I was not supposed to be in Birmingham. I set off to Bournemouth in the morning and sat in standstill traffic on the A34 in Oxfordshire, and then, after an hour, turned around and headed the opposite way. I was unsure where I was headed and it felt good to be adventuring.
I drove past North Oxford, where I grew up, past the turnoff to Islip and approached the big roundabout where I was warned by the traffic news, that the M40 to London was also closed.
I turned North, and there was a sign to Birmingham.
I couldn’t remember if I’d ever been to Birmingham, beyond a mad rush to deliver some documents to my Dad at Birmingham University in the early noughies. He had been brought in from University of Oxford to whip sport science students into shape with his scientific prowess. He was not a popular tutor when his entire first year of undergraduate students failed his compulsory Biomechanics Module.
I wondered out of the Old Town Hall Car Park, careful to take photos of the area letter and floor I had parked on. I have learned, from a series of unfortunate events, that this is necessary and it does not matter how certain I am that I will remember where I parked. I slung my camera, complete with wide angle lens, about my neck, twitching at leaving the rest of my lenses behind (because, obviously, there might be that one shot that makes lugging 25kg of lenses on my back for hours in the sun worth it…), and set off into the throng.
I didn’t know what I expected…….but not this.
I came face to face with the Grand Central - Bullring. What the actual……?
WOW!
Reflections and clean wobbly lines. Colours everywhere…. Only there weren’t any colours in the materials of the building, they were reflections of nearby buildings, cars, people, busses and blue trams.
The Bullring, a giant dollop of melted tin foil that should have been a monstrosity was actually a huge reflection of the city. A showcase of everything and everyone around it. I loved the lines, clear and bright, splitting and cutting through the sky.
I walked round the oversized sculpture trying to make sense of the structure and wondering how best to depict it in my work. The front can’t be accessed by foot, but then, while I was wondering why a police car was loitering in front of the carpark and if I could sneak up there when they left, I looked up and discovered my first photo.
And also, here is me (below)!!
Across the front of the Bullring was the artwork of Jon Jones from the TV series Peaky Blinders. I watched tourists taking photos in front of huge prints of Cillian Murphy, in all his glorious beauty. Who can blame them?
The presence of the Peaky Blinders there in the centre made me wonder what it was like, all those years ago, when Birmingham was a centre of manufacturing and trade, producing goods such as buttons, jewellery and cars, and of course chocolate. Lets not forget Cadburys.
I set off to walk around the town for two hours. I was there for five, and I will be going back next week, because there was so much to photograph, and the people were larger than life. Friendly and some real characters. I want more!
The buildings across the town, the canal network, the chimneys, all pointed to Birminghams history of being the heart, or perhaps the engine, of industrialisation. At the same time there were buildings, such as the Old Town Hall, the churches, the Museum and Art Gallery that were refined examples of classical architecture. They are juxtaposed with new pieces of architecture, thoughtfully designed and slotted into the city as if they’d always been there. For instance, the muted colours of the library, complemented the burnished industrial colours of the old factories, the old Joe, and the sky above. It was breathtaking.
The noise, the hustle and bustle, the hugely multicultural people of the city made it even more enjoyable than the experience of the architecture. Buskers played Indian and Pakistani music, which people of all races danced to. A couple of police officers joked with a homeless man who seemed to be wearing a jacked markedly similar to theirs, while he deftly avoided all of their questions. The market was teaming with people haggling and buying fruit and vegetables. The smell of weed was often overpowering. The Creative Quarter and Digbeth were a delight, old victorian buildings teaming with birds, students filling the streets….. It is not surprising the city’s motto is ‘Forward’.
Later, when I finally accepted I needed to go home, I pulled out of the car park my phone died. I had no idea which way to go and after driving round aimlessly I stopped at a petrol station, bought a charger for my car which didn’t work because my car electrics are rubbish, and then started asking people which way to go to get to the M42. In under 1 minute I was following a very friendly taxi driver who took me as near as he could to the M42, and then leant out the window signalling me how many more turns to take in what direction, giving me thumbs up when I signalled back correctly. I left him flashing my lights and honking my horn. It was like being transported back to the pre smart phones/satnav 90s. All I needed was a battered copy of an A to Z wedged under the passenger seat.
I smiled all the way home.
Well, I’m going back to Birmingham, in two weeks. I didn’t see enough of the old factories, or the canals I didn’t get to The Jewellery Quarter, and I most defiantly did not get enough of the people of Birmingham.
Let me know if there are any nooks and crannies that I must see please. And, as always, I am happy to take a photo of your street. Please request your street here.
Gear for Blog Photos
Camera - Canon 5D Mk iv
Lens - Canon EF 16-35m f/2.8L USM
iPhone 15 Pro Max