History

Broadmead Baptist Church was founded in 1640 and was the earliest dissenting church in Bristol. Early members faced persecution and met in various locations around Bristol before securing four rooms at the end of Broadmead in 1671.

The chapel was one of the rare buildings in the area to survive the Blitz. In 1940, three Boy Scouts saved it by breaking into the building with an axe and putting out a fire on the staircase caused by an incendiary bomb.

It stood for another 27 years before being demolished to make way for the current building. The chapel leased the ground floor for retail (it’s currently a Tesco Express) and built this new church above.

It was designed by architect, Ronald H Sims, who conceived it as the ‘Baptist Cathedral of the West’. Building began in 1967 and it opened officially in 1969.

Architecture

Look up, above street level, and you will see a corduroy textured concrete facade topped with V-shaped canopies designed to evoke doves in flight.

The Church doesn’t have a grand entrance, nor is it particularly welcoming. But as the intercom beeps and you enter (you need to pre-book), it doesn’t take long for the anticipation to build as you climb the stairs. As Historic England so aptly wrote in its official list entry, “the journey from the street entrance to the church was conceptually one of ascending from darkness into light.”

The beautiful interior is a light-filled hall with balconies overlooking the baptistry.

The timber screen above the baptistry is known as the ‘Crowd of Witnesses’. It fans out like a wing (there’s a theme developing here).

A timber spire was removed shortly after opening as it posed a risk to shoppers below.

Listing

The building was granted Grade II listed status in 2024.

On listing Catherine Croft, Director of the 20th Century Society, commented: “Bristol’s Broadmead Baptist Church is one of the best examples of how it pays to look up: above the dreary façade of a mini-supermarket is a riot of sculptural, expressive concrete forms dancing against the skyline.”

If you’d like to see more modernist Bristol gems then this might be the book for you:

Modernist Bristol

Bristol’s modernist and brutalist buildings are rarely celebrated. Some are listed, many are threatened, a few are already gone. This book is a record and an appreciation of the buildings and the era that made them possible.

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Everard’s Print Works sits on Broad Street, perhaps the finest (and most varied) street for architecture in Bristol.

Built in 1900–01, the architect was Henry Williams and the façade tiles were designed by W.J. Neatby. It is now Grade II* listed.

It has the look of an Alphonse Mucha poster. The building’s function is explained by the depiction of two heroes of printing, Gutenberg and William Morris on either side of a figure representing the spirit of literature, who reads a magazine called Illogical. At the apex of the building is a figure holding a torch and mirror which represents Light and Truth.

The Bristol Post reported “When the Edward Everard Printing Works opened in Broad Street in 1901, the building was considered so controversial that police had to control the crowds that flocked to see it.”

It continued to be a print works until 1967, when all but the façade was demolished to make way for Nat West Court. Designed by Alec French Partnership, the new offices opened in 1972 and followed the footprint of the medieval streets.

NatWest and Direct Line vacated the offices in 2017 and squatters moved in 2018-19. It was redeveloped in 2019-22 for the 255-bed Clayton Hotel and 24 residential flats, with tile installations by artist Adam Nathaniel Furman.

Modernist Bristol

Bristol’s modernist and brutalist buildings are rarely celebrated. Some are listed, many are threatened, a few are already gone. This book is a record and an appreciation of the buildings and the era that made them possible.

BUY MODERNIST BRISTOL

The buttresses, which splay out from the drum of the building, reminded me of visiting the magnificent Jantar Mantar in Jaipur.

It was built between 1962 and 1967. Frederick Gibberd & Partners beat 269 other entrants to design the cathedral. It was a tough brief.

Build a new cathedral for £1m within five years, and build it on the crypt begun by Edwin Lutyens in the 1930s which was to form the base of the largest Roman Catholic cathedral outside Rome before war and lack of money intervened. The crypt can still be visited and helps visualise the sheer scale of what might have been.

It is less stark than Clifton Cathedral. Like it, the design responds to the Vatican II reforms (which aimed to bring the clergy and the congregation closer together). When you first enter, you are met with a vast space bathed in blue and red light from the central lantern.

The glazed apex is symbolic of Christ’s crown of thorns. The lantern was designed by John Piper and Patrick Reyntiens and shifts in character as the sun moves round throughout the day.

They had worked similar wonders at Coventry Cathedral which has a similar theme of reconciliation.

It repays a slow visit. Give it an hour, let the light change, and you'll see a different building.

It’s why the strapline for my photography Substack is “helping me to look, when there is seemingly nothing new to see.”

I was reminded of this while reading Martin Parr talking about his photo, Conservative Midsummer Madness Party, in the final book published before his death, Utterly Lazy and Inattentive.

It’s one of my favourite photos of his. It’s of a Conservative event in mid-80s Bath.

My eye is always first drawn to the expression of the woman in the foreground with her solid Thatcher-style hair. She looks like she has just been told something she disapproves of and gives a look that could curdle milk.

Then I move to the two men forming that little huddle men make at parties when they’ve found someone bearable to talk to.

But Martin Parr describes how all the components of the photo work and points to the lady’s pink sandal in the background.

I had never noticed it before.

It’s a reminder for me — when observation is such a key part of my professional role as a web designer and of my own photography — that there is always something new to see. That I can never spend enough time looking at the detail, making sure everything on a web page or a photograph flows and is there for a reason.

What’s the pink sandal you haven’t spotted?

And so… in no particular order:

Tony Ray Jones by Tony Ray Jones

With Bill Brandt, Tony Ray Jones is the most influential British photographer of the 20th century. That’s quite a statement, but given that the highly influential Martin Parr wrote in the introduction of this book: “Tony Ray-Jones was one of my initial inspirations. His imagery showed me what was possible photographing my own country”, I think it’s quite fair.2

Parr added: “It was his ability to construct complex images, with everyone perfectly placed in the uniquely English atmosphere and surroundings, which struck a chord of recognition...”

