Visiting Brussels…

Illustration by the delightfully talented Josephine.

At an excellent Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) women’s event last night (review to follow) I was telling my friends about going to a conference in Brussels last week. I loved Brussels and had a great time but based on what I told them about the trip the ‘other’ Antoinette was not impressed. I left with the following scribbled on a bit of paper and promised I would share it on our blog as a warning to you all.

5 top reasons not to go to Brussels, by guest blogger the ‘other’ Antoinette.

1.They burn your hand with molten waffle sugar
2.They won’t let you through security with camembert
3.They suggest, as an alternative, you go and eat the whole camembert quickly and come back to security
4.They don’t provide crackers, pickle or even a plate to let you do this
5.They fill you up with excellent conference food [and waffles] before the airport so you don’t even want to eat the camembert

Standing on the shoulders of Giants

As April’s Titanic anniversary drew nearer, I was pretty excited about the prospect of French street theatre specialists Royal de Luxe bringing a new production to Liverpool. A rival company, La Machine (also based in Nantes) brought the giant spider ‘La Princesse’ to the City in 2008 as part of the Capital of Culture programme. Four years on, some things have changed in the city but some things stay the same and it seems the appetite for large-scale public events remains as insatiable as ever.

A week before the Sea Odyssey – Giant Spectacular event, I was working at the Grand National and missed a call that would have landed me a place working with Royal de Luxe. I was pretty disappointed but then a few days later there was a second call and I was asked to get to the secret rehearsal venue asap, to replace someone who left the team. Soon I found myself at Bramley-Moore Dock (near the colossal Tobacco Warehouse), putting on a hi-vis jacket, hard hat and facing two huge marionettes and a giant dog. This was set to become, at the very least, a unique experience.

One thing that became apparent after a few hours working at the Site was the confusing mix of French and local crews, the language barrier and the tensions of two different groups thrown together. The Royal de Luxe team, who it turns out are mostly French but also include several other nationalities, are a tight knit group who have travelled round the world together. With a disparate group of temporary local workers coming into that environment, some problems were bound to arise. However, with patience, a bit of effort trying some broken French and plenty of sign language, the barriers quickly broke down.

Tuesday before the event was my first full day on the job and some of the stories I was told of chaotic organisation, lack of communication, long periods of inactivity became apparent and could easily have become frustrating. The key was to appreciate that the Giant Spectacular was (albeit on a massive scale) street theatre. Theatre takes time, it’s not always a simple task, it can’t be judged as a standard enterprise. It is, rightly so, a fluid rather than a transactional process. Throw in various mechanical and remote controlled systems and staging the event becomes very complicated indeed. It was clear that a lot of patience was required on all sides. Once we relaxed a little, the frequent changes of pace and demands of rehearsal became much easier.

I was part of the team operating Xolo, the dog that was to accompany the Little Girl Giant throughout the weekend. The Uncle (larger) Giant had a distinct team and throughout the rehearsals we didn’t really interact much. However, the crews of the Girl Giant and Xolo working alongside each other was perfect and it felt like we had the more interesting tasks. The Uncle has impact because of his sheer size (standing at around 50 foot high). By contrast it felt that the impact of the Girl and Dog was in their interaction, in the variety of actions they could perform and a greater subtlety of expressions.

The interaction was sometimes hard to see fully in rehearsal but over the weekend it became joyfully apparent. It was fantastic to see Xolo approaching children in the crowd and at one point carrying a girl on his back. Similarly, the Girl Giant had children swinging from her arms at various points along the route and perhaps spectacularly of all, danced high in the air at Kings Dock on Saturday and Sunday. The separation of the Giants was interesting to experience from a workers point of view but when all three came together, it felt very special. When they met and the Girl found her Uncle on Saturday evening, the reunion was a genuinely emotional experience. From various accounts, it seems to have had an impact on the crowds but the same was definitely felt by many on the crew. Talking with some friends on the team, we all said it was a bit strange to have an emotional response – we know they are giant marionettes made of wood and metal – but it can become hard not to invest, or rather project emotions, into the performance.

