Rebirth

I think it's safe to say the new Liverpool Central's a triumph.

I stepped off the train this morning into a gleaming, shiny white new world.  The Wirral Line platform (the Northern Line is coming in the Autumn) is now a wonderful place to be.

Removing the heavy brown plastic mouldings that previously occupied the platform wall has made it feel so much lighter and more pleasant.  Removing the rubber floor helps too.  The seating's been replaced with these grey and yellow beauties, which I believe are the same ones featured on the London Underground:

The other thing that strikes you is - there are no ads.  This must surely be a temporary measure; I can't believe that they've decided to just give up a handy revenue stream.   Equally, I can't see how they can put them in now that the cladding's in place.  I assume that there is going to be some kind of display case put in later, because I really hope this isn't permanent:

Yes, those timetables are pasted on the wall.  That's going to get really unpleasant really quickly.  Still, as you can see from the light boxes above, there's still a lot of work to do.  As I worked my way up to the concourse my fellow escalator riders were mainly Merseyrail staff and hi-vis clad builders, staring at me and my camera as though I was some kind of lunatic.  Ha!

I don't know if it was because it was so early in the morning, or if it's the new white tiling, but the station's acquired a zen-calmness.  Again, the lack of posters adds to the effect.  The station suddenly feels like that very calm transit station at the start of Star Trek: The Motion Picture: gleaming, pale efficiency.

The posters reappear at the mezzanine between escalators, so any hope I had that they were being replaced by whizzy LCD video screens was dashed.

Also gone: that massive poster space over the head of the Wirral Line escalators, the one that advertised a computer game shop that stocked games for "Commodore, Spectrum, Amstrad" well into the 21st Century.  I wish I'd got a photo of that while it was still there.  Sigh.

Anyway, that's gone, to be replaced by some tiles.  Probably for the best, as the last advertiser there was the Sony Centre on Paradise Street, and they've gone the same way as the Commodore.  It's a cursed space.

All this is, of course, just the hors d'oeuvres before le grand buffet: the new look ticket hall.  I'd lowered my expectations, to be honest, trying not to have high hopes.  There was no need.  Damn it looks good.

That big yellow space on the left is the new-look toilet area.  It's no longer a grim, UV-lit hole; instead it looks like something straight out of The Colour Tsars' fantasies.

There are LCD advertising spaces up here, as well as photos of the old Liverpool Central building across the back wall (unfortunately my pic was hopelessly blurred - sorry!).  Turn right and you pass through the ticket barriers - exit barriers in the centre.

The MtoGo's had a bit of a tarting up, though not much because obviously it's still pretty new.  It's been re-branded over the door - "easy-to-eat food" - just in case you were worried that they were selling live squid or doughnuts with nails in or something.

That emergency exit on the left, incidentally, isn't permanent, in case you're worried that the Colour Tsars missed a bit.  That will eventually give escalator access to the new Central Village development.

The biggest change in the ticket hall is... light.  There's actual, real daylight streaming into the hall now. A major design flaw in the old station was the location of the lift down to the platforms.  It was actually outside, meaning that the disabled, the elderly and mothers with prams had to walk through the rain to get out.  That area has now been brought into the main ticket hall and roofed over with a glass ceiling.

It makes everything so much brighter, and also means you get a good view of the Victorian rooftops behind.

Also in this space is the final part of Grant Searl's Animate the Underground series.  It previously got the short straw, being stuck on the floor of the station in a spot where you couldn't pause and contemplate it.  Now it brightens up the path to the lift, and it looks so much better.  Did they ever announce what the solution to the riddle was, by the way?  I don't remember seeing it anywhere.

Basically, Liverpool Central's a joy.  They've taken it, washed it down and made it new again.  My only concerns are those posters stuck to the walls (that can't be the final version, can it?) and a tiny worry about whether those brilliant white walls are going to stay brilliantly white for long.  I feel like standing at the entrance to the station and confiscating magic markers off particularly cheeky-looking scallies in case they decide to mark it for posterity.