Chris Killip 1948-2022 by Chris Killip

I was going to choose In Flagrante Two because it was such a groundbreaking photobook. However, this beautifully designed retrospective3 shows the full range of his work and asks you to devote quiet hours to it. Filled with pictures of communities reeling from the effects of de-industrialisation in 1970’s and 80’s Britain.

“History is what’s written, my pictures are what happened.” (Chris Killip).

Youth Unemployment by Trish Murtha

A hard-hitting book (with an occasional dash of humour) showing the awful waste of young people’s lives in early 1980s Newcastle. This is where Tish Murtha grew up and she knew many of the people she photographed.

I love this David Hurn reminiscence about her interview for the course in documentary photography in Newport: “Tish’s interview, in 1976, was the shortest we ever had. I saw in front of me a slight, fragile-looking 20 year-old and asked her what she wanted to photograph and she answered, “I want to learn to take photographs of policemen kicking kids.” I said, “You’re in!” I knew exactly what she meant and knew she had the deep passion and drive to be a social photographer.”

In England by Don McCullin

One of England’s greatest ever photographers showing our divide between the affluent and the destitute, the absurd and the tragic.

“I’ve known both poverty and privilege. The one can be every bit as crippling as the other. Well-educated, capable people fall because they have no horizon. I never feel I have arrived at some destination. There is always something ahead, another horizon. I still see the weaknesses of my work as a photographer.”

The Recent Past by James Ravilious

Photos of a small corner of rural North Devon taken in the 1970s and 80s. Ravilious’s4 eye for subject matter, light and composition provides a masterclass for any photographer. Along with his dedication to recording everyday life in his local countryside.

A1 - The Great North Road by Paul Graham

From Mack Books: “Graham had to self-publish A1, but as the first colour book, it had a startling impact on British photography. Uniting the tradition of social documentary with the fresh approach of new colour, A1 - The Great North Road was transformative on photography in the UK… Spanning the full length of England and into Edinburgh, Graham travelled repeatedly along the ‘Great North Road’ with a large format camera, to record the people, buildings, and landscape of early 1980’s Britain.”5

Looking at the Overlooked by John Myers

How could you not like a book with such marvellously mundane titles like Dual Carriageway, Factory forecourt, Lift doors at Waitrose, Television no.9 and Two road signs at the end of the road?

“There is no hidden story behind these photographs and no event is about to unfold beyond the frame. They are landscapes without incident.” (John Myers)6

‘Living Room’ by Nick Waplington

Photos of everyday life taken on a council estate in Broxtowe, Nottingham. They have extra resonance as I grew up at a similar time and in the same borough (albeit in very different circumstances). Time Out gave the accompanying exhibition a well-deserved 5* review:

“… it’s in the titular living room that the real drama plays out. This room is the stage, the set where the community acts out its relationships; a cramped, filthy, beautiful world unto itself. Babies are fed, toddlers are cuddled, fags are smoked, teas are split, clothes are ironed. It’s ultra-basic, super-mundane, but it’s overflowing with life and joy. Everyone is laughing, playing, wrestling.”

Strangely Familiar by Peter Mitchell

Factories with their workers, and small shops with their owners from Leeds in the 1970s. A perfect demonstration that the photos you take today will depict a piece of history in 30 years time.

The book is edited by Martin Parr who wrote “One of the roles of this volume is to… demonstrate what a fine documentary photographer Mitchell is.”

Martin Parr by Martin Parr

This is the book that began it all. One of my first two photobook purchases which has now developed into a sort of library.

“... he is always watching, taking in the detail, wandering around places where no one knows him, a collector of faces, gestures and social indiscretions.” (Val Williams)

Bonus Section - books about the UK by photographers not from the UK

London 1959 by Sergio Larrain

Grainy images of phantom figures, bus queues, city gentlemen, walks in the park, wanderings at night; all shrouded in winter fog

Glasgow by Raymond Depardon

“... poetic and eerie photo series capturing everyday life in some of the city’s most deprived neighbourhoods...” (Anaïs Brémond)

Endnote:

It’s striking that most of the books I have chosen depict British life in the 1970s and 80s. I think they resonate because I was a child and teenager during those years. Although I grew up in a comfortable middle-class home in Nottingham, I was aware of the old industries being dismantled (the flashpoints of the Miners’ Strike weren’t far away) and the damage it was having on people’s lives. I remember the cultural references of the era and felt the tension in the city. I was too young to understand what it meant, but I have always been a keen observer and this is the era my eyes were starting to open to the wider world around me.

He has taken some of the most iconic photos of our isles, mentored and influenced a generation of photographers and opened the Martin Parr Foundation in Bristol which “supports emerging, established and overlooked photographers who have made and continue to make work focused on Britain and Ireland.”

His retrospective, imaginatively called Martin Parr, was the first photobook I bought1.

He hasn’t always been appreciated in his own land (some felt uncomfortable about his depiction of our nation’s biggest preoccupation - class), but his death was front page news in France2. Meanwhile, Grayson Perry’s first words to him were “I love you Martin Parr”.

I am a member of the Martin Parr Foundation and often saw him speak at talks, exhibitions and tours.

Although I didn’t know him personally, I spoke to him once or twice. He was approachable and smiled a lot (but quick to move on if all you offered was small talk). If you visited an exhibition on a quiet weekday, he might pop out to say hello. Or on a tour of the archives, he’d sit on the sofa while members browsed the library and answer their questions. Ever the salesman, once he led me to the rare book shelf and tried to sell me i by Eamonn Doyle for £600. I resisted.

