Lark Lane

I love this grungy, distressed old painted sign for a garage in Lark Lane (what a beautiful alliterative street name that is). It's in an area of Dingle (near the Welsh Streets) that may well be demolished before long. I thought I'd better record it whilst I can. The faded colours came up much better than expected - I'm going to have this printed BIG,  it'll look amazing. Maybe I should do a project on old street advertising - it's a great aspect of social documentary.

A REMINDER OF SOPHIATOWN IN TOXTETH

Learning often comes unexpectedly. Recently I was wandering through the ‘Welsh Streets’ in Liverpool’s Toxteth district. Because of my interest in social documentary and heritage I have spent many hours with my camera walking around the silent streets of ‘tinned up’ houses in Liverpool 8. This is one of several areas in the city where a whole community has been cleared of residents, their properties having been compulsory purchased in preparation for demolition – all part of the council’s grand regeneration plan.

Madryn Street as a poetry and songbook!

One of the ‘Welsh Streets’ is Madryn Street where Ringo Starr was born. (There is still some debate about whether no.9 should be preserved as a national treasure!) I noticed that most of the small terraced houses along Ringo’s side of Madryn Street have had sheets of song lyrics / poetry pasted onto their sealed up doors and windows. Most of the lyrics are entirely appropriate (Ghost Town, Anthem for Doomed Houses, We Shall Not Be Moved etc.) resulting in the whole street becoming a cultural installation. I photographed several of them before the sun, wind and rain hides their messages.

 One of the poems was called ‘The Day They Came for Our House’. The prose included “Armed with bulldozers / they came to do a job / nothing more / than hired killers”. The poem was credited to Dan Mattera – that’s all I knew from the photocopied sheet of lyrics - so I educated myself later in the day. It  was written about the clearance and obliteration of Sophiatown in the 50s and early 60s in South Africa. Sophiatown was a vibrant, urban, multi-cultural community – one of the oldest black suburbs of Johannesburg. Under apartheid, it was cleared, demolished and rebuilt as a white suburb (renamed as Triomf). The township had been famed for its culture of writing, art and music – notably jazz and blues. Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu were both Sophiatown residents. 

Don Mattera ('Dan' is a misprint) was an activist in the struggle against apartheid but he subsequently became a poet, writer and journalist. ‘The Day They Came for Our House’ was published in Mattera’s book ‘Azanian Love Song’ in 1983. To my shame I didn’t know the history of Sophiatown and hadn’t read any of Mattera’s books or poetry until I researched these things when I returned home. I’m glad I did – the shameful story of racial clearances in South Africa is something that we should all know about. Sometimes learning comes from unexpected sources – in this case my walk down Ringo’s old street resulted in my learning about 50yr old events from 6000 miles away!

Wilfred Owen's 1917 poem - 'Anthem For Doomed Youth' reworked for condemned housing

Disconnected

In both Edge Hill and Toxteth, where entire streets have been evacuated, essential services have to be disconnected. All houses that are awaiting demolition have 'E/Off' and 'Gas off' painted on the front.

A glance at the telegraph poles in the Welsh Streets shows that the lines of communication have all been cut.

The Welsh Streets - Voelas

I love the short Voelas Street. Tree-lined with large grassed area at the South Street end that the children must have used for playing when the houses were occupied. That red end-terrace looks so appealing in the sunshine (I know that my romantic view doesn't reflect the conditions in these properties). I was told by a local that when the houses are demolished (possibly this month) the trees will be kept in all these streets. We'll see what happens. Whilst looking for shots in the morning sun, these two community policemen came past and were happy to be photographed before stopping for a short chat.

Voelas Street from the other end (High Park Street)

For the last time, Voelas Street comes alive. It's a street party (for the Royal Wedding on 29th April). There was a barbecue and a disco. A community policeman asked me if I had permission to take photographs (he knew that I was a stranger in this area). I explained that party organiser Adam (who owns the corner newsagents / general store) had invited me to attend and that I was keen to record the street with people - something that won't be seen again.

Wynnstay Street

The tree-lined Wynnstay Street looks inviting in the afternoon sun but look closely. There are no people and no cars. The houses are empty - windows blocked up and doors sealed with steel security panels. This is one of Toxteth's 'Welsh Streets' - quietly awaiting demolition. Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral can be seen through the trees, beyond the end of the street.

Back Home

Mark spent 40 years living in Wynnstay Street. Compulsary purchase of his house, prior to demolition (Toxteth regeneration) means he has had to leave. I met him exercising his dog Monster and asked if he would return to his old house for this photo. Not all former residents are happy with the council plans for demolishing the Welsh Streets. Mark, now staying with relatives, would like to have remained where he was. I hope that he soon finds suitable accommodation of his own.

The Welsh Streets

A group of Toxteth streets near Princes Park known as The Welsh Streets are shortly to be demolished. The Victorian terraced housing was originally built in the 1880s for the dockers (many of them Welsh) and the streets were given Welsh names. Wandering around these streets (April 2011) was a very strange experience - there were no people and no cars - it felt like an abandoned film set. The houses are now waiting for the demolition team. Like Edge Hill, this area is being 'regenerated'. This view of Voelas Street looks friendly and inviting but, in reality, it is deserted and silent - many of the houses in a poor state of repair. The loss of these terraces will remove much of the character of the area and, perhaps more importantly a part of Liverpool's social history will be lost forever. Ringo Starr was born in The Welsh Streets and his house (in Madryn St) will be bulldozed too. Should it be saved? A future blog post will discuss this further.