Beswick – Manchester

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Between Openshaw and Bradford sits Beswick.

Beswick is a small district located on the east side of Manchester bounded by Ashton Old Road, Ashton New Road and Grey Mare Lane and was incorporated into Manchester in 1838. Pronounced Bes-ick the “w” is silent. Before 1066, in Saxon times, the district was called Beaces Hlaw – Hlaw was an old word for a small hill, often used as a burial mound. By the 13th century it had changed to “Beaces Wic” indicating that the area was predominantly farm land. Who or what the Bes element of the placename signified is open to interpretation, though the simplest and most plausible is that it belonged to a person called Bes or Bess.

In the 60s it was, as I remember it, a typically vibrant mixed East Manchester community, industry, housing, retail, entertainment and goodness knows what bumping along together incautiously, down tight streets of Victorian terraced housing. I worked in the area as a Mother’s Pride van lad, hauling bread, cakes and galvanised trays in and out of a plethora of superabundant corner shops.

The year of 1970, approximately, dawns, ushering in a decade of great change, slum clearance and the building of brand new homes – the end, by and large, of the back to back corner shop world.

A process mirrored in my previous post

10 years later, and long gone the years of postwar full employment, and the made round to go round world of the weekly wage.

The early 1980s saw growing unemployment and world-wide recession. The large new estates suffered most. Inner city districts of Manchester saw street riots in 1981, as did many other major cities around Britain. Manchester had suffered badly as a result of the recession. In 1986, over 59% of adult males living in Hulme were unemployed; in Miles Platting the figure was 46%; Cheetham Hill and Moss Side both had an unemployment rate of 44%. The main group of unemployed were young people under the age of 21. Hulme’s youth employment was recorded at 68%, and Cheetham Hill suffered 59%. 

Manchester 2002

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It is true that the new developments have great advantages in many ways over the terraces they replaced. Tenants who live in houses without baths or indoor sanitation and with no hot water are delighted to move into bright new flats and maisonettes, with indoor plumbing, with baths, and accommodation which has more rooms and far better kitchen facilities and central heating, even though they sometimes grumble at the cost of that central heating.

Gerald Kaufman MP

But although we can build a new housing development, we cannot easily recreate the warm community spirit which has vanished with the terraces which have been demolished. There is the noise from neighbours on the deck above and the deck below. The wind-swept balconies along which tenants have to walk are not as cosy as the streets from which they have come. Those welcoming corner shops, with their bright lights on winter evenings, have gone, and sometimes a new development has no new shops for too long a period. Even when they come, there are not enough of them.

The scale of the buildings is often daunting. I have in mind Fort Beswick and Fort Ardwick in my own constituency. The design is frequently all too forbidding. That is why the two estates are called Forts

When the tenants of these development have lived in cosy old houses, however inadequate they were in terms of physical provision, they are bitterly disappointed by the shortcomings of new property which they have looked forward to occupying.

Handsard – Multi-Storey Developments 1974

The year of 1990, approximately, dawns, ushering in a decade of great change, multi-storey development clearance and the building of brand new homes – the end, by and large, of the one on top of another topsy-turvy world.

Fort Beswick was subsequently demolished.

The beat goes on as Len Grant records the most recent redevelopment of East Manchester.

And the M.E.N shouts loud and proud from the roof tops, heralding a brand new, privately funded public domain

Picture credits Manchester Image Archive

Coverdale Crescent Estate – Ardwick

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions and as it would subsequently transpire, loosely attached Bison concrete wall-frame system panels.

Wythenshawe apart, the City of Manchester admitted that it had 68,000 houses described as “grossly unfit” by 1959. 

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Its solution was to demolish 90,000 dwellings between 1954 and 1976 and to erect 71,000 dwellings by way of high rise flats and to move residents out to newly prescribed “overspill” estates – at Heywood and Langley in the north, Hyde in the east and Worsley in the west.

Most of these displaced people, however, found themselves resettled in tall tower blocks, which, no matter how architecturally innovative, or how improved their facilities, proved disastrous in social terms. 

Manchester 2002

In Coverdale Crescent Ardwick such an architecturally innovative development was built.

The estate, which became known as Fort Ardwick, was a deck access block of 500 homes. Completed in 1972, it was built with the same Bison concrete wall-frame system that had been used in neighbouring Fort Beswick.

By the mid-1980s it was clearly suffering from structural faults. The council employed a private firm of consultants to survey the estate, which found that water was leaking through roofs, steel fixings were corroded and concrete was breaking away. The council had to spend £60,000 immediately to bolt 1,100 panels back on to the building’s internal skin. The city architect, David Johnson, claimed that the report highlighted the rapid deterioration of Fort Ardwick’s fabric.

