which houses the library and two refectories.

Continue reading "The Toast Rack, Manchester" »

Posted by Anne on August 08, 2006 | Permalink

As you travel along the A66 on the edge of Darlington you'll see a train on one side of the road. Nothing unusual there except that this one isn't going anywhere. Designed by leading contemporary artist and sculptor David Mach, Train is made from 185,000 local "Accrington Nori" bricks and commemorates Darlington's illustrious heritage as "home of the railways". (The Stockton-Darlington Railway which opened in 1825 was Britain's first permanent steam locomotive railway). Mach describes his train as "as much a piece of architecture as a sculpture". 60 metres long and 6 metres high, it is a perfect rendering of the 1938 classic locomotive "Mallard", complete with plume of billowing smoke.

Creating a large scale, life-like whole out of thousands of commonplace objects is Mach's trademark. Apart from Train he has made a number of artworks worldwide such as The Temple at Tyre out of car tyres and his Big Heids beside the M8 near Glasgow out of steel piping. He puts his interest in mass-production down to a job in a bottling plant he had as a young man back home in Fife. But even though the constituent parts may be common, the end result is far from throwaway and his work is usually thoughtfully designed and painstakingly constructed with sensitivity to the local area and its long-term future.

To create the train a 5 metre long maquette was built - "a substantial piece of sculpture in itself" according to Mach. This was then scanned and produced in drawing form, then redrawn on computer. The construction was "a painful, boring process" involving a team of architects, engineers, bricklayers, quantity surveyors, mortar experts and the artist himself, there to make sure that each brick was in exactly the right place. The team of 34 took 21 weeks to build it and thoughtfully included 20 special "bat" bricks to encourage our nocturnal friends to nest there.

Continue reading "David Mach's Train, Darlington" »

Posted by Anne on August 06, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (3)

The first time visitor to Tobacco Dock could be forgiven for thinking that they have arrived at a building nearing completion. It is immediately clear that the nineteenth century warehouse has been lovingly restored from a repository for imported goods into a modern shopping emporium. Everything is in place, fancy fixtures and fittings, stylish walkways and smart glass fronted units fully prepared for arrival of High Street names to breathe new mercantile life into the historic brick walls. Unfortunately Tobacco Dock is not waiting to be launched but rather sits becalmed after opening its doors in 1990. The crew that once manned the shops have long since abandoned ship and on this retail Marie Celeste CCTV cameras search for non existent miscreants.

Yet the story started so brightly back in the booming mid 80’s when stock markets were sky high and yuppies were busy buying red Porsches, listening to Phil Collins and carrying mobile phones that weighed half a tonne. During these heady days Brian Jackson and Lawrie Cohen had the bold idea to build a version of Covent Garden in the east end. Their ambition cannot be doubted and the selection of the stunning Tobacco Dock as a location seemed inspired.

The warehouse into which Cohen and Jackson would invest millions was designed by architect David Alexander as part of a much larger development built in 1811-14. This was a period of rapid commercial expansion along the Thames and businessmen hurried to keep up with the explosion in the sea-going transportation of goods. With London at the epicentre of the global market the demand for new storage and reception facilities for raw materials was enormous. In response Alexander collaborated with engineer John Rennie to mastermind the construction of London Dock. When completed the site covered 30 acres and specialised in high-value luxury commodities such as ivory, spices, coffee and cocoa as well as wine, tobacco and wool, all stored in elegant warehouses and cellars. Tobacco Dock was one part of this giant scheme and originally covered 20,000 square meters. The two fifths which remain standing today showcase an evolutionary architectural phase which, before the use of metal beams, combined timber and cast iron to make horizontal roof spans.

Continue reading "Tobacco Dock, London" »

Posted by Maurice on August 01, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (3)