My main task over the weekend was to walk behind Xolo, guiding the rig when it reversed and making sure the crowds stepped back when we turned around. In some places this was pretty simple but it became very challenging in tight spots. However, my position did give me the oppourtunity to observe the crowds and see their reactions up close. Before the performance began I wasn’t quite sure what to expect or how well we would be received, but from the start of the event on Friday the reactions were universally positive.

The crowds in Stanley Park, right the way through to Everton Brow exceeded my expectations and were amazing to see. I quickly heard words and congratulations which would recur throughout the three days: ‘Brilliant’, ‘Fantastic’, ‘Incredible’, ‘Well done!’ or just ‘Wow’ plus a spattering of ‘Bravo les Francais!’. I shook some hands, was patted on the back along the way. Although I only played a small part in the whole event I felt incredibly proud of what the team was doing together. Later, as we moved down into town and eventually to St George’s Plateau, the crowds and reception there took my breath away. As Xolo and the team rode along Lime Street, we were greeted by a sea of people all around. Further on in the city centre people on the streets were joined by those peering out of windows and from balconies of flats, offices, shops and pubs, eager to experience the spectacle as we made our way past. It felt that we were part of a fantastic shared experience.

The nature of shared experience is one of the most interesting aspects of the Giant Spectacular, as with any large-scale public performance. One feature that those I worked with talked about and local commentators noted was the number of people taking photos and video, sharing their recordings, updating social networks. All along the route I would say at least 75% of people were recording what they saw. Maybe half on phones and half on cameras but also a significant number of people using iPads and other tablets. The use of tablets is what stood out the most and just looked impractical. Though it didn’t spoil my experience, I don’t think I would have been happy to stand behind someone using one.

For me it has sparked an examination of why we are so keen to take so many photos. At what point does taking photos to remember and share the experience tip over into only experiencing the event through a screen, whether that be a viewfinder or a 9 x 7” iPad display? Adverts for the ‘New iPad’ boast about the quality of its display, suggesting it ‘helps you connect better with the things you love’, but surely even with the best display available, it will never substitute for the reality of what is looming large in front of you. Why view the event through your giant screen when you can see the giants for real and unfiltered? Some theories on use of cameras to record experiences suggest it enhances the event but to my mind over use can reduce the experience and dampen the enjoyment.

Although tired by the end of the weekend, and slightly wet after a few showers, our enjoyment was anything but diminished. Sunday’s finale proved a fitting ending and cemented memories of a truly amazing experience. All three giants strolled along The Strand, with Xolo the dog running in front, then back and around amongst the parade. The procession was punctuated regularly with the clash of giant cymbals and the blast of a mail cannon firing confetti and hand-written letters into the air and down onto the crowd. One of the Royal de Luxe company had died suddenly just before the production came to Liverpool and I later found out that some of his ashes had been mixed in with the confetti, postcards and letters blown triumphantly into the air. Perhaps a fitting tribute to someone who had helped bring the performance to life.

At midday, the Giants moved to a ship waiting in Canning Dock. Amongst mist and to the sound of foghorns they sailed away, into the River and we waved goodbye. For the estimated half a million people who visited the City over the weekend, it will hopefully be an event to remember for many years. For those who worked on the team, it was one incredible experience. On Sunday night we celebrated with Champagne, then Pernod and many other drinks. It felt as though we had been welcomed into a crazy but loveable family for a week our lives and hopefully at some point in the future we may get to experience it all over again. As was shouted many times on the streets, Bravo les Francais!

Spire Restaurant, Allerton.

Sea bass with artichoke puree, potato pearls, peas, carrots and white wine sauce

A couple of weeks ago I was lucky enough to visit Spire twice in 5 days. The Monday night was our anniversary so we celebrated with the incredibly good value two courses for £14.95. Then the following Friday my mother came to stay and I had been going on about Spire so much she demanded to try it. Don’t worry though, I’ll only focus on the Monday night experience otherwise this could turn into a nine million word review with details of ten different dishes!

