Images of Sheffield
Previously posted in early May 2017. I apologise to Bob and Steve, whose comments have now disappeared. There was a technical hitch as WordPress somehow inserted itself into the blog. Since the photographs below were originally taken some of the city's tower blocks, although not the ones featured here, have begun to have their cladding removed post-Grenfell, and the Pheasant at Sheffield Lane Top has been flattened. Rare & Racy has closed and that cherry tree has, after all, been reduced to a stump along with all its neighbours on Donnington Road.
On 27 July a picket/human chain organised by the renters' union ACORN prevented the eviction of a family for protesting about the state of their hovel on Abbeydale Road.
The Bear Pit, Botanical Gardens. Someone buy him a cup of coffee, or maybe he’s sent a friend to do so at the café and is still waiting to be served.
Below: these two might be lovers, either now or quite soon. Or they may be friends or fellow students. She was reading to him aloud from the document she was holding on her lap, which sounded like an essay. Her accent was rich, attractive and East European, and he was doing a fine job of looking interested.
Endcliffe Park on a Sunday is a meeting place for families, teenagers, fitness freaks and footballers of both sexes, but the café is always a magnet for anyone looking for a bun or a chip butty. Even in winter some hardy souls like to sit outside, but now it’s Spring a spare seat is harder to find.
Park Hill Flats. A listed building even though its twin brothers and sisters at Hyde Park and Kelvin were demolished quite a few years ago. In a city which has, in common with everywhere else, a serious problem with homelessness and people sleeping out in the open, there seems no sense at all in keeping these flats boarded up.
There are a couple of blocks that have been turned into neat, cosy-looking homes, but while they are probably fine inside I doubt that the new occupiers enjoy living next to dereliction like this.
When the flats were built many people were glad to become tenants, but their popularity waned with every TV thrown off a balcony, and every shop on site that closed. The streets in the sky were an inadequate replacement for the real streets that the tenants had previously lived in.
This is a small portion of the long-disused Wardsend Cemetery, Livesey Street, Owlerton. In June 1862 the Rev. Livesey and his sexton Isaac Howard were run out of town by outraged locals after rumours were spread that they had been digging up bodies and selling them for medical research. There certainly were corpses stored in Isaac Howard's cellar but the explanation was that there was no space left to bury them so the corpses were being stored while older ones were removed to make way. This cut no ice with the citizens, who burned down the Howards' house to make sure he didn't come back.
Heeley Baths. The beautiful façade of the building has been obliterated by purple and blue signs telling people that this is the site of………….Heeley Baths.
All the News that’s unfit to print. Is that “Maddie: MI5 hid her body” and “New Foreign Aid Outrage” from stablemates the Daily Express and Daily Star? A made up story and a polemic against compassion on the front pages; just another day, then, for Richard Desmond’s abysmal tabloids. Desmond has already paid damages to the McCanns for insinuating that they murdered their own daughter but that won't stop his editors continuing to print ever-more idiotic Maddie theories whether this causes pain to the family (which I expect it does) or not.
Below: Pond Street bus station.
Hate and love find themselves next to each other. The leader of the English Defence League, Ian Crossland, is a resident of the city, which is nothing to be proud of. The EDL’s message is one of unapologetic hatred, which they have attempted to spread in the city centre on more than one occasion. Each time, they have been hugely outnumbered by anti-fascists, some of whom have been organised but most of which have simply been ordinary citizens using their own initiative to stand up for tolerance.
As she heads for the exit of the bus station, a passenger is confronted by lots of vertical and horizontal straight lines. She is getting another important phone call in before she steps outside.
Bedsit land. A single person under 35 is only allowed Housing Benefit to cover the going rate for a room in a shared house. It's likely that the flat advertised in this window is the kind that the DWP has in mind; that is, with a shared toilet, bathroom and kitchen. And dustbin too, of course.