They said it was shoddy, thrown up, not enough care taken. The concrete panels weren’t made properly – the holes didn’t quite line up. You know what it’s like – you’re putting a flatpack cupboard together and something’s not in the right place but you just bodge it instead of sending it back, starting again, because you want the cupboard up and you’ve got other shit to do.

They had to get these consultants in, after they’d finished, to rebolt all the panels or something , so the whole thing didn’t fall down. Cost a bloody fortune my nan said, and that’s our taxes. And even then the rain got in. They’d put straw between the concrete, which sounds a bit medieval to me, and no-one wants wet straw walls, right? Cockroaches and rats and mould and that.

My nan remembers when they knocked down the terraces. I remember when they knocked down the fort. And maybe they had a point about it being shoddy, because soon as the diggers got their claws in, the whole thing fell to pieces, like it was made out of cardboard and bits of sellotape, not concrete and glass. A fort one week, a pile of rubble the next. No-one wept for it, they say.

I didn’t cry, but I stood at the end of the street and watched the diggers pawing at the walls, ripping the place to bits, our old kitchen wall gone and the cooker and the cupboards and the crap plastic clock just there for everyone to see. Except there was no-one else looking.

Sarah Butler

Local MP Gerald Kaufman reported to Parliament in 1974 that, during a conversation with residents, one of them had proclaimed that

“If Labour wins the election, it ought to do two things: abolish the House of Lords, and demolish Fort Ardwick.”

The estate was demolished in the 1980s and the new Coverdale Estate was constructed on the site in 1994.

The House of Lords still stands unabashed by the Thames.

Photo credits H Milligan 1971 LIC and MMU Visual Resource

Best Launderette – Brunswick Street Manchester

I was out walking on the corner one day.

I spied some old washing.

In the doorway it lay.

Well there was a doorway, but no door.

There was a door, but not attached to the doorway.

Well there was washing, I had inadvertently found the Best Laundrette.

Unattended, seemingly unloved, washing spinning happily, unobserved.

Guantanamo orange walls, stormy petrol blue sky linoleum floor.

Lit by several stark, bare fluorescent tubes.

I quickly went about my business, made my excuses to myself and left.

 

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Pegwell Bay Hoverport

Once, for a very, very  long time indeed there was a shoreline, then sure enough, eventually there was a Hoverport – then there wasn’t.

Opened in 1969 just outside Ramsgate along the Kent coast, Hoverlloyd a Swedish owned company began a cross-channel hovercraft service to Calais.

Along came Prince Philip:

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/prince-philip-opens-hovercraft-at-ramsgate

Can came:

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And went:

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The passengers’ every need was attended to with alacrity and style.

“As a Stewardess your appearance was paramount, a beautician would come in during training to teach us how to apply make up.”

 

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But it simply wasn’t enough.

The life of Christopher Cockerell’s bold British invention, was short and bumpy.

Genevieve Payne, a former stewardess:

“I remember the summer of 1979 as a year of really bad weather and rough seas.”

“I was working on a craft in a force 8, so on this day we were literally hitting the ceiling, passengers were throwing up everywhere.”

“One lady became hysterical I had to slap her to calm her down.”

By the 1980’s Pegwell and the hovercraft were in terminal terminus decline.

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It’s a lot less bother without a hover.

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What prevails is the shoreline, a concrete landing skirt and the slow process of reclamation, as nature decides that the council is quite right to decide to create a nature reserve.

Thanks to and for further information http://www.hoverlloyd.org/index.html

Here it is today:

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Oldham Street – Manchester 2016

Following my previous post of archival images of Oldham Street, I took a walk along its length a week ago, to record what remained of the post war past.

Gone again the blackened façades, exuberant and differentiated signage.

Woolworth’s burnt out long ago, never to return, exit also C&A, don’t forget your coat and hat.

Affleck’s – same name different place.

Yates’s three down none to go, the last all-in is all out.

Three pubs prevail, some serving craft ale to the not so crafty.

Methodist Main Hall is mainly well-used and well, loved.

In low Winter light the upper floors dance in shadow and sun-glow, against a brighter than bright blue sky.

A crazy range of saw-toothed roof tops colliding.

Oldham Street survives.

 

 

 

Gorsey Bank – Stockport #1

Tucked in between the River Mersey and the A560 were some 200 homes.