Having been president of Magnum, Martin Parr knew many great photographers and charmed them out of London for events at the Foundation in Bristol. Thanks to him, I’ve been in the presence of David Hurn, David Bailey, Don McCullin, Trent Parke, John Myers, Peter Mitchell, Sian Davey, Daniel Meadows, Eamonn Doyle, Elaine Constantine, Alec Soth and many more.

His death has prompted me to trawl through my library and reminisce about these events. On looking through the photos, I realise how few I have of him. I suppose his presence was familiar, which meant I concentrated on the guests rather than him.3

David Hurn and David Bailey - 4th October 2019

David Hurn lives nearby (just across the bridge in South Wales) and in 2019 donated an extensive archive of his work to the Foundation. When he is not on the stage regaling us with interesting insights and amusing anecdotes, he will be in the audience at every event listening intently to the photographer on stage.

Here he is sharing one of many jokes with the entertainingly curmudgeonly David Bailey. Their memories of working and playing in the swinging 60s made for a great double act.

Don McCullin - 29th September 2020

Don McCullin and Martin Parr have a very different approach to photography, but they have a deep respect for each other’s work.4

I have seen Don McCullin speak on many occasions and each time I am in awe of his bravery, his humility and his ability to see. He mainly speaks in larger venues, but one of the benefits of the Foundation is that it is relatively small and guests tend to mill about afterwards.5

Ephemera Tour - 11th March 2023

As a member of the Foundation there are regular tours of the archives and library. This was a particularly enjoyable tour of the ephemera Martin Parr has collected over the years. On the wall are his photos from Chew Stoke.

The most interesting item for me was Tony Ray Jones light meter. A piece of history. Martin Parr said of him: “Tony Ray-Jones was one of my initial inspirations. His imagery showed me what was possible photographing my own country.”

David Hurn - 6th September 2023

When a David Hurn event is announced, we are always quick to book.6 He is such an entertaining raconteur and on this evening he talked about his first ever monograph.

He always has his camera with him. Like we all should.

Daniel Meadows - 21st February 2024

Martin Parr and Daniel Meadows are lifelong friends (they studied together at Manchester Polytechnic between 1970-73). At this event he talked about his seminal Book of the Road:

“Driving over 10,000 miles in a double-decker bus, the wild-haired young Meadows spent 14 months mapping the length and breadth of England, photographing 958 people…”

On the same evening we celebrated Steve’s birthday. Steve had the bright idea of asking Martin Parr to take a photo of us - which he graciously did. His reward? A slice of Pey’s delicious cake.

This same group of friends (plus Karen) last saw Martin Parr on 18th November 2025. It was an evening at his Foundation where he talked about his new biography, Utterly Lazy and Inattentive (these are the words a teacher used to describe him in a school report). He was as entertaining and as interesting and as witty as ever, and looked the healthiest I’ve seen him since his cancer diagnosis in 2021.

Thank you Martin Parr.

This is a newsy email rather than my normal selection of photos, or musings on my favourite photographers or photobooks.

Thank you for indulging me,

Andrew

THE MONTHLY JOTTER

Firstly, I have moved my non-photography email newsletter, The Monthly Jotter, over to Substack. The next one will be arriving in people’s inboxes at elevenses1 (GMT) tomorrow (Friday).

The Jotter is a concise mix of curious thoughts on creativity, design and culture that might change how you see things.

If you’d like to get a flavour, you can read last month’s here.

If you’d like to receive the next Jotter, then please feel free to subscribe here:

SUBSCRIBE TO THE JOTTER

People say the kindest things about it.

Like Ritka: “As you know I love the Jotter. But you also serve to be a ‘jolter’ in my case. You make me reconsider past events / introduce me to new concepts. Thank you. Your e-mails make me think…”

Or : “I’ve subscribed to Andrew’s Jotter for some time now and have always enjoyed its diverse mix of thoughtful and thought-provoking items. It’s well worth a subscription, in my opinion. You won’t be disappointed.”

BRUTAL BRISTOL

Secondly, between Wednesday 8th to Sunday 12th October, I am participating in a collaborative exhibition which celebrates Bristol’s post-war architecture through photography, illustrations, publications, and more.

Some of these buildings have been, or are about to be, demolished. While others, such as Broadmead Baptist Church, have recently been listed by English Heritage. The exhibition aims to shine a light on this loved and loathed period of architecture.

We will also be launching the Bristol Chapter of The Modernist with sold-out photo walks and visits to Broadmead Baptist Church.

Please do come along if you are nearby, I’d love to see you there.

As a taster, here’s a selection of brutiful Bristol photos.

If you live across the Channel, or the Pond, or on the other side of the world, and it’s a little too far away for you to come, you can soothe your disappointment (or FOMO if you are of a different generation), by owning a copy of Brutiful Bristol. It’s a 24 page tabloid of Bristol’s best post-war buildings and is available in print or download.

BUY BRUTIFUL BRISTOL

Thank you for reading this far. At the end of each Monthly Jotter I have a habit of sharing a photo of Gretl and I don’t see why you should miss out. Here she is on a Cornish beach last week.

The good news is tomorrow’s photo is different (it’s a beautiful one of her meeting her mum earlier this month).

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The Museum of London, part of the Barbican estate, was (according to 20th Century Society), “the first post-war museum to be built in London and the largest urban history museum in the world.” Above it, on stilts, is Bastion House. Both were designed by Powell & Moya.

Will Noble amusingly wrote “…. it looks like the world's biggest broken flight departures board, or the Evil Headquarters of an Evil Corporation where Evil People think up Evil Ideas.”

Which is why I like it so much.

There is an application to demolish both buildings now the Museum of London is moving to Smithfield Market. Historic England have issued a Certificate of Immunity from listing, so the likliehood is that we will have to say farewell to yet another post-war building. This is despite opposition from the Barbican Association (88% would like to see the buildings restored and reused).