Terraced houses in the rain on Penistone Road, with Hillsborough Stadium behind. The spider-web is part of the cantilever for the 1961 North Stand, which was futuristic in its day, unlike the crinkly blue Kop cover which arrived a generation later. Hillsborough is an old suburb but the name will always conjure up images of the disaster of April 1989. The Leppings Lane End, where the Liverpool fans were crushed to death against the perimeter fences as police officers fought to stop them escaping onto the pitch, still stands.
The old GPO sorting office was where I trained to be a postman in 1979. Most of the building has been knocked down since then, part of it has been renovated and some of it is in an intermediate stage. Meanwhile, the debris that comes with every fast meal and fizzy drink continues to accumulate.
Left, a homeless man in the city centre. Right, Jehovah’s Witnesses. There appears to be no communication here between the sleeping man and those whose mission is to save him. Have they tried and failed, or is he more concerned about the unfortunate state of his life on Earth than about his future in Heaven?
To many, the real Sheffield Cathedral. When United decided to turn their ground into an all-seater, instead of building a new stand at the Shoreham Street End they simply placed seats on the mound where the Kop stood and added a new roof. So, instead of having modern concourses, Blades fans buy their beer and chocolate outdoors and go for a fag on the balcony at half time.
It’s April in Sheffield so it’s World Snooker Championship time. Here’s what the TV viewers don’t see; the lorries, the exterior of the Crucible and its much more handsome neighbour, the Lyceum.
But why is there a Tardis around the corner?
A homeless man and dog sit outside a Building Society hoping that some of that cash that people are taking out will come their way. Maybe the shopper there has just spared him some change?
Here’s another dog, pointing the wrong way. He didn’t spot the Sheff City Slappaz approaching ready to make their mark on the building he is supposedly there to protect.
New architecture meets old. University building on the left, church on the right. Sheffield University dominates its corner of the city. Old buildings disappear and in the blink of an eye are replaced by others that look like this. I’ve edited most of it out so you can’t be offended by the sheer horror of what this one looks like, although it’s still by no means the worst. Compared to some of its neighbours it’s almost pretty.
Netherthorpe. Low-rise and high-rise dwellings get a good view of each other. Take your pick.
Students. Sheffield has thousands of them. Once upon a time, I was one myself. These have been caught in the rain, but they are young healthy adults so they’ll not catch colds, I’m sure.
It’s 12.30 Mass at St Matthew’s Church. The Priest is ready to begin, but he might be hoping that if he delays for a minute or two his flock might grow a little.
Give Way: to 21st century architecture.
Melbourne Avenue, in the heart of middle class Broomhall. On this quiet lane in January 1981 the Yorkshire Ripper was arrested for displaying stolen registration plates on his car. Inside with him was his intended next victim and all his murderous paraphernalia, which he threw over a fence while being arrested only for a police officer to discover it after returning the following day. Peter Sutcliffe had written to the local newspaper to tell them he was planning to kill a woman in Sheffield, but the letter was not taken seriously because it was not written by the police's Number 1 suspect, a hoaxer they had nicknamed Wearside Jack.
Sometimes it seems as if cats outnumber people in Sheffield. Each one claims to be in possession of a piece of territory but this one is actually just a pretender. This particular alley, along with its regular supply of tasty rodents and birds collecting nesting material, is disputed land.
Hanging out the washing. The John O'Gaunt shopping precinct on Blackstock Road. It's Monday afternoon and there are no shoppers to be seen. Just out of picture were some tough chaps who looked as if they would prefer not to be photographed, so I made a point of aiming the camera in a different direction.
This one isn't great either, mind. It's a picture of urban dereliction in Heeley, but just creeping into the photo on the Left there in order to rescue it is the Madina Masjid mosque. This is the one that the incompetent Jihadi was planning to blow up in order to start a holy war in the comedy film Four Lions. Every Friday it becomes very difficult to find a parking space or hail a taxi in the London Road area, at least till weekly prayers have finished.
Previously posted in early May 2017. I apologise to Bob and Steve, whose comments have now disappeared. There was a technical hitch as WordPress somehow inserted itself into the blog. Since the photographs below were originally taken some of the city's tower blocks, although not the ones featured here, have begun to have their cladding removed post-Grenfell, and the Pheasant at Sheffield Lane Top has been flattened. Rare & Racy has closed and that cherry tree has, after all, been reduced to a stump along with all its neighbours on Donnington Road.