After a bit of shopping, I got the train back from Lime Street, meaning that we paused at Central and I got to see it gleam all over again.  There were some dignitaries on the platform (presumably they're waiting for the Northern Line to reopen before they invite me round - I can do the official opening, if you want, Merseyrail).  I loved watching people getting off the train and taking it all in, and I can't wait for the new look to spread across the other underground stations.  I've seen the future, and it's ruddy marvellous.

Riddle Me That

The passageway from Old Hall Street to the platforms at Moorfields is ridiculously long.  I mean, colossal.  By the time you emerge at the other end you expect to see Manchester Town Hall, not the back of the Echo building.

As built, it was also a little bit dull.  White tiles, white tiles and white tiles.  Which is fine in a public toilet, but in the throbbing centre of a city's transport system, not so much.

Over the years, Merseytravel have attempted to rectify this situation with some mosaic art in one section, and internationally themed display units provided by a local school at the other end.  It's not bad.  I've never actually covered it in the blog because it's in the Old Hall Street section, and I keep forgetting it's there: my instinct at Moorfields is always to turn left at the top of the escalators and head for the main exit.  Force of habit.

A couple of weeks ago another piece of art was erected in the corridor - the fourth section of the Animate the Underground project.  I have to admit, I wasn't keen on the first part of the scheme; I felt it was a bit twee, and it is definitely in the wrong place.  Putting that painting alongside the sublime Dream Passage is like asking your average bloke to stand next to Russell Tovey; all well and good, but look at what's to the left.  Fortunately the subsequent pieces have been a real improvement - at Lime Street, they liven the drab underpass, and at Hamilton Square the effect in the narrow corridor is brilliant, like entering another world.

The new piece, The Birth of Liverpool, doesn't have the same dreamlike effect as the piece at Hamilton Square, but at least it's not overwhelmed by the rest of the art.  On the contrary it's Birth of Liverpool which draws your eye as you enter the passageway.

The theme here is the city's maritime history.  There's a liner and a lightship, the famous Jesse Hartley clock tower that stands at the entrance to the docks, and the White Star building.

There's also, for reasons I can't quite fathom, Stevenson's Rocket.  Not sure why that's there.  The Overhead Railway's on there too, but at least that used to travel along the docks when it was around - the Rocket never even got a glimpse of the sea.

In the centre is the grand old bird of the Pier Head, the Liver Building.  The Liver Birds are hatching out to stand guard; there are also - sigh - blue and red eggs waiting to open.

And, of course, there's the riddle:

I have NO IDEA.  Not one clue where these things are leading us.  When all is finally revealed with the final poem at Central, I bet I still won't be able to work it out.  It may as well have been written in Swahili.

It's a very good piece; I especially like the way it meshes together, so that each repeated picture flows from the one before.  As a transport buff, I'm pleased to see the trains and boats, a potent reminder of the city's past.  Liverpool's a world class city in so many ways - it should be shouted from the rooftops.

Anyone got any idea about what the fifth mural will show?  It's Liverpool themed, and we've now had football, John Lennon, local artists, and the docks.  What icons are we still missing?  I'm going to take a punt at the two cathedrals.  Your suggestions are gratefully received!

Iconography

Let's see if this works, shall we?  I've had to change blogging software as my old program seems to have gone down the drain.  I've had to download a new one so, hopefully, the weird formatting and spell checks will be a thing of the past.  Possibly.  I'm just trying to avoid using Blogger's very basic online editor.

So anyway: to the fulcrum of my gist.  The third in Grant Searl's Animate the Underground series has been unveiled at Hamilton Square.  This one is called Garden of Icons, and it's the best one yet.

It leaps out on you.  One minute you're walking up the yellow melamine corridor from the platform, surrounded by the usual 70s Merseyrail underground...

...then suddenly you're surrounded by greenery.  It's the best location yet, and makes me wish that James Street's One Life One Love One Liverpool had been similarly sited.  It's much easier to appreciate it when you're right up close, and it breaks up that dull yellow mass.