Prior to that week I had only been to this little restaurant off Allerton Road in Liverpool once before and I was worried it would not live up to the excellent experience of our first trip in January.

Walking in I was again a bit disappointed; the decor is a bit dull (polystyrene ceiling tiles?) and there doesn’t seem to be much atmosphere. However, I can totally forgive this as the food makes up for any shortcoming in the venue. Given that the set menu is so reasonable (mains on the a la carte are usually around £15-£20) the quality is exceptional. The meal started with acute five inch diameter focaccia which was sweet, soft and warm with a crispy top. It comes with butter and a deliciously fresh basil oil that I could happily eat with a spoon.

For starters I had a piece of wonderfully soft slow-cooked pork fried in crisp breadcrumbs. It came with a delicious sweet apple puree and lovely earthy mushrooms that added a great umani element. My lady friend had a salad. The crisp saltiness of the grilled halloumi was a great contrast to the sweet pomegranate seeds and a really rich, garlicky (but somehow not overpowering) dressing and crisp romaine lettuce made it into a more exciting version of a caesar salad.

For main course we both had sea bass with artichoke puree, potato pearls, peas, carrots and white wine sauce (pictured). It was £3 supplement but worth every penny and definitely the star of the meal. The fish was perfectly cooked with crispy skin that worked to enhance the ‘fishiness’. The sauce was smooth, creamy and sweet and the peas were delicious (which is a bold statement for me as I usually find them an incredibly dull vegetable) The potato pearls were very pleasing and soft but still perfectly round. The dish was topped with shredded radish and microleaves which added a great fresh element and cut through the rich sauce. Overall incredibly satisfying and I could happily have eaten two.

For pudding we shared an apple tarte tatin which was rich and sweet with a crisp base and generous chunks of apple. It was sat in a vanilla sauce and vanilla ice cream. The house Chilean Sauvignon Blanc is good and great value at only £15. Our total bill came to £50 which I think is almost a steal for food of this quality.

The second time I visited that week the stand out dishes werea rhubarb sorbet and the duck and the chicken liver parfaits (bothpure joy and better than any parfait I’ve had in France – they feel like they have been whipped for hours and are probably about 40% butter). After dinner we each had a glass of Californian Black Muscat which was such a revelation we ordered a second glass each and tracked down a bottle at Scratchards Wine Merchants the next morning. I don’t usually get enthusiastic about dessert wine but this was like damson gin, but smoother, fruitier and incredibly drinkable. The bottle in my fridge is already half empty.

I like Spire, I really like Spire. It is such a refreshing restaurant that serves good quality, exciting and reasonably priced food. It is doesn’t feel pretentious or add £10 to each main just for the name above the door. Being out of town seems to keep the prices down and it is better than all the chain restaurants in town that serve unexciting food for the same price. I have now been three times and only once have I had a less than perfect dish (a trio of fish that was a bit overcooked). This restaurant is small, feels personal and the service is friendly.

In fact, I have decided I love Spire and I am officially declaring it my favourite restaurant in Liverpool. We’ll have dinner there for my birthday I think fellow Picklers (do you mind if I call you that…?)
Number One, Church Road, Liverpool L15 9EA.

Making time for the important stuff in life

Who among us can honestly say we have never experienced stress and frustration at our own procrastination?

Maybe we want to do more with our evenings and weekends, like pick up that dusty guitar that’s been sitting lonely in the corner, or learn a second language, or finally do something about the fact that “there’s a novel inside me, if only I got around to writing it!”.

Ever had to stay late in the office, or bring home work at the weekend because you’d spent ages procrastinating or staring blankly at the screen, not getting anything done?  Or maybe you find yourself putting off the important things on your to do list because you don’t know where to start, and its easier to keep yourself busy with plenty of tiny and completely irrelevant errands, just so you can tick something off the to do list and gain that all-important sense of achievement.