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Inter-war social housing comprising Gorsey Bank Road, Seacombe Grove, Egremont Grove, and Wirral Crescent, names evoking some not too distant shore, or leafy idyll.

 

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During a night raid, October 1940, they fell victim to a line of bomb damage from Portwood, Cheadle Heath and Cheadle as a bomber tracked a train on the railway line. 

The photographs were taken by an Air Raid Warden the morning after the bombing. 

The house on the left is No 12, the home of Tom and Louisa Nyland and their children Tom aged 4 and Maureen aged 2. Mrs Nyland received a head wound but no one was killed. The house was rebuilt and the family moved back into the house after the war. 

Patrick Nyland Date : 03/05/2014

Here is Jack Oldham’s fascinating account of his wartime experience on the estate.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/41/a2280241.shtml

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Post war the estate prevails, there are no available accounts of events there, one assumes that little of moment occurred, save people going about the business of living their lives.

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Refurbishment was undertaken during the 1970’s

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There then follows a tale of decline, crime and associated social problems, which concludes with the estate’s demolition in the late 1990’s.

Sheila Bailey, who became a local councillor for the area in 1990, said:

“There were many law-abiding citizens living on the Gorsey Bank estate but, as usual, it was a minority ruining it for the rest.

“A lot of money was spent on the estate in the 1970’s in an attempt to change the culture but the area just deteriorated.”

“Clearing the estate was a long process and a difficult period, but it did reduce anti-social behaviour in the area.”

She added: “No one is particularly sorry to see the back of the Gorsey Bank estate.”

http://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/local-news/its-the-end-of-an-era-for-boroughs-worst-1028217

My thanks to the Stockport Image Archive

http://www.stockport.gov.uk/services/leisureculture/libraries/libraryonline/stockportimagearchive/sia/

 

Oldham Street – Manchester

In the early 18th century, Oldham Street was apparently:

“An ill-kept muddy lane, held in place on one of its sides by wild hedgerows”.

In 1772, a privately owned track which is now known as Oldham Street was given to the public. The road took its name from Adam Oldham rather than from the place name. He was an acquaintance of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, which could account for the Oldham street location of the Methodist Chapel, opened by Wesley in 1781. Central Hall replaced the Chapel in 1885.

The area around Oldham Street became more affluent, with warehouses and shops, many of whose merchants lived within their shop premises. This is described by Isabella Varley, Mrs. Linnaeus Banks, a resident of Oldham Street, in her book The Manchester Man.

One Oldham Street shopowner mentioned by a number of writers is Abel Heywood, who spearheaded the mass distribution of books, supplying the whole country not only with penny novels, but also with educational books and political pamphlets. Heywood went on to become Mayor of Manchester.

The general well to do, mix of hustle and bustle, pubs, warehousing, grand stores, smaller specialist shops and services continued into the 1970’s. Woolworths, C&A, Affleck and Browns, Cantors, Dobbins attracted a steady flow of happy shoppers, I loved the mongrel nature of the mixed use architecture.

The focus if the city centre then slipped away to the newly built Arndale and pedestrianised Market Street.

Oldham Street awaited a new sense of place and purpose.

With thanks to http://www.manchester.gov.uk/info/448/archives_and_local_history/326/historical_photographs_of_manchester

 

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Market Street – Manchester 2016

Following my previous post on Market Street, using archive material from the 60s and 70s, I was prompted to record the current state of the street.

To the east is the Arndale, I chose to concentrate on the western elevation and the extant facades that chart a story from Victorian to Moderne – with a little rebuild, pastiche and grandiose Classicism in between.

See what you think, the sooty deposits have long been sandblasted away, much of the previous exciting noise and clutter, of above eye level signage ceases to shout, from just below the rooftops.

It’s a cleaner, leaner and possibly meaner world.

http://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/greater-manchester-news/manchesters-market-street-named-sixth-9421149

It always pays to look up – just don’t inadvertently bump into things.

Market Street – Manchester

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City streets are by their nature subject to movement and change, things literally come and go – in milliseconds, days and decades. People and places are shaped by the forces of function and fashion, economics and history.

Before the Arndale,  pre-pedestrianisation, Market Street, from the Fifties until the Seventies, was one of Manchester’s key arterial, retail thoroughfares. Mixing mixed traffic, shops, cafés and restaurants, bars, cinemas, offices and administration.

The architectural skyline, had the raggedy silhouette, of a century of build and rebuild.

Lower your eyes, there’s Classical, Gothic, Baroque, local Rococo, Deco, Moderne and Modern – that’s right Madam no two the same, four for a pound, get it while you can.