The theme this time is "Liverpool's icons", and there's a fair few of them in amongst the topiary:

By my count, we've got:

- the Superlambanana;

- a Liver Bird;

- one of Antony Gorman's iron men from Another Place;

- the Yellow Submarine;

- a Diddyman, complete with jam butties;

- one of the Go Penguins;

- E. Chambre Hardman's camera and photos (just off the screen).

I'm not sure who the thin man on top of the bush is; anyone know?  I'm also surprised by the lack of St Helens' Big Giant Head, or Dream, or whatever it's called.

With the new artwork, we also get a new riddle:

I'm no good with riddles.  The Bf and I spent last night debating what it might mean, and we've got no clue.  We'll have to wait until the fifth clue is unveiled for us to get the full picture.  I can't wait now.  The quality of the works is improving every time; Moorfields and Central should be brilliant.

24 Hour Party Person

I crossed the Pier Head and looked up at the glowing white lights of the Ferry Terminal. Deep breaths. Calm. I'm going in.

It's safe to say I'm not a party person. I've had just one birthday party in my life, when I was five. The anxiety of it was so much - I was convinced nobody would turn up - my mum effectively put a stop to them for my own health. And today, as a fully grown adult, I prefer to loiter somewhere at the back, hidden away, generally with a drink or six. Or I just don't go.

"Don't go" was my first instinct when I got the following e-mail:

Dear Friends and Colleagues,

Merseyrail New Year Reception 2011

The Merseyrail management team and I would like to invite you to join us for our annual New Year Reception on Thursday 27th January 2011...

I mean, good God no. A party full of people I don't know? People I respect? Bart Schmeink? What am I going to do there? The Bf intervened at this point, however, and practically forced me to accept. "It'll be good for you," he said. And, after just the one panic attack, and doped up on my anti-depressants, I was walking through the door into the party and accepting a champagne cocktail and thinking, "how bad could it be?".

The invite had promised "entertainment". I wasn't sure what that would be. My only knowledge of corporate entertainment comes from Showgirls, where Nomi dances on top of a boat in a sparkly dress and then gets sexually harassed by a sleazy Asian businessman. Merseyrail have a different concept of the term; they had pupils from the Archbishop Beck Catholic High School playing the Theme from the Muppet Show on a trumpet. Hopefully none of them were molested by a skeezy man in a suit later in the evening.

I did a couple of rounds of Matou, clutching a Jack Daniels and Coke, before I found a suitably tucked away corner and installed myself there. I was almost instantly leapt upon by two men, who turned out to be Rudi and Matt; the publicity mavens of Merseyrail. That's the problem with sticking your face all over your blog - people tend to recognise you. They were really nice, however, welcoming me to the party, offering to get me a drink, and not mentioning the fact that I was turning bright crimson throughout.

After a little chat, I went on another wander, and I found a seat at the back of the restaurant. Great. I could relax a bit. Which is when another man turned up and said, "Excuse me. Are you the Merseytart?"

Suddenly I wished I'd chosen a less daft name.

This guy turned out to be Ian from Merseytravel, who again had read my blog. "When are you going to finish it?" he asked, leading me to bluster about "enjoying it too much", which is a polite way of saying, "no idea". Ian then called over his colleague, Emma, who's responsible for the Art on the Network programme. I was reminded of a quote I read the other day, about blogging being all power and no responsibility, when she said "I understand you're not keen on the Grant Searl artwork?"

I managed to hold my own, I think, and I said that I really didn't like its positioning on Platform 2 - it competes and fights with Dream Passage. I did also say that I loved the other artwork, and the whole Art on the Network programme in general. Ian also explained about the riddles, hidden inside each painting; when all five are complete, the answer to the riddle will become clear. He said the actual solution is inside a safe at Merseytravel HQ right now, and I made a mental note to break out my leather all in one catsuit and burglars tools when I got home.

