Change

 

You could still walk down Shaw Lane, Halifax, today and see little change to this view I took over fifty years ago. The mill buildings are still there, the cobbles are still set into the street. The wooden shed and railings are gone, the stone is a bit cleaner and there has been a bit of tidying up; but little has changed to the exterior of the building. Step inside the mill buildings, and it's a different story (or it was before lockdown and, hopefully, will be once again post lockdown). The rattle of looms has been replaced by the calming quiet of art galleries, the cheerful chatter of cafe patrons, and the frenzied exertions of keep fitters.

Long, Warm And Dry

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GLENGOYNE 18 YEAR OLD HIGHLAND SINGLE MALT WHISKY

The nose was supposed to be "awash with red apples and ripe melon" I got that, but I also got the slightest hint of a freshly opened bottle of Tippex as well. After a moment it was supposed to "drift into hot porridge topped with brown sugar",  which it did, but perhaps with a nod in the direction of liquorice roots as well. The taste was said to be "full bodied, round and rich": and it certainly gets a tick for each of those - as full bodied as a sumo wrestler, as rounded as my lockdown waist, and as rich as my Auntie Amy's third husband was supposed to be. Unlike Uncle Joe, it didn't disappoint. The finish was reputed veto be "long, warm and dry" - the perfect recipe for a Covid winter.

Pin OK Oh!

 

The origins of large-scale public sculpture in Halifax go back even further than the magnificent Striding Concrete Man (aka Burdock Way). Who can forget the monumental plastic bowling pin of a decade earlier? Built on a scale to rival Barry's town hall, for much of the sixties it stood like a beacon to cultural imperialism in the land of crown-green bowling. 

Photo-Me, Victoria

 

Some people say that photographs today are as cheap as chips. This is untrue, as anyone who has been to a fish and chip shop recently will know: a bag of chips can set you back the best part of £2. Photographs, captured on smart phones and shared with friends are essentially free goods, and like all free goods, we tend to take them for granted. We can snap a selfie, and if it doesn't hold up to our glorified self-image, we can dump it quicker than a political adviser.

Go back 150 years, and that was not the case; photographs were a rare thing, something you had to save up for, pose for, and frown for. Nobody was willing to pass up their one chance of immortality in exchange for a cheap grin or a cheeky gesture. If you go back thirty or so years ago, however, back to the late pre-digital age, it was the era of the photo booths. You could put a coin in a machine and produce four portrait poses: one serious one for your passport or driving licence, and three silly ones just for the fun of it. 

So how would our perceptions of the Victorians be changed if they had coin-in-the-slot Photo-Me booths? Perhaps we would be left with more than endless portraits of serious and unsmiling faces. Modern technology helps us to test these theories out, so here is our Victorian lady relaxing in front of the Photo-Me camera .... with a little help from Photoshop's new Neural filters!

We Called It Burdock Way

 

Burdock Way Under Construction (1971) Alan Burnett

In recent years, large scale outdoor public sculptures which create enduring landmarks have become popular. Examples are Antony Gormley's Angel of the North in Gateshead and Andy Scott's The Kelpies in Grangemouth, Scotland. Few people realise that Halifax was a pioneer of this artistic movement, with its monumental sculpture completed in the early 1970s. We called it Burdock Way.

Beer Speaks, People Mumble

 

In these strange and difficult times, we are all in search of a meaning to life; an explanation and a guiding principle that we can chalk up on a banner and carry it forward with pride and the hope of a better future. We can find inspiration in all manner of places: the smile of a new-born baby or the glorious colours of Autumn. I found mine on a beer bottle label. 

I have no idea where the beer bottle came from, it was in my fridge and, last night, was next in line to be opened. Opened it was, and the contents consumed - remarkably tasty, new wave American IPA at its best - and afterwards, as the sun set over Bradley Bar Roundabout, I started to read the label. It goes, as follows:-

"The beer in your hand has achieved what we all hope for ourselves; to be made new again. There is freedom in burning down the house of expectations and it confers an undeniable lightness to being.We didn't invent these truths; they invented us. Beer speaks, people mumble."

Oh you can keep your Spinoza and Kant, embrace your Nietzche or Wittgenstein: give me a bottle of Lagunitas Daytime Session IPA any day.

A Different Time, A Different Place

I can't quite pin down the exact location of the photograph I took back in 1974. It is Halifax, without a doubt; that is Beacon Hill, more than likely: but the scene must have changed over the decades, and I can't pinpoint it on Google Earth. It might be that I have scanned the photograph back to front, the hills might be the other way around, the house roofs might be rising not falling. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter - even with a bit of added colour, it is a different time and a different place.

Quality Street

 

John Mackintosh, Albion Mills, Halifax (c1974)

My father worked at Mackintosh's in Halifax. Every so often, he would bring a bag of what were known as "Throw-Outs" home; misshapen chocolates which were sold off cheap to the factory workers. Whilst this meant a plentiful supply of chocolates for me as a child, you soon got fed up of orange creams and strawberry delights. What I never got fed up of, however, were the colourful cellophane wrappers that encased each of the famous Quality Street selection. You could hold these up to the world and transform the view: skies could become purple and grass blue. You could even hold them up in front of your black and white television and imagine what colour TV might be like if it ever was invented. And for me, these cellophane filters provided an introduction to the wonders of Photoshop.

Neon Memories

This is a photograph of George Square in Halifax, taken - as far as I can remember - in the mid 1960s. You don't get to see much, just a few neon signs and fuzzy shop windows, but you don't need to see much to spark a memory. This is Halifax's answer to Times Square or Piccadilly Circus: a tobacconist and a pram shop. You might not be able to hear it, but there is a soundtrack playing in the background to this picture: something suitably smokey and jazzy. The rain is falling, and you are on your way home from the pictures; heading for the bus stop hoping to make the last bus home. Neon memories.

Halifax Decorations

 

I must have taken this photograph of Horton Street in Halifax, and the fine spire of Square Church sometime in the mid to late 1960s. It was at a time when Halifax was still at the shabby end of the shabby-chic continuum. In order to advertise his credentials, the decorator who inhabited the upper parts of this corner building had done his best to add some colour to the scene. The shop part of the building seems to be dedicated to a  window display of sacks of potatoes. The building is long gone, as distant a memory as the soot on the church spire: Halifax decorations of the past, both of them.

Change And The Wool Merchant

For more than a century a wool merchant has dominated the junction of King Street and Mulcture Hall Road in Halifax. For most of that time the building was the premises of the wool merchant business of H Holdsworth, but more recently it has been the home of the Wool Merchant Hotel. Whether trade or tourism, textiles or hospitality, the building stands proud, like some Calderdale Coliseum.

My photograph was taken in 1970 and for comparison there is also a current screen grab from Google Streetview. If you are bored in lockdown with nothing to do, you can always play a game of Spot The Difference between the two images. I don't want to spoil things for you, but to start out with there is the colour of the stone and the hillside covered in trees. That is only a start, if you look carefully enough you can easily come up with a substantial list. That's change for you!