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Manchester Graffiti in Northern Quarter

These pictures of Manchester graffiti were taken in March 2009, on my way back from a one-day trip to Southport. Northern Quarter has long been a favourite among Mancunians for its inimitable combination of boho chic, indie music and fashion, where bohemians from the art and techie scene were mixing with working class folks who gathered closer to the Big Issue North building.
Stevenson Square where these graffiti were adorning facades and subways is a very cinematic place, in my opinion. I could easily shoot a film there, a kind of psychedelic/Surrealist story. My camera would delve deep into lanes and look inquisitively towards Ancoats, while standing at the top of Newton St.
I am sure you can tell where I’d love to have a walk right now…

The Russian Manchester in the post-Soviet Era

Article first published as The Russian Manchester: How Ivanovo Is Finding Its Way in Post-Soviet Russia on Blogcritics.

People of Manchester, rejoice! No longer is Venice the only enviable comparison for a city – Manchester is, too.

In case you didn’t know, there are several “Manchesters” already existing. The historic English town was minutely described by Friedrich Engels, who had had the pleasure of studying the place while sharing a desk at the Cheetham School with Karl Marx. The rise in popularity of Marx and Engels’ works, as well as of the working class movement, led to many other European towns trying on Mancunian clothes for size. Usually being industrial, especially having cotton mills, and boasting a high percentage of working class people meant that a town might be described as another Manchester. Such were Lodz in Poland, Lille in France, Chemnitz in Germany, and Tampere in Finland.

In Russia, it was Ivanovo, or Ivanovo-Voznesensk, as it was called between 1871 and 1932. The town in the Volga region, not far from the millennium-old Yaroslavl, acquired a host of nicknames, affectionate and not, that would put many a city to shame. “The red Manchester”, “the Russian Manchester”, “the city of brides”, “the third proletarian capital”, “the city of red weavers”, “the textile capital”, as well as a few pejoratives, is just a selection of those descriptors that nonetheless gives a fine idea as to what “manchesterisation” means: red (reminding of brick, Revolution and Socialism), industrial and textile, and capital-worthy, although provincial.

At the dawn of the Soviet era, during the first Russian revolutions, Ivanovo was building on its historic experience of producing political advisors. It was from here that the Prince Pozharsky went to Moscow during the Mutiny Time in the first half of the 17th century when the Poles had quite literally seized power over Russia. It was here, as well, that the first Sovet (the Russian for “counsel” and “council”) had been formed in the beginning of the 20th century. Ivanovo’s reputation as a Sovet-ski town was sealed, but little used.

This monument commemorating the revolutionary ladies of Ivanovo greets you upon arrival to the railway stationIn Soviet times it came to be known as a city of brides, thanks to a film song. Intended as a gentle joke, that also pointed a finger at the real state of things: the number of cotton mills and calico factories was as high as the previous number of churches, and it was mostly women who worked there. At-home dads were a reality in Ivanovo before the same fate befell Western men. During the Revolution years, Ivanovo ladies had led the crowds; in Soviet times, they led the textile production. In both cases monuments to heroines were erected, although the statue to the Hero of Labour Valentina Golubeva was eventually removed because of the notoriety produced by Nikolai Obukhovich’s film, Our Mother Is a Hero (1979).

Following the demise of the USSR, Ivanovo, like nearly all Russian cities and towns, declined under economic stress and the overwhelming crisis of expectations. Much as the economy may have improved, the overwhelm remains. As with Manchester, the 19th century had been the springboard for Ivanovo’s economic growth, and throughout most of the 20th century its status as a proletarian capital was a comfortable cultural cushion. Unfortunately, unlike Manchester, Ivanovo failed to produce any zany music style or otherwise establish itself firmly as a fashionable threat to either Moscow or St. Petersburg. The famous Textile Academy is an alma mater for many designers, but most of them are determined to work in one of the two “real” capitals. The noughties turned out to be the time of having to come to terms with whatever was lost and of trying to find, exactly what to do next.


A house in the so-called workers' district. Some of the houses are over 80 years oldSome of these questions were raised recently at a conference dedicated to the town’s 140th anniversary. There is a funny ambiguity here: it is Ivanovo-Voznesensk, not Ivanovo, that is turning 140. Ivanovo itself is over 400 years old, but nobody appears to either celebrate this date, or to want to rename the city. The tendency towards nostalgia has been revealed, though. For historians, philosophers, geographers, and philologists this is not so much nostalgia for Stalin’s iron arm, but for the sense of security, including that of Ivanovo’s historical heritage. Over the past quarter of a century a lot of historic buildings and sights either vanished, were majorly remade, or entered a state of severe decline.