The developers would like to build a pair of 13 and 16 storey office blocks. This contradicts the City of London Corporation’s sustainability policy which is committed to ‘promoting the reuse of existing buildings’

This is yet another example of a generation not appreciating the work of the generation which preceded them. Or as Jonathan Meade’s said, “there’s nothing so dated as the recent past.” This short-sighted demolition will be lamented by those who come after us.

News just in… there may be a reprieve. On 23rd September 2025 Barbican Quarter Action were given permission to legally challenge the demolition at The High Court.1

Let’s hope it succeeds.

Together, the books portray how people experienced economic changes, bureaucratic indifference and sectarian violence during a period of profound social change.

Their influence goes beyond the subject matter. A1 - The Great North Road was the first significant colour photobook published in the UK and, like William Eggleston’s Guide in the US, it paved the way for a new generation of British photographers to embrace colour film.1

A1 - The Great North Rd

1981-82

The A1, or The Great North Road, runs 393 miles between the capitals of England and Scotland.

As a child, Paul Graham’s family would drive north from Harlow to the Lake District for their annual two week holiday. A journey of anticipation and excitement. Where bypassed towns like Grantham or Newark held an air of intrigue.

He later drove along it as an adult and noticed a change. Once people travelled along it “to bear witness to the landscape.” Now it was the quickest means to get from A to B as “fast, efficiently and blindly as possible.” In search of a project as he began his photographic career, this felt like a perfect subject to document the changing personality of the country.

By the early 80s its romanticised heyday of AA road maps, Morris Minors and thermos flasks had long gone. In its place were lorry drivers and sales reps. Waiting staff on long shifts in cafes or waiting by bus stops. Transport cafes with ashtrays and Formica - interiors from a bygone era. But there is an affection in these photos. A nostalgic respect for those who travel and work on the road.

The A1 project was a very English Road trip. An understated contrast to the freewheeling romanticism of Highway 66 in the US. I’m not aware of any films celebrating beatnik poets cadging lifts in transit vans to Doncaster, or an indie band singing about a truck stop near Bedford. There was no open road. Just heavy grey skies and greasy spoons.2

Paul Graham wrote “Photographically, the A1 granted the freedom to photograph whatever and wherever - portraits, interiors, still life, landscapes, truck stops, transport bed-and-breakfasts, sunsets and grey skies, the wind moving hedgerows or rain-smeared forecourts - all and everything could be embraced along the way.”

VIEW PHOTOS

Beyond Caring

1984-85

Two years later, Paul Graham shifted his focus from the road to the welfare system, documenting the dehumanising experience of unemployment offices “where political ideology and citizens' lives collided.”

At this time, the UK averaged 3m unemployed. Like Covid reported the number of deaths each day, I recall the BBC 9 O’clock News in the 80s talking about the hundreds and thousands of job losses each day as factories shut with nothing to replace them.

These photos show the boredom, hopelessness and frustration of having to wait hours to see someone. Nobody wants to be there, wasting their days. Nobody wants to rely on the state to live, to be looked down on as benefit scroungers by politicians and newspapers that should know better. They want to earn a living and work their way to a better life.

There are photographs of people sitting on uncomfortable chairs in packed waiting rooms. Reading a tabloid or strict notices saying ‘do not smoke’, ‘do not go to a cubicle without an appointment’, ‘do not pass this point’... and on the orders go.

Graham captured the long queues, bureaucratic indifference, and the resigned frustration of people navigating a system that seemed designed to break their spirit. Institutions had moved beyond caring…

VIEW PHOTOS

Troubled Land

1986-87

Most photographs of The Troubles in Northern Ireland3 depicted violence in stark black and white4. Paul Graham took a different approach. He photographed every day scenes of roundabouts, landscapes and roads in colour. But in each photo there is a reference to The Troubles. You may not notice it at first. On closer inspection, you might see that beyond the roundabout is an armed soldier running. Or while admiring a bucolic landscape, you see a Union Flag in a tree (see above) and on the road a kerbstone coloured in red white and blue. Border posts warning those who enter which side they are on.

His photos show how sectarianism reshapes people’s lives, turning everyday scenes into sites of tension and surveillance. The militarised landscape of checkpoints and watchtowers became part of the mundane reality for those living through the Troubles.

Paul Graham wrote “… it was a conflict photograph masquerading as a landscape photograph.”

These three books depict the human cost of historical change in 1980s Britain: the closing of traditional industries, the dismantling of society5 and the escalation of sectarian violence.

“History doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes.”

It was a wet and grey January day in London, but as I emerged from Tate Britain in the morning and Tate Modern in the afternoon, the sun shone. A special light. Clear after the rain, when the light lays low and the leafless trees show views hidden in spring.

The Switch House (Tate Modern, London)
Built 1995-2016, Designed by Herzog & de Meuron

16 years after Tate Modern opened (transforming Britain’s attitude to modern art), The Switch House extension added 60% more exhibiting space. Its foundations (and entrance from the Turbine Hall) are the huge underground oil tanks which used to be the beating heart of the power station.

The 336,000 latticed bricks adds texture to the swirl of the building.

My dad, an architect, loved brick. He thought it was the finest building material. He judged awards in the Midlands for craftspeople who agreed. I think he would have liked the Switch House.

Clore Gallery (Tate Britain, London)
Built 1980-85, Designed by Sir James Stirling

This post-modernist extension was built to house the Tate’s Turner collection. However, many felt that the design didn’t reflect Turner’s art at all, in particular the choice of green.

Gavin Stamp wrote in the Daily Telegraph: “I …have the strong impression that an architect is showing off at the expense of England’s greatest painter”

The Holburne Museum
Built 2002-11, Designed by Eric Parry Architects

Bath, conscious of being only one of a few cities designated as a World Heritage Site, is notoriously conservative with new buildings.

