Issue 106 / Dec 2019/Jan 2020

John Johnson / @John.johno
Giant Steps?
When the Giants found their way their way back to Liverpool in 2018, it was
a moment of celebration, but one to reflect on.
Liverpool changed in 2008. The year as European Capital of Culture
established the city on the world stage as a destination. A place to be. The
figures say that growth has increased by £1.6 billion year-on-year since the
end of 2008. Perceptions outside the city have certainly changed. Liverpool is a
modern, forward-facing city, not only proud of its contribution to the arts, culture
and sport, but dependent, more than ever before, on that contribution for its
future. Maybe the full legacy will only be known in years to come, when we have
the true bigger picture.
The city mandarins talk of growth, of investment. From street level,
however, that growth looks to be more about the Blade Runner claustrophobia
of Wolstenholme Square, or the sheer whatthefuckery of the Lime Street
development, a prestigious entry point to the city with the grand opulence of
William Brown Street to one side and a grim metal box showcasing a new
branch of Lidl to the other. Maybe this is the legacy for some. Culture comes
from people, though, and that means the grassroots. Art needs space. It needs
support and nourishment. So, while it’s no doubt an achievement for the city
council, in the face of central government cuts, to protect the Biennial, or Sound
City, Africa Oyé and LightNight, there is still a glaring need for the council to
better support grassroots culture. That should be the true legacy.
Paul Fitzgerald
Haring at Tate
Keith Haring’s presence in Liverpool was palpable all summer and into the
winter of 2019. Emblazoned on buses and T-shirts and collectables, with DJs in
every other venue paying homage.
Tate Liverpool housing the first major UK exhibition of Haring’s work felt
like the North Star in a widening sky of constellations that are reorientating the
city’s pull as a cultural destination. Vibrant, urgent and playful, Haring’s output
has a humanity to it that resonated with the city. What’s more joy-inducing than
Shazam-ing the shit out of the tracks played in a curtained room where his Day
Glo works sit under UV light? What’s more sobering than understanding that his
work was made in the face of a wilfully ignorant Reagan administration during
the AIDS crisis? The exhibition was attractive and important.
It can be all too easy for the face of the city to rely on certain tropes while
its underbelly swells with a cutting edge not necessarily seen by those outside
of Liverpool. Haring didn’t put Liverpool on the map, but his work has helped to
broaden our horizons, and others’ perception of the city as a cultural destination.
Bethany Garrett
Streets Ahead
My first visit to 24 Kitchen Street saw dust tumbling
from the ceiling, such was the size of the sound system
drafted in to celebrate Less Effect hosting Objekt. Since
then, the music policy of the club has followed a similar
track. Although now it’s likely small-scale debris drifting
down from the ceiling can be attributed to the army of drills
burrowing in the foundations of luxury apartments next
door.
The rise of the Baltic Triangle was one of the most
positive in the slew of recent city centre developments. The
work of Baltic CIC set the foundations for a new chapter
in Liverpool’s electronic music scene, giving rise to 24
Kitchen Street, Constellations, Camp and Furnace, Haus,
Baltic Weekender and microclimate tastemakers Melodic
Distraction Radio. A pared back answer to Detroit and
Berlin’s repurposing of defunct industrial spaces, these
homes to artistic endeavour and escapism are now ever
more surrounded by simply homes, short term rentals and
aspirational studio flats with necessary balcony to take in
your achievements. Such apartments stand ever taller over
Kitchen Street; Constellations is to be swept aside; the
remaining venues in the district do their best to rattle the
double glazing of local professionals.
For a moment Liverpool had a thriving creative district
and night time scene that was its own, free from large scale
residential intrusion. Crane your neck on Jamaica Street now
and it’ll be hard to see how a sound system large enough to
rattle a building to its core will ever be able to feature again.
Elliot Ryder
Robin Clewley / robinclewley.co.uk
If you’d like a soundtrack to these cultural moments, head
to bidolito.co.uk to listen to our Decade Dansette — a selection of
tracks that stood out to us as memorable markers along the way.
FEATURE
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