Now if there is anything I have learnt from the last six and bit years of doing the blog is that Piccadilly Gardens is an easy target.
Put up a picture of what it once looked like or as today what it has become and you can be guaranteed a shed load of comments.
Most like me will remember the old sunken garden with affection. In my case I came to the place quite late, having only washed up in the city in 1969.
But on warm autumnal days, and better still in high summer it was a magic.
There were always a few people sitting on the benches, which as it got round to midday became a host, from office workers on their break, to shoppers talking a rest from parading up down Market Street and Oldham Street, and of course in the holidays a gaggle of kids.
For me it was usually just before noon on the day when the Evening News ran its property page with flats and bedsits advertised to rent.
The gardens were just a short walk from the College of Commerce and were surrounded by telephone boxes.
So after buying the first edition of the papers, scouring the suitable “lets” it was into a telephone box only to be met with and engaged signal or that at just twenty minutes past twelve the flat had been taken.
Years later I used the Gardens only as a cut through and like many saw they deteriorate and like many I wasn’t convinced at the makeover.
The brutalist concrete wall was and is brutal, the lawn still seems to get waterlogged and there is little protection from the wind.
True is an open space which fits with the economies of the day when the Corporation is cash stripped and a decision to provide a care home takes precedence over employing a team of gardeners.
Nor should we forget that for a chunk of the early 20th century the area remained an open wasteland with people being unable to agree on its future after the demolition of the hospital.
There were plans for an art gallery and other “things” before we got the sunken garden.
At which point I could have just fallen back on an old picture postcard of what it was, but instead have settled for these three taken by Andy Robertson o Saturday, and as the instructions say I shall “stand well back”, and wait for the response.
Location; Manchester
Pictures; Piccadilly Gardens, 2018 from the collection of Andy Robertson
Most like me will remember the old sunken garden with affection. In my case I came to the place quite late, having only washed up in the city in 1969.
But on warm autumnal days, and better still in high summer it was a magic.
There were always a few people sitting on the benches, which as it got round to midday became a host, from office workers on their break, to shoppers talking a rest from parading up down Market Street and Oldham Street, and of course in the holidays a gaggle of kids.
The gardens were just a short walk from the College of Commerce and were surrounded by telephone boxes.
So after buying the first edition of the papers, scouring the suitable “lets” it was into a telephone box only to be met with and engaged signal or that at just twenty minutes past twelve the flat had been taken.
Years later I used the Gardens only as a cut through and like many saw they deteriorate and like many I wasn’t convinced at the makeover.
The brutalist concrete wall was and is brutal, the lawn still seems to get waterlogged and there is little protection from the wind.
Nor should we forget that for a chunk of the early 20th century the area remained an open wasteland with people being unable to agree on its future after the demolition of the hospital.
There were plans for an art gallery and other “things” before we got the sunken garden.
At which point I could have just fallen back on an old picture postcard of what it was, but instead have settled for these three taken by Andy Robertson o Saturday, and as the instructions say I shall “stand well back”, and wait for the response.
Location; Manchester
Pictures; Piccadilly Gardens, 2018 from the collection of Andy Robertson
I do miss the painted footprints which led from Queen Victoria's statue down to the underground lavatories. Quite funny at the time in the late 70's.
ReplyDeleteMe too Peter, me too, I have a memory that they go back to the earlier 70s ...... perhaps repainted when officaldum deems them unasmusing
ReplyDelete