On 27 July a picket/human chain organised by the renters' union ACORN prevented the eviction of a family for protesting about the state of their hovel on Abbeydale Road.
A few pictures taken in the last week of April 2017. The idea is to create a photographic essay contrasting some of the prettier parts of the city with others that are less picturesque and which visitors are not encouraged to see. I bet there are plenty of folk who live and have been brought up in the West End of the city who have never been to the East End, and vice versa.
It was a lucky week to choose. Let's begin with this friendly bear, shall we?
It was a lucky week to choose. Let's begin with this friendly bear, shall we?
The Bear Pit, Botanical Gardens. Someone buy him a cup of coffee, or maybe he’s sent a friend to do so at the café and is still waiting to be served.
Below: these two might be lovers, either now or quite soon. Or they may be friends or fellow students. She was reading to him aloud from the document she was holding on her lap, which sounded like an essay. Her accent was rich, attractive and East European, and he was doing a fine job of looking interested.
Endcliffe Park on a Sunday is a meeting place for families, teenagers, fitness freaks and footballers of both sexes, but the café is always a magnet for anyone looking for a bun or a chip butty. Even in winter some hardy souls like to sit outside, but now it’s Spring a spare seat is harder to find.
Park Hill Flats. A listed building even though its twin brothers and sisters at Hyde Park and Kelvin were demolished quite a few years ago. In a city which has, in common with everywhere else, a serious problem with homelessness and people sleeping out in the open, there seems no sense at all in keeping these flats boarded up.
There are a couple of blocks that have been turned into neat, cosy-looking homes, but while they are probably fine inside I doubt that the new occupiers enjoy living next to dereliction like this.
When the flats were built many people were glad to become tenants, but their popularity waned with every TV thrown off a balcony, and every shop on site that closed. The streets in the sky were an inadequate replacement for the real streets that the tenants had previously lived in.
This is a small portion of the long-disused Wardsend Cemetery, Livesey Street, Owlerton. In June 1862 the Rev. Livesey and his sexton Isaac Howard were run out of town by outraged locals after rumours were spread that they had been digging up bodies and selling them for medical research. There certainly were corpses stored in Isaac Howard's cellar but the explanation was that there was no space left to bury them so the corpses were being stored while older ones were removed to make way. This cut no ice with the citizens, who burned down the Howards' house to make sure he didn't come back.
Heeley Baths. The beautiful façade of the building has been obliterated by purple and blue signs telling people that this is the site of………….Heeley Baths.
All the News that’s unfit to print. Is that “Maddie: MI5 hid her body” and “New Foreign Aid Outrage” from stablemates the Daily Express and Daily Star? A made up story and a polemic against compassion on the front pages; just another day, then, for Richard Desmond’s abysmal tabloids. Desmond has already paid damages to the McCanns for insinuating that they murdered their own daughter but that won't stop his editors continuing to print ever-more idiotic Maddie theories whether this causes pain to the family (which I expect it does) or not.
Below: Pond Street bus station.
Hate and love find themselves next to each other. The leader of the English Defence League, Ian Crossland, is a resident of the city, which is nothing to be proud of. The EDL’s message is one of unapologetic hatred, which they have attempted to spread in the city centre on more than one occasion. Each time, they have been hugely outnumbered by anti-fascists, some of whom have been organised but most of which have simply been ordinary citizens using their own initiative to stand up for tolerance.
As she heads for the exit of the bus station, a passenger is confronted by lots of vertical and horizontal straight lines. She is getting another important phone call in before she steps outside.
Bedsit land. A single person under 35 is only allowed Housing Benefit to cover the going rate for a room in a shared house. It's likely that the flat advertised in this window is the kind that the DWP has in mind; that is, with a shared toilet, bathroom and kitchen. And dustbin too, of course.