Those with influence prefer the pastiche of the Southgate Centre to more interesting designs. The Holburne Gallery extension is a rare exception. Eric Parry’s ceramic clad cube sits in glorious contrast to the Georgian front, yet it provides a successful transition from the 18th century splendour of Great Pulteney Street to the greenery of Sydney Gardens.

All three extensions contrast with the buildings they are attached to, but they somehow work together.

Art is crucial for understanding the past, present and future. As Robert Rauschenberg said: “The artist's job is to be a witness to his time in history.”

Similarly these galleries and their extensions reflect the time they were built and how one era influences another in unexpected ways.

When we talk about iconic modern architecture, the buildings of Bristol are rarely mentioned. Bombed heavily in the Second World War, much of the city and industrial centres had to be rebuilt in the 50s and 60s.

In 1961, the entertainingly polemical architectural writer, Ian Nairn, described post-war Bristol as “unrelieved gloom” and its rebuilt centre was of “overpowering mediocrity, neither good to look at nor fun to walk round.”

I was a student in Bristol during the late 80s and, whilst loving living there, I could appreciate his view. Like so many cities in those days, I recall a pedestrian unfriendly city of no-go areas, of underpasses and flyovers, of cars spewing out lead fumes and of crumbling buildings covered in soot and pigeon pooh.

But when you look closer, there are many examples of mid to late 20th century architecture that deserve to be celebrated. New places to live, park, work, worship, learn and relax were built during this period of post-war optimism by architects, planners and the public who wanted to build a new world.

During our uncertain times, itʼs good to remember a period when there was real hope for a better future. These buildings, despite their flaws, serve as a reminder of what is possible.

Brutiful Bristol Publication

This spring the sun has shone on the West Country, so I spent a few days completing a 10 year photo project on my favourite modernist buildings in Bristol. A 24 page tabloid is the result.

The print edition costs £10 including UK delivery. If you live on one of the overseas continents and would like a copy, please email me. Alternatively, a PDF download is available for £3.50.

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Here’s a taster…

The Castlemead Trinity

The Marriott Hotel, Broadmead Car Park (1960) and Castlemead Tower (1973-81) provide a concrete triptych of such monumental beauty it deserves national recognition amongst Brutalist aficionados.

Clifton Roman Catholic Cathedral

The Cathedral Church of Saints Peter and Paul (1973) was completed for the sum of £601,268 and described as the “ecclesiastical bargain of the 1970s.” Pevsner’s Architectural Guide to Bristol wrote that the Cathedral was a “sermon in concrete.” Mike Jenner called it “one of the great interiors of the last 50 years in Britain.”

Cheese Lane Shot Tower

This landmark Grade II listed structure (1968-69) wouldnʼt look out of place at an airport. It is a direct descendant of the first shot tower ever built in 1772. This newer tower is one of only three remaining in the country. Manufacturing stopped in the late 80s and it is now an office with probably the best located boardroom in Bristol on the top floor.

BE BRUTIFUL

Broadmead Car Park

The top level of this car park provides panoramic views of Bristol. Unfortunately the entrances are secured against wandering pedestrians, so to enjoy them youʼll have to park your car there.

Redcliffe Estate

Francome House (1960) enjoys fine views over the River Avon. Crossing to the other side of the river you notice that the arches rising from river level to support the road above are echoed by the roofline.

Dickinson Robinson Building

The Dickinson Robinson Building (1960- 63) was the first high-rise office block built in Bristol. It has a classical, simple facade. The orderly pattern of windows echo the bonded warehouses that once stood nearby. Attempts to list it have so far failed. Letʼs hope Historic England come to their senses soon.

BRISTOL, WE LOVE YOU

Broadmead Baptist Church

‘The church above the shopsʼ (1967-68) was Grade II Listed in 2024. Catherine Croft, Director of the 20th Century Society, commented: “Bristolʼs Broadmead Baptist Church is one of the best examples of how it pays to look up: above the dreary façade of a mini-supermarket is a riot of sculptural, expressive concrete forms dancing against the skyline.”

Rupert Street Car Park

This pioneering and ambitious car park, built between 1959-60, will soon be demolished. It was the first in England to have a continuous parking ramp. Half a mile of gently rising slope to give cars a place to rest.

Upon opening, The Bristol Evening Post waxed lyrical about it: “Some of the glamour which 100 years ago attached to the railways, then such potent symbols of manʼs advance, attaches to this dramatic building catering for our own favourite method of transport. But it is important to realise that this drama is communicated only because the purpose the building serves – car parking - is expressed very clearly. Such boldness is never common.”

Brutiful Bristol Publication

A 24 page tabloid with a selection of photos and accompanying text of my favourite brutalist buildings in Bristol and laments for buildings which are under threat or demolished.

Printed on 55gsm bright recycled paper. This is thicker and better quality than a tabloid newspaper which is normally printed on 42gsm newsprint paper.

Also available as a high quality PDF download.

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I first visited Coventry Cathedral with my parents as a teenager. It was a formative experience. A cherished memory.

I had never visited a building like this before. I was awed by its modernist grandeur, the beautifully designed details, the sense of space and the sense of peace.

I pass it on my trek northwards to visit my brother and every 2-3 years take the detour to revisit. Each time I take a deep breath in wonder as I enter.1

St Michael’s Cathedral was destroyed by one of the 200 bombs dropped on Coventry during the night of 14th November 1940. Only the tower, spire, outer wall and the tomb of the first bishop survived.

The next morning the Provost, Richard Howard, chalked “Father Forgive” on the wall.

