February, 2017 Archives

All Hallows Church and the Harthill Estate c1935

In my time in Liverpool, I have seen numerous attacks on the city’s fine architectural heritage. A few (Lyceum Club and Albert Dock are two of the most prominent) have failed but most have been pushed through to the benefit of developers, who just move on after picking up their profits. I am not one who is against development per se. After all, Liverpool once supported almost double the population and has had to readjust as economic decline has changed its fortunes.

However, the City Council has now turned its attentions to selling off a part of our heritage that any right thinking citizen would regard as sacrosanct – its parks and green spaces. After pushing through its appalling decision to sell-off Sefton Park Meadows to its buddies, Redrow, it is following up that act of betrayal by carving up Calderstones Park for another grossly invasive housing development.

How does it get away with it? Thousands (this is not an alternative fact) of local residents have signed petitions against the development yet the Council plough on, oblivious to the destruction of the integrity of the park. They claim it is a brownfield – how convenient after their Militant predecessors tore down the much-loved Orchid Houses to leave a concrete standing that became the park’s depot.

This is a park that has belonged to the people of Liverpool for over a century. It is our space – not a plot of commercial land to be sold to the highest bidder (or not, in the case of Redrow, who have paid for preferred bidder status – a cosy relationship for a company sharing the same floor of the Cunard Building as the Mayor’s Office). The photograph shows the area in about 1935. I could digress and write about Mather Avenue with no traffic, or the 16 tennis courts, but my focus is on the land beyond All Hallows Church, to the right of what was Quarry Bank Grammar School (now Calderstones School). The road just beyond the church is Harthill Road and most of the land in photograph is earmarked for 51 executive properties.

There are so many arguments that make this development inappropriate but I have chosen the words of Professor Quentin Hughes. In 1999, I published his seminal book Liverpool: City of Architecture, which was a celebration of the city’s very fine architectural heritage. He wrote:

“Liverpool is famous for its parks. Few cities in the western world can compare with the green swathes of South Liverpool where parks have been laid out almost touching each other …. South Liverpool must be one of the loveliest places in any European city. Everywhere there are mature trees and open spaces on a scale unseen elsewhere, but slowly suburban growth is eating at their edges, destroying irreplaceable settings.”

I could add more but I know others have covered the key issues. Professor Hughes’s few words succinctly express what is at stake. For a measly sum of money, we are in danger of throwing away what makes Liverpool so special and treasured.

Unfortunately, planning permission has just been given to Redrow to go ahead with their scheme to destroy the integrity of the area. Sadly, they have the enthusiastic backing of a Labour council who should know better than to get into bed with developers.

Looking through my photographic collection, I am always reminded of what Liverpool has lost architecturally. Wartime bombing saw off a fair number of good (and occasionally great) buildings,but by far the greatest destruction was caused in the post-War decades, particularly the 1960s and 70s.

Waterloo Grain Warehouses can claim to be victims of both the Blitz and the 1960s readiness to dismantle the city’s heritage. Opened in 1867 to the design of George Fosberry Lyster, the City Engineer, there were originally three warehouses facing East Waterloo Dock. (The photograph is taken from Princes Half Tide Dock with its entrance into East Waterloo Dock). James Picton, architect and writer whom I so often quote, regarded the warehouses as ‘a great improvement on the massive ugliness of the Albert Dock’. Certainly there are similarities in construction, with the hauling machinery in this case being housed in the turrets that arise above the roof level.

The far block was destroyed by enemy bombing. The block on the left survived until 1969, when the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board demolished it at roughly the same time as Duke’s Warehouse, which was adjacent to Albert Dock. Two unnecessary acts that have greatly diminished our dockland heritage. Barratt Homes bought the remaining Waterloo Grain Warehouse and converted it to flats. The site of the other warehouses are now typical suburban houses – totally out of keeping with their once grand setting.

First of all, my apologies for the gap in posts. For years, the site has been with a server that was delivering an expensive and slow site. Moving to a new server has been a bit of a nightmare but will hopefully offer a much better service.

I have a large number of late nineteenth century images of Pier Head and the ferries. Perhaps this is to be expected. Pier Head was the only part of the river that was open to the public until the 1980s and the re-opening of the Albert Dock. As a result, it was not only packed with passengers for the ferries but was also a popular place to meet and promenade,

The photograph is unremarkable, although it has some great animation. I was particularly taken by the young man with a top hat. It must be a hot summer’s day judging by the open parasols, especially on the overcrowded ferry deck. It is a morning shot looking at the shadows and I am guessing that it might be a Sunday’s excursion to New Brighton.