Terraced houses in the rain on Penistone Road, with Hillsborough Stadium behind. The spider-web is part of the cantilever for the 1961 North Stand, which was futuristic in its day, unlike the crinkly blue Kop cover which arrived a generation later. Hillsborough is an old suburb but the name will always conjure up images of the disaster of April 1989. The Leppings Lane End, where the Liverpool fans were crushed to death against the perimeter fences as police officers fought to stop them escaping onto the pitch, still stands.
The old GPO sorting office was where I trained to be a postman in 1979. Most of the building has been knocked down since then, part of it has been renovated and some of it is in an intermediate stage. Meanwhile, the debris that comes with every fast meal and fizzy drink continues to accumulate.
Left, a homeless man in the city centre. Right, Jehovah’s Witnesses. There appears to be no communication here between the sleeping man and those whose mission is to save him. Have they tried and failed, or is he more concerned about the unfortunate state of his life on Earth than about his future in Heaven?
To many, the real Sheffield Cathedral. When United decided to turn their ground into an all-seater, instead of building a new stand at the Shoreham Street End they simply placed seats on the mound where the Kop stood and added a new roof. So, instead of having modern concourses, Blades fans buy their beer and chocolate outdoors and go for a fag on the balcony at half time.
It’s April in Sheffield so it’s World Snooker Championship time. Here’s what the TV viewers don’t see; the lorries, the exterior of the Crucible and its much more handsome neighbour, the Lyceum.
But why is there a Tardis around the corner?
A homeless man and dog sit outside a Building Society hoping that some of that cash that people are taking out will come their way. Maybe the shopper there has just spared him some change?
Here’s another dog, pointing the wrong way. He didn’t spot the Sheff City Slappaz approaching ready to make their mark on the building he is supposedly there to protect.
New architecture meets old. University building on the left, church on the right. Sheffield University dominates its corner of the city. Old buildings disappear and in the blink of an eye are replaced by others that look like this. I’ve edited most of it out so you can’t be offended by the sheer horror of what this one looks like, although it’s still by no means the worst. Compared to some of its neighbours it’s almost pretty.
Netherthorpe. Low-rise and high-rise dwellings get a good view of each other. Take your pick.
Students. Sheffield has thousands of them. Once upon a time, I was one myself. These have been caught in the rain, but they are young healthy adults so they’ll not catch colds, I’m sure.
It’s 12.30 Mass at St Matthew’s Church. The Priest is ready to begin, but he might be hoping that if he delays for a minute or two his flock might grow a little.
Give Way: to 21st century architecture.
Melbourne Avenue, in the heart of middle class Broomhall. On this quiet lane in January 1981 the Yorkshire Ripper was arrested for displaying stolen registration plates on his car. Inside with him was his intended next victim and all his murderous paraphernalia, which he threw over a fence while being arrested only for a police officer to discover it after returning the following day. Peter Sutcliffe had written to the local newspaper to tell them he was planning to kill a woman in Sheffield, but the letter was not taken seriously because it was not written by the police's Number 1 suspect, a hoaxer they had nicknamed Wearside Jack.
Children's toys on the balcony of a maisonette in Gleadless Valley. This type of housing is ubiquitous in Sheffield. The units are like 2 storey houses but built on top of each other so there are a lot of stairs to climb before a tenant reaches her/his front door. A garden for children to play in wouldn't half be a boon.
The Ball Inn used to be a thriving pub in Arbourthorne with its own football ground, which hosted United's junior team. It is in what looks to be a terminal state of disrepair today.
Sometimes it seems as if cats outnumber people in Sheffield. Each one claims to be in possession of a piece of territory but this one is actually just a pretender. This particular alley, along with its regular supply of tasty rodents and birds collecting nesting material, is disputed land.
Hanging out the washing. The John O'Gaunt shopping precinct on Blackstock Road. It's Monday afternoon and there are no shoppers to be seen. Just out of picture were some tough chaps who looked as if they would prefer not to be photographed, so I made a point of aiming the camera in a different direction.
Sub-standard accommodation in S7. This is one of the city's most fashionable postcodes but you wouldn't think so if you lived in this ground floor dwelling. I have recently heard it argued that there is no poverty in Sheffield; I beg to differ.