In 1951, Sir Basil Spence was appointed the architect after being inspired by Howard’s gesture of reconciliation. Out of a competition of 200 architects, he was the only one who insisted that the new Cathedral should be built next to the bombed site and that the remnants of the old one become a garden of remembrance.

It is now one of the most popular buildings in the country, but when Sir Basil Spence first revealed the plans he received hundreds of letters the next morning: “80% were rude and the remaining 20% were very rude.” Some things never change.

The Cathedral is populated with work by key artists of the day. Sir Jacob Epstein’s sculpture of Archangel Michael overcoming the Devil dominates the outside.

John Piper’s stunning Baptistry Window greets you as you enter with (in Piper’s own words) “a burst of glory.”

I could stare at the patterns of light for hours.

Graham Sutherland’s tapestry behind the altar is reputedly the largest in the world. It was woven by hand on a 500-year-old-loom at a workshop near Aubusson in France.

At the entrance is this most wonderful message of welcome:

We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, widowed, straight, gay, confused, well-heeled or down-at-heel. We especially welcome wailing babies and excited toddlers. We welcome you whether you can sing like Pavarotti or just growl quietly to yourself. You're welcome here if you're just browsing, just woken up or just got out of prison. We don't care if you're more Christian than the Archbishop of Canterbury or haven't been to church since Christmas 10 years ago. We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet and to teenagers who are growing up too fast.

We welcome keep-fit moms, football dads, starving artists, tree huggers, latte sippers, vegetarians, junk food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you're having problems, are down in the dumps or don't like organised religion. We're not that keen on it either. We offer welcome to those who think the Earth is flat, work too hard, don't work, can't spell, or are here because Granny is visiting and wanted to come to the cathedral. We welcome those who are inked, pierced, both or neither.

We offer a special welcome to those who could use a prayer right now, had religion shoved down their throats as kids or got lost on the Ring Road and wound up here by mistake. We welcome pilgrims, tourists, seekers, doubters and you.

If you are roaming around the heart of England, a trip to see this building of reconciliation will improve your day no end.

Would like to see more photos of this and other British buildings from the last 100 years? Well, here is a button to press:

A BURST OF GLORY

Like St Pauls Cathedral, it is is Grade I Listed and described by Historic England “as one of the key buildings of the modern epoch.”

Owen Hatherley in the sacred text, Modern Buildings in Britain wrote:

“Non-Londoners - if you have time in the capital to see one building, make it this one. This outrageous, paranoid, disturbing building is one of the single most thrilling architectural experiences in Europe.”

As with the Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano designed Pompidou Centre in Paris, this is an inside-outside building. The services and circulation systems (water pipes, heating, ducts and lifts) are exposed to passers-by, creating a striking mechanical feel which seems more suited to an oil refinery than an insurance market. The style was dubbed ‘Bowellism’.

This freed up the interior to give Lloyds an uncluttered, adaptable space to suit its changing business needs for decades to come. It was this flexibility that won Rogers the commission.

The building was squeezed into a small corner of the City of London. Richard Rogers wrote in his book, Architecture: a modern view, “we set out to enhance the narrow medieval street pattern of the city by building over the whole site. This allows the viewer to catch only glimpses of the building, which is therefore designed to be seen in parts.”

The quality of the materials, the imagination of the design and the scale of the building commands you to stop. To let the busy business people rush past while you take time to absorb the details, notice the shapes and admire the gleaming metallic finishes.

On completion, the client asked “Why didn’t you tell us it would look like this?”, to which Rogers replied “Because I didn’t know.”

All the architects knew was that they were making something beautiful. But there is nothing logical about making an office look like this except because they could (and the client let them).

Next time you are in London and you want to challenge your pre-conceptions of an England of Georgian terraces, Cotswold cottages and Gothic churches, you know where to go.

Would you like to see more buildings which will make you go:

WOW... OR UGH...

I know it has been a while. Sorry. But after having a photo published in The Guardian…

… and being included in the soon-to-be-published Brutal Bristol II, I thought it time to design a website to house a selection of photos of my favourite buildings from the last 100 years.

HERE'S THE WEBSITE

One of my key motivations for photographing modern buildings is to record them before they go. I was spurred on by the sad demolition of Birmingham Library in 2016 and my lack of foresight in photographing it from every angle possible.

So here is a little something about the first multiplex cinema in the UK which will probably be demolished soon…

“A whimsical Constructivist pyramid”.

(Owen Hatherley)

This iconic pyramid building, The Point, was the first multiplex cinema in the UK. Its stacked boxes with reflective windows, framed in red steel, stands out amongst the straight roads and flat buildings of Milton Keynes.1

Building it was a gamble, but a well-timed one. It opened in 1985 when going to the cinema was in decline due to the growth in home videos.2 If people could watch films at home, why go to a sticky fleapit which could only show one film at a time? So The Point had comfortable seats, stunning audio and multiple screens. Audiences loved it.

It was the busiest cinema in the UK for a while but by 2000 its fortunes were turning as the nearby Xscape opened with even more screens. In 2015 the cinema closed and it is currently used as a base for charities and community groups.

Historic England3 declined to list it and the first plans to demolish it were as long ago as 2012. The latest planning permission has been applied for to replace it with 487 flats in tower blocks of up to 21 storeys high.

Charity ReturnMK, who refer to The Point as the city’s Big Ben, hope to turn it into a place for education, work training and socialising - open to all.

The Point is on the 20th Century Society’s Buildings at Risk list. Richard Gray, Cinema Theatre Association casework chairman, said that it is “not only a stunning visual asset for Milton Keynes, but as Britain’s first American style multiplex, it’s a building of huge historical and architectural importance”.

I hope this unique and historical building is preserved. There are already more than enough flat boxes in Milton Keynes.

You can view more buildings under threat in the UK here:

UNDER THREAT... OR GONE

Photos taken 51 weeks ago (blimey, I am behind), on 26th March 2024 with my trusty Leica Q.