Here are some simple techniques for getting the work stuff done faster, and freeing up time to attend to your inner guitar hero / budding author / *insert your own aspiration here!

Puree some tomatoes

Created by Francesco Cirillo, the Pomodoro Technique is a productivity technique centred around the use of a kitchen timer (as any pizza-lover will know, “pomodoro” is Italian for tomato, and the technique was originally created using a tomato-shaped kitchen timer).

To start, you set yourself a clear goal of what you want to achieve, set a timer for 25 minutes (equal to one ‘pomodoro’) and focus on the task in hand.  When the buzzer goes off, you get a five minute break before your next 25 minute session.  After four ‘pomodoros’, you are rewarded with a longer break.

The technique also encourages you to become more aware of internal and external distractions and to resist them.  And it really works!  It is so much easier to resist checking email or Facebook constantly when you are able to tell yourself there is only 12 minutes (or whatever) until your next break.

Virtually every friend I’ve introduced this technique to in the past year has fallen in love with it.  Try it out one morning – and you’re likely to enjoy one of the most productive days you’ve ever experienced.

Detailed instructions are available on the Pomodoro Technique website.


Eat a frog

Brian Tracy’s book “Eat that Frog” encourages us to do just that – eat a ‘frog’ every morning.  The frog metaphor refers to the difficult or unappealing tasks we’ve been putting off.  We all have those, right?

The book’s philosophy is based around the saying that “if the first thing you do in the morning is to eat a live frog, you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that it’s probably the worst thing you’ll do all day”.

Tracy urges us to think critically about our goals are, how to prioritise them, and to set deadlines.  Essentially, by eating the ‘frog’ task first thing, we’re freed up from the stress and anxiety caused by the anticipation of having to tackle it.  We get the ‘worst’ jobs out of the way and prioritise the things that will actually make the biggest impact on our lives.  Rather than filling up time with insignificant but easy tasks, we use our limited time more wisely, making progress with the things that will help us move forward and achieve things in life that are really important to us.


Let me know how you get on with either of these techniques, and share any other tips for making time for what’s important in life.

Lindsey is in her final year of a Sociology PhD – essentially a four-year lesson in overcoming procrastination and getting lots done!


Original art by Josephine Scales



Photos by

The Museum of Liverpool Without Life

The Beaubourg Effect

Jean Baudrillard devotes a chapter of his text Simulacra and Simulation to a phenomenon he dubs the Beaubourg Effect. Baudrillard maintains that the mass-media spectacle of The Pompidou Centre (the largest museum for modern art in Europe, located in Beaubourg, Paris), exerts such an aggressive influence on culture, that it destroys it. Rather than to display artworks, the purpose of the centre is to impose an idea of western culture… to shape western society’s culture and identity.

He further describes Beaubourg as ‘an incinerator, absorbing cultural energy and devouring it’ and ‘a machine for creating emptiness’. He uses the analogy of a black hole to convey its effect. Formed when a star’s gravity becomes so great that even light cannot escape, a black hole implodes under the strain of it’s own mass, constantly falling in on itself. It continues to grow by absorbing additional matter. This is the primary process through which supermassive black holes seem to have grown. The Pompidou Centre is a black hole, a self-reinforcing machine with a cultural gravity so strong that it widely shapes western culture. The Centre continuously absorbs the culture it has shaped, continuously imploding under the weight of it’s own significance.

Baudrillard concludes that although the French government designed the Centre to make modern art accessible to the general populace, it instead neutralises and domesticates the creative and political power of modern art itself.

The Pompidou Centre

The Neutralising of Art at The New National Gallery, Berlin

I recently visited the New National Gallery (Neues Nationalgalerie) in Berlin. During my visit I heard many loud alarms from various corners of the gallery. I quickly realised by looking ‘too closely’ at one painting, that a visitor will trigger the alarm from as much as 2 feet away. This leads to a vaguely uneasy feeling, not from public chastisement, as alarms are seemingly triggered by almost every visitor. Reflecting on my experience later, I came to realise that an effort was being made to discourage visitors from showing too much interest in the artwork. Visitors should maintain a distance from the works, literally and figuratively. This policy appeared so at odds with the supposed purpose of the building, that it didn’t seem to make sense.