The view down a gennel to the back yard of privately-rented flats on Abbeydale Road. This is the kind of housing our children can realistically look forward to occupying.
Or, if they are lucky, patient and not too fussy, they might get one of these instead...
Paternoster Row. Sheffield Hallam University Students' Union building. This weird-looking albeit award-winning structure hosted the National Museum of Popular Museum, built and opened at a cost of £15 million in March 1999. 15 months later, having attracted a meagre fraction of the anticipated number of visitors, the museum closed. There was nothing to be gained by throwing further good money after bad.
See also: the Earth Centre, Conisbrough. It seems that people from the South of England will happily travel to the USA or India for a holiday at the drop of a hat, but visit an attraction in a Northern city? No, thank you.
The owners of the building on the left must have forgotten not to pay £6 billion in tax and then to wine and dine the HMRC's chief investigator. That's the way to run a successful business. Now there is a handy shop doorway for a busker to stand in, when he takes his hands out of those warm pockets and gets round to taking his guitar out of its case.
Death Row, officially known as Devonshire Street. These buildings might be old but they look in pretty decent condition to me, and they include the famous Rare & Racy book and music store with an original Phlegm artwork between the first floor windows. City planners have condemned the entire row and no doubt plan to replace them with similar glass and metal horrors like those on the other sides of the Green. I expect that, in the not-too-distant future, these will themselves be demolished. Quite possibly, at that stage, pastiches of the original well-loved shops will spring up in their place.
Here's one that got away. Henderson's Relish is made elsewhere these days but no-one would dare suggest pulling this shop down in spite of its becoming dwarfed by its brash neighbours. Judging by the state of the outbuildings it's a good job Hendo's isn't actually produced here any more because God knows what its ingredients would include. No self-respecting rodent would want to live in one of them, for sure.
Bethel Walk. Presumably the name has biblical significance. It's a good job the yellow lines are there, otherwise someone might just park a bus in the lane and then no-one would be able to walk by, would they? The sheer grey wall of John Lewis helps make this one of the least attractive views in the city.
This one isn't great either, mind. It's a picture of urban dereliction in Heeley, but just creeping into the photo on the Left there in order to rescue it is the Madina Masjid mosque. This is the one that the incompetent Jihadi was planning to blow up in order to start a holy war in the comedy film Four Lions. Every Friday it becomes very difficult to find a parking space or hail a taxi in the London Road area, at least till weekly prayers have finished.
A view of the city on a chilly evening, taken from the Cholera Monument on Norfolk Road. In 1832, 402 people died in an epidemic caused by drinking and washing in polluted water. They were buried on the hillside between Clay Wood and Park Hill.
Halifax Road. That's Fox Hill on the left, but where's Chaucer, when it's at home? 100 yards along the turning on the right is a sign that reads "Welcome to Parson Cross." Anyone would think that the City Council, for some reason, is trying to pretend that Parson Cross doesn't exist, as if erasing its name from the road signs will make the entire estate disappear.
Harry Bradley, as painted by local artist Rocket, keeps an eye on the city from rear wall of the Howard Arms. The railway station sits in the background in the gap between Harry and one of Sheffield Hallam University's buildings, with Park Hall flats above.
I like trees as much as anyone, especially at cherry blossom time. Unfortunately, the words "Sheffield" and "trees" now bring to mind images of private contractors turning up with chain saws in Rustlings Road at 4 am and the City Council using anti-Trade Union legislation to arrest pensioners for protesting about it. There are more pressing problems in the city than losing some trees, for sure, and some of the ones that have been removed may well have been damaging roads and pavements, but the arrogance with which the Council has behaved has definitely helped the protesters' cause.
This one, as far as I know, is not under any threat at present.
Burton's and the Adelphi, Attercliffe Road. Both now closed and symbolic of the area's decline. Just down the road is a mound of rubble that used to be the Don Valley Stadium. Attercliffe is now home to sex shops, a swingers' club and the City Sauna, currently the UK's most famous brothel following two contrived shooting-fish-in-a-barrel Channel 4 "documentaries". The programme makers took a sad situation - a bargain basement Fourth Division knocking shop - and made figures of fun out of whores and punters alike for the amusement of its boneheaded viewers.