In this post I share my favourite exhibitions of the year. I hope you will forgive me for going beyond the scope of photographs to include artists. After all, centuries of art have influenced many photographers (and occasionally the other way round). And in the case of Saul Leiter, his exhibition displayed both his paintings and photographs.

Although, as pointed out, Van Gogh (more of him later) wrote in a letter to his brother, Theo: "In a photograph, a person's likeness is fixed forever... but to me, painting offers the chance to go beyond that and show something of the eternal."

The Charcoal Heads by Frank Auerbach

At the Courtauld Gallery, London.

Visited on 15th February 2024

I have never seen art like this. By drawing, scratching, erasing and repeatedly reworking his charcoal drawings, Frank Auerbach created portraits of such depth I could only stand and look and be awed at how powerful art can be.

Saul Leiter: An Unfinished World

At the MK Gallery, Milton Keynes.

Visited on 26th March 2024.

What a treat. Visiting the most comprehensive survey of his work ever displayed in the UK. Photographs and paintings spanning his entire career with the added bonus of seeing it with my dear friend, Stefan Powell.

The Bradford on Avon Photography Group Annual Exhibition

At the West Barn, Bradford on Avon.

Visited 4th to 6th May 2024.

This is the exhibition I enjoyed most this year. Ok, I’m biased. I’m involved along with a dozen other local photographers. We aren’t a typical photography club. We have no rules or committee. We don’t care which camera or phone you use. We rarely talk about lenses or shutter speeds. It’s the photo and the story behind it that counts. All else is noise.

National Treasures: Caravaggio

At the Ulster Museum, Belfast.

Visited on 15th June 2024.

I like small exhibitions (one of my most memorable experiences was seeing The Last Supper in a refectory in Milan). And so it was here, just two paintings by Caravaggio in one room. ‘The Supper at Erasmus’ and ‘The Taking of Christ.’ Slow art at its best. Taking time to look and absorb the artist’s genius.

Graduate Show

City and Guilds of London Art School.

Visited on 25th June 2024.

Ok, ok. Like my local photo group exhibition, I’m a bit biased. This show included my very talented niece, Issy (in the centre), and her very talented friends.

Monument by Trent Parke

At the Martin Parr Foundation, Bristol.

Visited on 25th October 2024.

My favourite photobook of 2023 has turned into my joint favourite photography exhibition of 2024. I know how lucky I am to have the Martin Parr Foundation in nearby Bristol. His influential role in Magnum means he can tempt some of the greats of contemporary photography to his bijou exhibition space. This series of extraordinary photos are “a portal through which we witness the disintegration of the universe.”

Van Gogh: Poets and Lovers

At the National Gallery, London.

Visited on 11th November 2025.

To see so many of his extraordinary paintings in London may be a once in lifetime opportunity. I will remember this experience for many a year.

If you’d like to read more about this wonderful exhibition, has kindly obliged.

I hope you enjoyed my little reminiscence of this year’s favourite exhibitions. I already have a few planned in the new year (Electric Dreams at Tate Modern, Tirzah Garwood at Dulwich Picture Gallery and The 80s at Tate Britain). I wonder which will appear in my list for 2025.

In the meantime, I wish you all a happy and healthy new year.

‘On Reading’ by David Hurn

This book makes me smile. A celebration of the ancient art of reading (mostly) print. Hurn created the work in response to a book of the same name by André Kertész. They met in 1983:

“I told him that one of my favourite books was his, small in size, On Reading, first published in 1971 – Kertész’s father was a bookseller – after much chatting and laughing, I suggested, that if he gave his permission, I would re-do the book when I was 89. He gave his permission. This is the result.”

Purchased from the publisher RRB Photobooks.

‘Living Room’ by Nick Waplington

Photos of everyday life taken on a council estate in Broxtowe, Nottingham. They have extra resonance as I grew up at a similar time and in the same borough (albeit in very different circumstances). Time Out gave the accompanying exhibition a well-deserved 5* review:

“… it’s in the titular living room that the real drama plays out. This room is the stage, the set where the community acts out its relationships; a cramped, filthy, beautiful world unto itself. Babies are fed, toddlers are cuddled, fags are smoked, teas are split, clothes are ironed. It’s ultra-basic, super-mundane, but it’s overflowing with life and joy. Everyone is laughing, playing, wrestling.”

Purchased from Photobook Junkies.

‘Long Walk Home’ by Robbie Lawrence

Robbie Lawrence’s approach to colour, composition and book design make him one of my favourite contemporary photographers. Here we have photographs of The Highland Games hosted across Scotland and the USA which “examines the cultural significance of the traditional community tournament and questions the very notion of what it is to be from a place.”

Purchased from the publisher Stanley Barker.

‘Here, In Absence’ by Mikael Siirilä

Intriguing, mysterious photos all bound in a beautifully designed book. Mikael Siirilä describes himself not as a photographer, but as a “darkroom artist.”

He writes “My small individual photographs examine the themes of absence, presence and outsiderhood. My characters appear immersed in their inner worlds and moments of being: simultaneously absent and intensely present. The pictures also reveal the outsider’s gaze, lost in observation and reflection.”

Purchased from the photographer.

(Thank you, , for introducing me to his work).

‘Skinningrove’ by Chris Killip

This is the last book Chris Killip worked on before he died in 2020. Some had appeared in other publications, but this is the first time the whole series has been brought together in one book.

The publisher, STANLEY/BARKER writes “The village of Skinningrove lies on the North-East coast of England, hidden in a steep valley it veers away from the main road and faces out onto the North Sea. The photographs that Chris Killip made of its, fiercely independent hard working-class community, between 1982 and 1984 are possibly Killip’s most intimate work.”