As we were talking, the speeches began, but sadly I was too far away to hear any of them, so I went out on the balcony for a bit of air. When they built the new Ferry Terminal, I remember thinking it was the wrong way round; the balcony was at the back, not overlooking the river. When I was up there though, I suddenly understood it. Firstly, there was hardly any wind, despite it being a blustery January night - the main block of Matou shielded it perfectly. Secondly, the view was beautiful. The three buildings of the Pier Head, high above me, glowing in the light (well, two of them were; the Cunard Building's currently covered in sheeting). It was awe-inspiring.

The speeches had all finished by the time I got inside, and a comedian was up there, telling jokes I couldn't hear instead. At that point, someone else introduced themselves to me. "Hello, I'm Mark. I'm the man responsible for the square loop on the map."

I don't know what went through my head at that moment, but I'm sure the word bollocks was in there somewhere. I wanted to just crawl away and die.

Fortunately, Mark was a very nice bloke, and he explained the rationale behind the square: there's a surfeit of tourists getting on at Lime Street, thinking they can go round and round the loop, and ending up in Birkenhead. The square was his initial suggestion as a way of making it clearer, but as he said, he's an engineer and he planned it out on Excel; he assumed the design team would make it look great. Instead, they just shoved a square on the map. He wasn't happy with it. Phew. Plus he's the man responsible for the line diagrams that are all over the place, which I love.

We had a good old chat, actually, about different design standards for the network, and the influence of Harry Beck's Underground diagram. I recommended he get Mark Ovenden's Metro Maps of the World, and actually I'd recommend it to anyone - it's a great read, and not too geeky.

Rudi came over again, and said he liked the blog, then Matt asked me how I felt about being mentioned in Bart's speech?

"Eh?" I replied. Yup, apparently, HRH Bart Schmeink had actually told the room that I was there, but I hadn't heard it because I was at the back. Thank God, is all I can say, because I probably would have become the first person to cringe themself to death otherwise.

And then I was recognised again, by Steve, who manages the guards on the Wirral Line. I was actually starting to enjoy it, like the big old fame whore I am. It was nice to have other people making the effort to talk to me, because otherwise I'd just have hidden away and been silent all evening, and everyone was very complimentary about my blog. It was also nice that people seemed to read the blog for its entertainment value, not just in case I said something rude about Merseyrail. Steve and I had a chat, and he introduced me to Natalie, who's a newly appointed internet wiz; we talked about how she wants to really increase the web presence, and embrace social networks, and all sorts of exciting sounding things.

It was getting towards eight o'clock, and the party was thinning out, and I had to go home and get some dinner. There was lots of lovely looking finger food on display, but my tense stomach had twisted itself into a figure eight and there was no way I'd be able to swallow food. I just had one more thing to do: meet Bart Schmeink.

For the first time that evening, I went up to someone and introduced myself. And he recognised me! Really, by this point, I was starting to feel like Angelina Jolie, but without the breasts. Or Brad Pitt, unfortunately. What followed was a bit of a mutual appreciation society - we both said nice things about one another, we had a bit of a talk, he offered to buy me a drink - it was all very pleasant. And then he gave me his card, which was a silly move on his part. It's a bit like From Russia With Love, where Bond unknowingly invites Grant into his cabin on the Orient Express - he seems nice, but he's actually a raging nutcase underneath. (Please note: I'm the stalking nutcase in this scenario).

Well, nothing could match up to that, so I made a swift exit, behind two ladies. One of them turned to me and said, "I hope you're going to write nice things about us!" and I burbled some kind of reply through my blushes.

When I got outside, and I was halfway across the Pier Head, I just stopped and laughed. Really laughed. It was one of the strangest nights of my life but I'm glad it happened. I can't say I've overcome my party fears, but heck, I had a good time. That's something at least. Thanks to Merseyrail for the invite, and for being so nice. You didn't have to but you did, and you just went up about twenty notches in my estimation. (Yes, I'm that easily bought).

Here, There and Everywhere

Last week I talked about the new piece of art at James Street station, the first of five commissions by Grant Searl. As I was passing from Lime Street Underground to the main line station en route to Widnes, I figured I could get a look at the second piece, The Madness of King John.