The gallery’s ‘Divided Heaven’ exhibition used the political standpoints of artists such as Otto Dix or George Grosz as curatorial themes and yet it was hard to see how the gallery could value their political ideas beyond their function as a curatorial device. The political ideas in their work were so contrary to the feel of the building, that it didn’t seem possible the Gallery valued the artistic component of the work. As a result the intention of the art is either completely lost or devalued. The gallery destroys or neutralises the creative and political power of the art. It’s hard not to imagine this as a victory of capitalism over the ideals of the artists. How can the owner value this work, other than by price-tag? The screech of the alarm serves as a continuous reminder of who’s art it is. The exaggerated distance emphasises the price-tag and actively discourages the visitor from interacting emotionally with the artworks. All the while playing in the background to this exhibition was a tape loop of The Beatles ‘All You Need is Love’… apparently it isn’t.

Museum of Liverpool, a Wikipedia Entry Made Flesh

So what about the Museum of Liverpool? The authenticity of artefacts doesn’t compare to The New National Gallery. ‘Impressionistic displays of the city’s history and culture – the Beatles (of course), football, Brookside, trade, wealth and poverty – that are light on original artefacts and big on videos and blown-up pictures.’ Perhaps most damningly The Guardian described the exhibition as ‘a Wikipedia entry made flesh, a warm gloop of unchallenging information’. During the 30 year interlude between construction of The Pompidou Centre and The Museum of Liverpool, it is apparent that a steady process of implosion has resulted in Wikification and that self-referencing artefact-lite Wikibitions have become acceptable. Heavily edited second-generation assumptions take the place of cultural objects. Meaning is pre-analysed, summarised and spoon-fed. This must surely accelerate the shaping of culture and the neutralising of artistic and cultural energy.

The Museum of Liverpool claims to tell the story of Liverpool. At least the museum’s own website steers clear of any direct claims to show you the real Liverpool. Perhaps that is not going far enough. The effect of building a Museum of Liverpool is to destroy the very culture it is exhibiting. Where in Liverpool can one now best experience Liverpool- On the streets or in the Museum? If the museum has any ambition at all, then it stands that it must be striving to show people a definitive Liverpool. This concept of Liverpool does not lie outside the Museum except in the world of marketing and ‘nation branding’ yet simultaneously this concept is the prevailing concept of Liverpool.

What constitutes Liverpool has never before been the decision of curators. There has never before been a prevailing idea of authentic Liverpool culture, stated in absolute terms and packaged within a box. There must have been so much cast aside.

The launch of the museum was a bizarre event. Like the reveal at the end of ’10 Years Younger’. Liverpool faced the cameras and said “I can’t wait to see the real me”. Then went out on the streets only to find the public didn’t dig their shiny veneers or hair extensions…The Guardian review called it a ‘godawful mess’ that ‘fails to complement the city’s proud past’. Local reactions to the negative reviews were subdued and seemed to grudgingly nod in agreement, a sort of “you don’t like my new haircut? We’ll that’s a bit rude of you to say, but then I don’t really like it much either”. In an unexpected show of sympathy, Liverpool was not blamed for the poor taste of their makeover experts and seems fairly reluctant to embrace the museum itself. It’s easy to see how a museum ‘light on original artefacts and big on videos and blown-up pictures’ is easier to reject.

Like the artworks at odds with New National Gallery, Berlin, you cannot escape the idea that perhaps the Liverpool artefacts sit awkwardly within the ‘wow factor’ architecture. The objects appear ridiculous in comparison… How can you take a genuinely remarkable chip shop counter (saved from the rubbish dump) seriously, when it’s framed by this £72M attempt at ‘starchitecture’.