Purchased from Photobook Junkies.

‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ by Peter Mitchell

This is Peter Mitchell’s first retrospective and was published to accompany a memorable exhibition at Leeds Art Gallery earlier this year. As Val Williams wrote, Peter is “a narrator of how we were, a chaser of a disappearing world”.

Purchased from the publisher RRB Photobooks.

‘A Time - A Place’ by John Piercy Holroyd and Daniel Hopkinson

A couple of years ago a plan was hatched between an architect and an architectural photographer in which each European Car of the Year between 1964-1982 is paired with a building completed in the same year. The result is a mix of nostalgia and the contemporary.

Purchased from The Modernist Society

He kindly invited me to his soundcheck so I could walk among the Collective and press on my silent shutter when I saw something of (musical) note.

Sadly it was for one evening only. I hope he plays it live again soon…

… or meticulously records Gaia to a phonograph.

All photos clicked on 7th November 2024.

The City is the oldest part of London.1 A self-governing democracy for the past 1000 years which is probably the most powerful place on these isles (and sometimes the world). By keeping the Normans at bay it was granted special autonomy in 1075. Occasionally Kings tried to bring The City under their control but it was either met with rebuke, abdication, or beheading.2

From the 1600s it became a hub for money lending, insurance and ‘cleaning’ which it still excels at today.

Populated by men and women clad in suits, talking about serious things laced with fake bonhomie. Making deals so large that a minuscule fraction of a percentage point will impact all of us. The lack of customer service at your local chainstore (despite them saying they put their customer first), can be traced back to a spreadsheet pored over by myriad brains in one of those offices high above.

On days like these, I have lunch in Leadenhall Market3 so I can eavesdrop on their conversations. It’s a world away from how I live my life. I do it because I want to have an inkling of how our opaque world works.

I also like the early September light…

… and avoiding security guards who think photographers might be terrorists. Stay on the streets, beyond the granite benches which discourages anyone without a home from lying down, and they can’t get you.

This month they are running Sculpture in the City.4 Public art of varying quality, some of which questions the City itself. But the City fathers are too busy counting beans to realise this.

Public art means I have a ready made excuse to take photos. Even the security guards (who are only doing what their masters tells them), have to give me some slack

All photos taken on Wednesday 11th September with my trusty Leica Q.

Devon is a bucolic county in the south west of England. An idyll of green grass, country lanes edged by bulky hedgerows, cows clotting cream, estuaries dotted with pleasure boats and, I risk the ire of our Cornish brethren by writing this, serving cream teas in the right way2.

It’s also the home of Britain’s ocean city, Plymouth, which is where I spent a very pleasurable day photographing some of the city’s post-war buildings.

Being a major port and naval base, the Luftwaffe bombed the hell out of the city centre and docks.3 In 1941, the city appointed Patrick Abercrombie4 to plan for the city’s reconstruction. By 1964 over 20,000 new homes emerged from the rubble and the city centre was shiny and new.

Plymouth Civic Centre was built in 1962 to house the city council offices.

In 2007 it was Grade II listed and saved from demolition. In 2014 Urban Splash5 bought it for £1 with plans to convert it into residential use. These fell through and the council have since bought it back for £1 with plans to convert into a city college.

Plymouth has a mix of modernist styles and if I knew more about architectural history I would tell you exactly what these were. For now, shall we settle on post-war? Which is wide enough to let my eye guide me to those buildings which appeal.

This is the MLA College. I don’t know who designed it, or when it was built, or who has used it before. But I do like the concrete window frames and the blue, blue, electric blue (as Mr Bowie once sang).

Brutiful stairs taking you to your chosen level of the car park. The design of these stairs are common thread which runs through many buildings of this era.

Plymouth Police Station looks welcoming in the summer sun.

As does the magistrates courts.

Why don’t they make shopping centres like this anymore?

… or offices. Who needs sunlight streaming into the place they work when their faces can be gently lit by computer screens?

Photographers and their Photobooks

There are a couple of Devon photographs whose books I regularly take from the shelf.

Robert Darch’s ‘Vale’ is described by The Guardian as “Paradise lost: nature photos that mourn a lost youth. His beautiful rural landscapes could be escapism…or something more sinister.” 

James Ravilious’s ‘The Recent Past’ photographed parts of Devon which “clung to its traditional life for longer than many other parts of Britain, and although his photographs were taken as recently as the 1970s or 1980s, they capture a way of life that is vanishing, or has vanished.”

Given the number of photos I have, I almost didn’t take the short pedway to the neighbouring Barbican. What new view would I possibly see?

But I’m glad I did. The estate was in full bloom and the sun shone.

The Blitz3 destroyed most of this part of London. Out of the ashes grew the biggest redevelopment scheme in Europe at the time. It is one of Londonʼs most ambitious and unique architectural achievements.

At its opening in 1972, Queen Elizabeth II said “What has been created here must be one of the wonders of the modern world".

Designed as a city within a city it houses 4000 residents, two schools, a church, a library, a lake, a conservatory and an arts centre.4

This is an example of how a 1960s brutalist project can look, when it is built with quality materials and is properly maintained.

There is no monotony. Textures range from smooth to rough. There are half a mile of pedways which are narrow or wide, covered or uncovered. Some offer glimpses; others wide vistas. Buildings are high and low, taking on different shapes depending on the angle you approach them from.

And still we have one survivor from the Blitz, the Gothic Church of St Giles-without-Cripplegate5. Nestling comfortably amongst its modern neighbours.

Behind is the aforementioned Bastion House. Will Noble amusingly wrote in @londonist_com:

“…. it looks like the world's biggest broken flight departures board, or the Evil Headquarters of an Evil Corporation where Evil People think up Evil Ideas.” Which is why I like it so much.