The sign here advertises window tinting, but in order to tint a window, the first thing you need is a window to tint, and there isn't one in this shop front. In fact, by the look of it's been quite a while since defenestration took place.
Let Love Speak For Itself. That's a very cheerful, calming message for drivers trying to navigate through the city's notorious one-way system and trying to avoid having to go to Worksop or Rotherham in order to get to Pitsmoor or Ecclesfield.
Page Hall, where David Blunkett said, in 2013, "We have got to change the behaviour and the culture of the incoming community, the Roma community, because there's going to be an explosion otherwise. We all know that."
There has not been any explosion, and these two lads from the Asian community certainly don't look as if they are too frightened to venture out to the shops. They really wanted their photos taken, though. "We'll be on Google!" they said, and I hope they're right.
Halifax Road. That's Fox Hill on the left, but where's Chaucer, when it's at home? 100 yards along the turning on the right is a sign that reads "Welcome to Parson Cross." Anyone would think that the City Council, for some reason, is trying to pretend that Parson Cross doesn't exist, as if erasing its name from the road signs will make the entire estate disappear.
Harry Bradley, as painted by local artist Rocket, keeps an eye on the city from rear wall of the Howard Arms. The railway station sits in the background in the gap between Harry and one of Sheffield Hallam University's buildings, with Park Hall flats above.
I like trees as much as anyone, especially at cherry blossom time. Unfortunately, the words "Sheffield" and "trees" now bring to mind images of private contractors turning up with chain saws in Rustlings Road at 4 am and the City Council using anti-Trade Union legislation to arrest pensioners for protesting about it. There are more pressing problems in the city than losing some trees, for sure, and some of the ones that have been removed may well have been damaging roads and pavements, but the arrogance with which the Council has behaved has definitely helped the protesters' cause.
This one, as far as I know, is not under any threat at present.
Burton's and the Adelphi, Attercliffe Road. Both now closed and symbolic of the area's decline. Just down the road is a mound of rubble that used to be the Don Valley Stadium. Attercliffe is now home to sex shops, a swingers' club and the City Sauna, currently the UK's most famous brothel following two contrived shooting-fish-in-a-barrel Channel 4 "documentaries". The programme makers took a sad situation - a bargain basement Fourth Division knocking shop - and made figures of fun out of whores and punters alike for the amusement of its boneheaded viewers.
The sign here advertises window tinting, but in order to tint a window, the first thing you need is a window to tint, and there isn't one in this shop front. In fact, by the look of it's been quite a while since defenestration took place.
Page Hall, where David Blunkett said, in 2013, "We have got to change the behaviour and the culture of the incoming community, the Roma community, because there's going to be an explosion otherwise. We all know that."
There has not been any explosion, and these two lads from the Asian community certainly don't look as if they are too frightened to venture out to the shops. They really wanted their photos taken, though. "We'll be on Google!" they said, and I hope they're right.
Another once-popular pub bites the dust. The Pheasant used to be rammed with customers when Frank White and his band performed there. I expect every city has a Frank White; a guitarist and singer very famous in his own backyard but unknown elsewhere, because that's the way he liked it.
Old-fashioned terraced housing in Burngreave. One side of this road survived the fashion for erecting high rise blocks and knocking down traditional streets, even while most of the neighbours disappeared, along with their homes, long ago. Nature has reclaimed both the vacant side and the top of the road.
Spital Hill, with the Wicker and tall City towers in the background. The area has a reputation for violence among some of its young men but it was peaceful enough on this Saturday afternoon, at least.
Multi-lingual recycling bins, Spital Street flats.
The Colour Run makes its way down City Road. Once a year students pay £17 a head for the privilege of taking on a 5 km obstacle course while being splattered with paint. This must be a recent phenomenon because I'm sure it didn't happen when I studied at SU. Not that I would have taken part anyway; in fact I would gladly have paid the 1970s equivalent of £17 to avoid doing so.