The good news is it's better than One Love One Life One Liverpool. The surrealistic imagery is much bolder here, with its clear and wittily executed homages to Magritte. It's a much more interesting piece as well, with plenty to take in - probably because it's sited in the Lime Street subway, so people have time to stop and get a closer look.

It stretches the length of the subway, subdivided by smaller portions and writings from the artist:

You could probably while away a good half an hour spotting all the allusions. If you could stand listening to a busker the whole time.

My biggest problem with it is John Lennon. Not him personally, but the fact that he's the subject. Again. Liverpool's rightly proud of its Beatles heritage, and it brings in a lot of visitors and a lot of money, but the city's moved on. Can't we just restrict it to the Beatles Story and the Cavern Quarter? It's all a bit tedious now and I don't think it presents such a great image to people who aren't in Liverpool for the Beatles - businessmen, day trippers, shoppers. It runs the risk of being "bloody hell, John Lennon again?" (And poor old Paul, George and Ringo, incidentally).

If there was going to be a tribute to Liverpool's musical heritage, how about all of it? How about a piece of work that interwove Billy Fury and Frankie Goes To Hollywood with Sir Simon Rattle and John Peel? How about a painting depicting OMD linking arms with The Coral, while Heidi from the Sugababes waved them on from the sidelines? Why not an Atomic Kitten triptych? Ok, maybe not that last one.

Wheeling Lennon out again feels regressive, predictable, dull. No matter how good Searl's work is - and his style is far better suited to this than the James Street piece - it's a bit Liverpool by numbers. It also makes me wonder what the last three pictures will be. We've already had "football" and "the Beatles"; perhaps Moorfields will soon be graced by a painting of Terry and Barry from Brookside stealing someone's hubcaps, just to continue the theme of Liverpool cliches. I'd like to see something a bit more rounded and defiantly Scouse. A piece of art that really inspired and made you think of Liverpool in a different way.

Painting By Numbers

It's a well documented fact that I love Merseytravel's Art on the Network programme. Just click the "art" tag on the right; you'll find a series of love letters to the various bits of art that have sprung up all over the system. To me this is a really good way to enrich the local area - the station environments are enhanced and artists are funded and commissioned by a big company. Win-win.

So far, there have been sculptures, paintings and word poems, and they've all rang my bell, so to speak. Stephen Hitchin's Time and Place at Birkenhead Park makes me smile every time I see it.

The newest series from Merseytravel is entitled "Animate the Underground" and is a series of five paintings - one for each of the underground stations - by the artist Grant Searl. The first, One Life One Love One Liverpool, went up in James Street last November, but I only got a chance to have a proper look at it today.

Now obviously, art is subjective, and one man's masterpiece is another man's toilet paper. But my immediate reaction is - urgh. I really, really don't like it.

Full disclosure - I hate football, so the topic of one city united by a love of the Reds and the Blues is not my cup of tea anyway. It's hard for me to engage with the subject. But leaving that aside, I can't help feeling that the work is just not very good. It looks like a greeting card, with the sickly green airbrushing and the hearts. It doesn't inspire or delight me in any way. It just sits there.

It's made worse by its positioning. Merseytravel have sited it on the disused platform 2 at James Street - alongside Chalk & Grime's Dream Passage. Now THAT is a great, beautiful piece of artwork, which is still as interesting and as unusual today as it was when it was installed twenty years ago. Beside that piece of intriguing art, One Life One Love One Liverpool looks trite and unimaginative. It should have been sited somewhere else - perhaps by the elevators, or in the ticket hall, or basically anywhere else. It just doesn't work on that platform. I might like it more if it were in isolation rather than detracting from Dream Passage.

Grant Searl has four more pieces to come; one has already been installed at Lime Street Underground. These might be more to my taste, as the other stations don't have artwork and could do with brightening up a bit. I should note that the Lime Street one is based around John Lennon though, which makes my heart sink some more. It's another unimaginative commission.

The results of the Art on the Network competition still haven't been announced, so there's still hope there. I still think Merseytravel's public arts policy is a wonderful thing. I guess they just can't please me all the time.