For someone who lived in the English Manchester, like I did for seven years, the story of Ivanovo is neither surprising nor unique. In fact, there are areas in Manchester that are also in a state of decline. The Ancoats Building Preservation Trust has worked hard and partnered with many UK organisations to renovate two of the historic mills and to actually give the district its second chance. Meanwhile, you need only leave Manchester city centre to find yourself face to face with the sites the British media usually keep private: derelict houses, ghost lanes where the windows and doors of all houses have been covered with iron or wooden boards, poverty, drug and alcohol abuse, and pretty much everything else you may expect to find at the backstage of an industrial and commercial megalopolis.

One of Ivanovo's factories looks like any normal historic sight...In this sense, Ivanovo, with its derelict factory standing a stones-throw away from a few museums, is hardly different. The decline is deftly hidden behind the imposing red-and-white brick walls, and is a curious, if terrifying, marriage of a quasi-war site and a place of an unknown epidemic. The epidemic had swept aside all the equipment and people; the invisible troops destroyed the building on the inside. A few sites you may come across in Manchester, Sheffield, and elsewhere in the UK are not quite dissimilar. They all cause a state of shock, followed by astonishment: how can this exist in a place that is otherwise advanced and cultured?

One of the streets in Sheffield, U.K.And yet, in Manchester and elsewhere, sites like this usually make a very fleeting impression. Perhaps this is how the efforts of the city developers pay off: you feel that something will be done sooner rather than later, and the mill will come back to life as flats, or offices. Where does the difference lie then? Is it the notorious East-West divide that harks back to Orientalist concepts and threatens to place Russia in the wrong cultural context? Or is it just an indication that Russia has yet to catch on to the development of media and advertising that successfully construct images that are not necessarily true to life?

The feeling of unworthiness certainly impedes the development of many Russian cities. Yekaterinburg, the real industrial capital sitting on the border between the European and Asian parts of Russia, is struggling to overcome its image as a bedsit of factorial monstrosity and pollution, also created by exiles. The quest for an alternative “image” is likely to be a sword of Damocles for many cities that historically relied on a single craft or industry to support their economy and justify their existence. And in this case some of them will inevitably feel that they do not have what it takes to become glamorous, if polluted. No wonder Ivanovo still feels more comfortable with its “revolutionary” branding. Little else seems to fit yet.

Hopefully, studying the examples of British and European Manchesters will help put the things into perspective. There was the time when Manchester was overshadowed by Salford; they have long swapped places. What the Russian Manchester really needs is a handful of resourceful, determined people who will be able to see the city’s potential in the political and cultural context of the new Russia, people who will rebrand the city and direct it towards new growth.

Manchester's Beetham Tower certainly possesses a strong symbolic powerThe only two things that currently seem to be in short supply in Russia are faith and enthusiasm. Or perhaps, they are just being diverted to a somewhat outdated, or irrelevant, cause. It is important to restore the churches and explore our religious faith, of course, but this is unlikely to improve the economy, attract the necessary foreign capital, or solve cultural problems. Ivanovo, along with most of Russia, needs to invest in its own potential, which goes well beyond religious beliefs. It has to find the audacity to be excited about its extra-capital status, to position itself vis-a-vis not only Moscow or St. Petersburg, but pretty much any other place on Earth. If there is anything the Russian Manchester can learn from its British elder sister, it is exactly this kind of bravura. But if a handful of places in Europe have already gone “Mense”, why cannot Russia?

Funny Moments in Russian Manchester

Yes, I spent two days in Ivanovo, formerly known as Ivanovo-Voznesensk, the so-called Russian Manchester. The town, too, used to be famous for its calico production; nowadays, sadly, some of the factories lie in ruins. I wanted to share a few “funny” photos, as there will be a few posts looking at the more sober sights of this provincial town.

I went on my own, but didn’t miss the chance to pose between two handsome guys. On the left – Travel advert

 

The Jolly Roger on board!

 

This inconspicuous building houses the Actor House bar
The monument to Revolution greets everyone who leaves Ivanovo Railway Station
One of the best adverts I’ve seen. “I’m tired of waiting!“the girl says. The second ring comes free of charge
A play on words: “pyatachok” means both “piglet” and “a five-copek coin” in Russian
A tattoo studio
One of the doggies willingly posed for me and a colleague
A sausage dog is liberally used as a bench
A monument to a famous Ivanovo chansonnier
I called this “Lenin in Context”
The Soviet mural. The boards on the balconies advertise an Internet Centre. The van delivers matresses.
Bespoke Ivanovo art: swans made of car wheels
And another sculpture: The well.

The Layers of Time: London, Manchester, and Moscow

London, 2004

The photo in London was taken on a film camera (affectionately known as a “soapbox”) in April 2004; it was the day when I walked from Fitzroy Street through High Holborn and via St Paul’s to the Tower of London.

The photo in Manchester was taken in 2007 on St Patrick’s Day, if I’m not mistaken.