Lower still, things are still never still, a riot of colour in black and white Vitrolite.

Neon abounds, the names are never changed to protect the innocent.

Local traders are slowly replaced by national and international multinationals.

You have nothing to lose but but your chain-store now.

 

 

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Henry Cohen came to Manchester around 1880. In 1910 he opened a men’s clothing outlet at the corner of Market Street called the Smart Outfitting Company. Having turned down a chance to join Marks and Spencer, he eventually built his department store in Market Street which opened in 1923. Henry’s Stores was redeveloped in the early 60’s acquiring an extension and a unifying Modernist façade, the site and store was acquired by BHS in the mid 60’s.

Rylands Building is a Grade II listed building in the building was originally built as a warehouse by the Rylands textile company which was founded by John Rylands. The building was designed by the eminent Manchester architects, Fairhursts, in an Art Deco style. It is clad in Portland stone and features a decorative corner tower and eclectic ‘zig zag’ window lintels.

Following a fire, in 1957, which totally destroyed the premises of Paulden’s Department Store, in All Saints, the company acquired the Rylands warehouse building and converted it to a store. This was then a direct rival to the Lewis’s store, on the opposite side of Market Street. In 1973 Debenhams, the owner of Pauldens rebranded the store in their name. Since that time it has remained Debenhams.

Marks and Spencers and Burton’s both undertook extensive Modernist building in the early 60’s on on the Corporation Street site, neither have survived. The Chelsea Girl steel frontageUCP Restaurant beloved of the Manchester Modernists, Kardomah Café and countless other landmarks are long gone. Lewis’s has become Primark.

The double indignity of the Arndale and a bomb have changed things forever.

Nothing stands still – this is Market Street.

With thanks to http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

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Chelsea Girl

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Liverpool – The New Penny Farthing

89 Roe St – tucked into the side of the sprawling St John’s Centre car park and a cosily withdrawn corner of the Royal Court Theatre.

The New Penny Farthing.

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A name which instantly evokes arcane loose change and strange bicycles.

Each time as I pass I’m drawn in, yet never enter.

Amazed by the array of ever changing signage, happy hours abound.

It’s a happy house, we’re happy here.

A dark drinking den awaits within, the daytime drinker abides, imbibing.

Stay new.

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Liverpool – Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King

Possibly, probably and inevitably the finest Modernist building in Britain.

It continues to surprise the surprised visitor on each successive visit.

A compelling structure which articulates the ever changing marine light, both inside and out – physically and spiritually.

Dizzy detail waiting to be discovered and rediscovered.

A decorative order of the highest order.

Treat your body and mind to a day out – or simply banish the last traces of Cartesian Dualism and immerse yourself, soon.

http://www.liverpoolmetrocathedral.org.uk

 

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Park Hill – Sheffield

An estate with a chequered career.

Once a beacon of Modernist design, now a listed concrete grid, in arrested decline, an essay in status and stasis, high above the city of Sheffield.

A handful of former residents of the once acclaimed social housing, cling to the western edge.

Phase one of the Urbansplash redevelopment has carefully coloured in a portion of the eastern corner, then exited, their cladding tucked tightly under their arms.

Impasse.

All tinned up with nowhere to go, to walk the walkways, is to enter a ghost town, where no tumbleweeds tumble. Billy the corporation cleaner is happy to work alone, sweeping the empty spaces.

“Some don’t like working up here, I don’t mind my own company. Even if there was just one resident left, we’d still have to keep the place in order. You’d love my house, it’s an Army Barracks in the centre of town. Wife’s the caretaker, been in her family for three generations.”

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This is the second of three visits I have made from across the Pennines.

Mark – “Why are all these photographers coming here from Manchester?”

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“Been here some time, this is the second flat I’ve had, just missed out on one of the new ones though. Had this one nine years. Bloke threw himself off last week, he had a wife kids, parked up and just jumped.”

Take a look around.

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Precinct – Stalybridge

The dissipated filling, in an Aldi and Tesco sandwich, a flat roofed, concrete and brick sixties shopping development, a precinct.

Small towns typically comprise of several retail developments, of various vintages, chasing diminishing returns, in ever expanding rectangles.

Stalybridge is no exception, once a bustling mill town, it sought salvation in a hedonistic mini-break by the River Tame, party industry.

Stalyvegas.

The bright lights of the society of the spectacle, now extinguished, burnt brightly in Bar Liquid, Club Rififi, H2O and Amber Lounge.