One objection to multiculturalism is that alien religions are taking over from Britain's traditional Christianity. I must admit this is no problem for me because I am an atheist and I have no problem with sharing space with people from different cultures, but it does get some people worked up, apparently.
Here, in Firth Park, it looks as if someone is making a statement on his/her Vauxhall Astra.
Football is still the People's Game regardless of all the multi-millionaires, sell-outs and cheats that the world's media constantly obsess about. Here we are inside Bramall Lane stadium for the last day of the season, and it's a good way to finish off this week's project. After a fine season, United are taking on neighbours Chesterfield, and are too giddy to hit their best form against worthy opponents.
But all's well that end's well. A slightly jammy 3-2 win, after Chesterfield had a player sent off, rounded off a trophy-winning campaign and gave the fans a contended feeling with which to enjoy the summer, and that doesn't happen very often.
Old-fashioned terraced housing in Burngreave. One side of this road survived the fashion for erecting high rise blocks and knocking down traditional streets, even while most of the neighbours disappeared, along with their homes, long ago. Nature has reclaimed both the vacant side and the top of the road.
Spital Hill, with the Wicker and tall City towers in the background. The area has a reputation for violence among some of its young men but it was peaceful enough on this Saturday afternoon, at least.
Multi-lingual recycling bins, Spital Street flats.
The Colour Run makes its way down City Road. Once a year students pay £17 a head for the privilege of taking on a 5 km obstacle course while being splattered with paint. This must be a recent phenomenon because I'm sure it didn't happen when I studied at SU. Not that I would have taken part anyway; in fact I would gladly have paid the 1970s equivalent of £17 to avoid doing so.
One objection to multiculturalism is that alien religions are taking over from Britain's traditional Christianity. I must admit this is no problem for me because I am an atheist and I have no problem with sharing space with people from different cultures, but it does get some people worked up, apparently.
Here, in Firth Park, it looks as if someone is making a statement on his/her Vauxhall Astra.
Football is still the People's Game regardless of all the multi-millionaires, sell-outs and cheats that the world's media constantly obsess about. Here we are inside Bramall Lane stadium for the last day of the season, and it's a good way to finish off this week's project. After a fine season, United are taking on neighbours Chesterfield, and are too giddy to hit their best form against worthy opponents.
But all's well that end's well. A slightly jammy 3-2 win, after Chesterfield had a player sent off, rounded off a trophy-winning campaign and gave the fans a contended feeling with which to enjoy the summer, and that doesn't happen very often.
I enjoyed those pictures immensely. Although I may have taken a few similar ones myself there were plenty to open the eyes and provoke thoughts and memories of the city. I never knew the bear at the Botanical Gardens but remember the cafe well. And the ones in Rivelin and Endcliffe parks.
ReplyDeleteJust a matter of days after moving to Sheffield in 2012 I bought one of those proper smart smartphones. I made the purchase in town but was asked to pick it up at Meadowhall which had a bigger stock. A metaphor perhaps? When given a choice of models one determining factor was the quality of in-built cameras. I wouldn’t be needing a camera so opted for the standard model.
How wrong I was. After taking pictures on Stanage Edge and around the canal basin I was hooked. Urban scenes, rural scenes and then – the final trap – minor football grounds. I’ve not stopped since.
Picturing Sheffield was fascinating. Long walks in leafy S10 and S11; industrial and post-industrial shots of Parkwood Springs; ventures to the world of Kelham Island which would have been beyond the ken of a 1970s student. Park Hill flats of course; Don Valley stadium before, during and after its demise; a snowy tram ride to Crystal Peaks and far beyond. Town centre buildings on Christmas Eve; Sheffield’s countryside on Christmas Day; Bramall Lane on Boxing Day. The then-derelict track at Woodbourn Road; rugby league at Owlerton; football pitches in the clouds at Sky Edge and Castle Dyke.
All kept as a two-year photographic diary. I look forward to further photojournalism from Non-Pig News. I may even swap my shots of Avonmouth and Devonport sometime.