Manchester, 2007

And the photo in Moscow was taken in the first two weeks of October 2010.

Each of them is peculiar in their own way, but I particularly love how they document the passage of time (London, Manchester) and how the past and the future rise to each other’s challenge (Moscow).

Moscow, 2010

Enter Reed.co.uk Short Film Competition

I know that when I’ve written Parma Ham, I’m going to dedicate it to the world’s largest direct marketing company. But while I’m writing that one, Reed.co.uk, a UK job advertising agency, has got along with the BBC Film Network, Screen Wm, Northern Film and Media, and Screen Yorkshire, for its annual Short Film competition. The task is to show your love for Mondays, and the winner gets 10,000K, plus there are three prizes for runners-up.

The page to find out the terms and where to send your videos.

The page to read more about competition.

Reed’s YouTube channel.

I guess entering the competition can at best open you the door into Film industry. And below is the video submitted by a Mancunian candidate. If you’re from Manchester reading this post, let’s see how many familiar places you can find!

The competition ends on 28 February, 2011.

The Irregular Ramblings of a Godless Liberal

In the past I vowed to not write about politics or religion, but a newsletter that recently came through the post is worth being “reprinted”. It raises a few valid points, and I am particularly glad to be living in the area where someone actually cares to write such a note.

Jehova’s Witnesses and similar religious sects always undergo a renaissance during the period of hardships. Film lovers can remember the scene with flagellants from The Seventh Seal. The first time Witnesses surfaced in Russia was at the turn of 1980s-1990s, when crime and deficit were on the rise, while politically the country was torn apart by conflicting ideologies. As the text below describes, one of my brightest memories of one of the Jehova’s converts is that of a tireless verbal fountain. I saw the woman many times on the street and on buses, always with a pack of booklets and a never-ending speech full of prophecies. The fact that they are becoming so active now in Britain is indicative of the period of social crisis the nation is surviving. People are reluctant to turn to the “traditional” Church, while they also know that such “common” methods of escaping the reality – hobbies, alcohol, drugs – cost money and don’t really bring satisfaction. And thus, rather than looking for a solution within themselves, confronting their lifestyles and choices, they embrace a new teaching that is far more dangerous…

Hi everyone,

Some thoughts on our local home-grown religious fundamentalists… Jehova’s Witnesses. 

If you live locally, you may have had a visit from the Jehova’s Witnesses last Sunday. Not only were the grown-ups out in force, but they had several children knocking at my door. Aside from the fact that these poor kids are brain-washed at such an early age, I’m not sure that it’s a good idea to let them on doors without an adult accompanying them on the doorstep…

So, what exactly do the Witnesses actually offer us…? Well, in a nutshell… Death! Yes, that’s right, folks, even if you’re a mainstream Anglican, Catholic, Jew, Islamist or even (god forbid!) an atheist like myself, unless you  kow-tow to the precise ravings of the Bible which this sad and sorry bunch of people say is the only interpretation, your reward is to be struck down by their (loving!) god, whilst a few tens of thousands of their chosen supporters return to a newly established Garden of Eden. I hope god has a good lawnmower, because it must be pretty overgrown by now. Oh, and if you’re gay, lesbian, or bi – you can add yourself to the above Divine hit list, too. 

Once upon a time various religious sects indulged their lunacies by making human blood sacrifices to their respective gods. Thankfully, that horror has disappeared, but lingers on in a very nasty way through the Witnesses. They are opposed to blood transfusions, and only a couple of years or so ago, in this country and the 21st century, a young mum, having just given birth to healthy twins, was denied a much needed blood transfusion which would probably have saved her life. Her husband, a devout Witness, refused the doctors’ offer of a transfusion, and she died. Two young children will now grow up without ever knowing their mother, and perhaps suffer a lifetime of guilt as a result of this insane piece of decision making by their parents. Whatever spin you want to put on this story, I call it religious murder. 

In May this year, 15-year-old Joshua McAuley, flown swiftly to Birmingham’s Selly Oak hospital after being crushed in a car accident, refused all appeals by doctors to allow them to give him a blood transfusion. He died soon after. This young man could have become a doctor, an actor, a lover, a father, perhaps even the man who discovered how to obtain limitless energy from the most abundant element in the universe, hydrogen. We will never know. Sickeningly, Clive Parker, an elder at the Kingdom Hall of Jehova’s Witnesses at Smethwick, said he did not want to talk about it because he ‘didn’t want to add to the family’s distress’. This nauseating response conveniently hides the fact that adults like Mr Parker are responsible for poisoning the minds of the young and impressionable in the first place. 