Walking the streets today, a meagre spread of shoppers, hardened daytime drinkers and lost souls.

Bids were made for a Portas Pilot, Mary contrarily resisted.

The Northern Powerhouse hits the buffers.

The Buffet prevails.

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Launderette – Stalybridge

Tucked away in an arcade, far from Arcadian – not far from Baz’s Off Licence.

The launderette.

Yet another testament to the partial persistence of industrial technology.

No Longer in Use.

A happy hotch-potch of signs, surfaces and sixties design.

Informal formica, stripped bare strip lighting, wobbly laminate walls.

Watch and wait, whilst the World and your washing whirl.

 

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Ups ‘n’ Downs – Stockport

Ups ‘n’ Downs, it’s had its share of ups and downs.

Quite literally – the former Wellington Inn has an upside facing onto the busy A6 Wellington Road, and a downside opening onto Mersey Square.

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Its fortunes similarly something of a rollercoaster ride, from busy town centre pub, to edgy pseudo-club, populated by late night uniformed bus drivers, swaying on the metre square dance floor.

Latterly something of a disco party bus, going nowhere fast.

Known variously as Glitz, Bentley’s and the Bees Knees.

Finally, partial occupation by a forlorn pound shop – defying economic trends by closing.

An architectural curiosity and a blank faced, gap toothed greeting to the Town’s visitors, there is talk of conversion to flats under the council’s stewardship.

It seems like up to me.

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The Whetstone – Sheffield

Confusion

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Imagine

A single storey brick built street corner boozer, it’s not so hard to do.

It’s Sheffield let’s call it the Whetstone, how appropriate.

Bored?

How about the Moorfoot Tavern?

Sounds classy, that’ll do.

Well it did until it didn’t, somehow it migrates south, then west.

Paris Texas – how about Rome Mexico Yorkshire?

El Paso it is then –

 

Queensway Tunnel Ventilation – Liverpool

On your way to Pier Head or the Albert Dock, you are more than likely to be confronted by a piece of High Egyptian Art Deco utilitarian architecture.

Whose incongruity grows and grows – you’ll never get used to it.

But it’s still in use.

As a ventilation and control tower for the Queensway Tunnel that passes far beneath your very feet, beneath the Mersey.

“Each side of the Mersey has a triumvirate of ventilation stations with exhaust towers that could be up to 210 ft high; these and the tunnel approaches are the surviving street-level evidence of the tunnel beneath that links Birkenhead with Liverpool. Apart from the Art Deco ornamentation in the form of sculptures and decorative brick work, the form of each station is quite functional and determined by the size of the ventilation machinery such as the 50 ft fan casings. The heights of their towers are a response to the mechanical requirements of exchanging poisonous gas from the vehicular traffic in the tunnels with fresh air – they were not designed to be icons!”

Architect  Herbert James Rowse decorated by sculptor Edmund Charles Thompson

http://www.ribablogs.com/?p=4392

 

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All 98 #192 Bus Stops

There there are 98 stops on the 192  route, between Manchester and Hazel Grove.

– I know because I walked them all.

Sunday morning roads relatively free of traffic.

Some stops peopled some not.

Zigzagging the A6 to record a consistent sequence.

The bus stops here.

State House – Liverpool

Standing on the corner watching all the world go by.

Reflecting on and reflecting it’s older neighbours.

State House Dale Street.

“Built 1962 to the designs of Edmund Kirby & Sons. It has an assertive service tower, apparently clad in polished granite. Unusually, above the entrance is a concrete slab with a relief depicting what looks like a coat of arms above the building’s name. Kirby’s practice moved into the building for a time.”

Three well proportioned volumes – a central service tower, main block and outriding, lower level base.

An exciting conflation of grids, contrasting in scale and finish.

As ever – go see for y’self.

Higson’s Offices – Liverpool

127 Dale Street, corner of North Street, just by the Ship and Mitre, across from the Queensway Tunnel entrance?

Yes that’s the one, Liverpool’s most remarkable, least remarked upon building.

So clean, so modern, so new, a delightful grid of materials, glass, steel, polished marble, brick and patinated beaten metal.

Stand back and wonder, move in and sigh with delight.

As I went about my snappy business, I was approached by a local – Mark.

Surprised by my curiously, up close, slow scrutiny of the building, he went on to explain that he was familiar with the architect Derek Jones who had worked on the design for Ormrod and Partners in 1964.

Formerly home to Higson’s Brewery offices, now housing the Merseyside Museums administration and design teams, the exterior is largely intact.

So am I.

Go take a look.

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