Anybody who allows their lives to be controlled and run by an imaginary, supernatural being is suffering from a delusion. Anybody who has researched the evidence for god, found it to be non-existent, and STILL chooses to believe, is therefore both delusional and a fool. Now, of course, anyone should be free to believe in the privacy of their own homes, meeting halls and churches, but once a religious organisation leaves the comfort of its home ground and trumps the streets spouting its dangerous nonsense, then anyone, myself included, has a perfect right to offer criticism and an alternative viewpoint. Which, of course, is the reason for this newsletter. 

The problems with (any) god is that its commands, rules and laws (remember, we are still talking about an imaginary entity) can be translated and used by anyone with a particular agenda and viewpoint, and (of course!) cannot be questioned by mere mortals. Neat, eh? 

And therein lies the problem, for it is precisely this kind of dangerous, non-thinking acceptance that can, and does, lead perfectly reasonable people to commit the most heinous acts in defense of their chosen religious dogma. We only have to consider the suicide bomber, or the Taliban who throw acid in the faces of young girls who commit the ‘crime’ of attending school, or the religiously accepted practice of surgically removing a young girl’s clitoris. 

Neither, as some religious apologists would have us believe, is religion the provider of absolute morality. The still unfolding scandal of child abuse within the deeply secretive Catholic church being a modern case in point. 

Our 4,600 million year old planet Earth orbits our sun in our galaxy, the Milky Way, in which there are many billions of stars and planets. We know, too, that there are billions of galaxies, and that our 13,7 billion year old universe is continuing to expand at an ever increasing speed. With both order and chaos as two sides of the same mathematical coin, there is no guarantee that we humans will survive indefinitely. Modern humans have only been around for some 200,000 years. By comparison, dinosaurs existed for 180 million years before becoming extinct. 

If we are continue to prosper and survive as a species, we must use carefully and thoughtfully the highly developed organ which can truly be said to separate us out from the rest of the animal world: our brain. 

As the 5th ape, we must recognise our place within the natural world, with the full understanding that we are an animal species which is part of a highly complex ecological web, but whose brain gives us the ultimate responsibility of managing the fate of our planet. It is a responsibility we must not shirk, and it can only be achieved by a calm and cool appraisal of who and what we humans really are. A continued and irrational reliance upon the supposed words of a ‘Father Christmas / fairies at the bottom of the garden’ god-type figure and the resulting subsequent subjugation of our truly amazing brain is clearly not the way forward.

David. 

Qype: Police and Fire Station in Manchester

Manchester

I am always amazed by the grandeur of civic architecture of the 19th c. Take this lovely vast terracota building on the corner of London Road. It occupies a triangular space circumscribed by adjacent streets and used to house, believe it or not, the Police and Fire Station. The building was erected between 1904 and 1906, and you can spot some fine architectural and decorative details throughout the facade. It was described as the finest fire station in the world, with which epithet one can hardly disagree.

 

Qype: Alan Turing Monument in Manchester

Manchester

The seated statue of the father-founder of computer science can be found in the middle of Sackville Gardens. The pensive professor gazes at the flowerbed in front on him, holding an apple. There seems to be little special in how Turing is represented: an almost typical genius, humble and lost in thought. The apple is thus the most peculiar part of the monument. It refers to Isaac Newton, the father of modern math and physics. It is also the symbol of forbidden love, and Turing’s statue is well placed by Canal Street. Indeed, Turing was gay, and it was his sexuality that reportedly led the Government to doubt his integrity in keeping the state secrets intact. Turing committed suicide by injecting an apple with cianide – another reason why he is depicted holding the fruit. It is amazing to contemplate the role an object (an apple on this occasion) can play in one’s life.

 

Qype: Cafe Muse in Manchester

ManchesterEating & DrinkingCafes & Coffee Shops

Although a part of Manchester Museum, Cafe Muse is open to everyone who ventured that far into Oxford Road. Don’t be misled by the rotund portico with columns: a cool, fresh, and rather minimalist interior awaits inside. I didn’t notice anything particularly funky on the menu, but my salmon with scrambled egg was well cooked. I guess it may be visited by students and professors more often now that the old refectory, next to Students’ Union, has gone.

 

Qype: St Philip’s Church in Salford

Salford

The church dedicated to St Philip was erected in this spot in 1825. The architect was Sir Robert Smirke who went on to design the Bank of England and the British Museum.

The church’s purpose was not limited to the spread of gospel. It was one of the so-called “Waterloo churches” intended to prevent the dissemination of the dangerous ideas of the French Revolution. Bizarrely, it was consecrated on St Matthew Day, and it didn’t go without a few hiccups.

One notices the imposing design of the church, and it is a particularly fine site, if seen from Chapel St. The commissioners wanted Smirke to place the grand porch and circular tower in the south end of the church, rather than the western end. In his turn, Smirke wanted his church in classical style. All in all, this is one of the most original buildings in Greater Manchester, and apparently boasts a copy on Leonardo’s Last Supper.

 

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