Starchitecture & The Bilbao Effect

The construction of the Bilbao Guggenheim (by Starchitect Frank Gehry) in 1997, transformed the fortunes of Bilbao, increasing the annual number of tourist visitors 20 fold, resulting in an annual tourism GDP of €300M for the Biscay region. As New York Times’ Denny Lee states, Bilbao is now ‘synonymous with the ensuing worldwide rush by urbanists to erect trophy buildings, in the hopes of turning second-tier cities into tourist magnets.’ The Bilbao Effect is now a textbook method for repackage cities using “wow-factor” ‘starchitecture’.

The capitalist effect of the building is clear. Less apparent is the effect that the Guggenheim has had on the culture of Bilbao itself. “We don’t know anything about Bilbao besides the Guggenheim,” said Luigi Fattore, 28, a financial analyst from Paris “We’ve arrived half an hour ago and went straight to the Guggenheim. Aside from the museum, we don’t have any plans.” The city has been cleaned of soot and graffiti and is sprouting starchitectural buds in the form of new buildings by Álvaro Siza, Cesar Pelli, Santiago Calatrava, Zaha Hadid, Philippe Starck amongst others. A town of steelworkers and engineers, is slowly becoming a ‘city of hotel clerks and art collectors’. The Bilbao Effect is The Beaubourg Effect. The city’s culture absorbed and reshaped by the Guggenheim.

The Riverside Museum, Glasgow

Starchitecture and Riverside Museum, Glasgow

The Guardian review of the Riverside Museum, Glasgow (Starchitect Zaha Hadid) contrasts starkly with that of the Museum of Liverpool. Perhaps a surprise when these 2 projects were executed with similar timeframes and had similar grand architectural visions. The content of Riverside Museum is somewhat more traditional and exhaustive: ‘trams, cars, locomotives, motorbikes, a tube train, a glider, ships, skateboards, prams, shoes and, well, pretty much anything that ever helped Glaswegians to move about.’ This is an exhibition heavy with original artefacts, not so big on videos and blown-up pictures.

Whereas Museum of Liverpool is labelled ‘a restless squiggle’, Riverside ‘blends into the climate and culture of Glasgow and its riverscape, feeling like part of its great flow of architecture and history’ …’Seen from inside, those zigzags look like the keels of ships’. Kim Nielsen one of the chief architects of Museum of Liverpool stated that his “initial idea was to make a very open, very friendly structure. Our idea was that our structure should grow up from the promenade and connect to the canal and connect to the landscape… more like a piece of land art ” Nomination of the building to the Carbuncle Cup 2011 shortlist is a strong indication that the idea has failed to be realised!

I would argue that the building contains several design elements that knowingly nod to the Beaubourg Effect.

The Building Design

Baudrillard amusingly compares the Pompidou Centre to a nuclear power station, requiring a perimeter of control and deterrence ‘All around, the neighbourhood is nothing but a protective zone – remodelling, disinfection’. Walking towards the Museum of Liverpool, visitors experience a strange air of isolation. The museum sits completely separate from the surrounding area and is, in fact, surrounded on 3 sides by water. Indeed like all UK nuclear power stations, the museum is built next to the sea.

Footprint of The Museum of Liverpool

Continuing with Baudrillard’s cultural incinerator analogy, is it by accident or pure satire that Architects 3XN, designed a museum with a footprint that resembles a turbine blade rotating around a central point? Even worse, viewed window on, the building resembles the air intake of a concord engine. This is a really effective visual metaphor for the machine which absorbs and devours all the cultural energy.

Concord Air Intake

Museum of Liverpool

This recurring theme goes even further, also incorporating the black hole analogy into the design. The very heart of the building is a swirling vortex, the singularity within the black hole, emphasised by a central skylight above a space dubbed “public living room” by the designers. How can this possibly be a mistake? At night, light even pours from the central skylight, mimicking the Relativistic Jets of black holes- The building is an incredibly successful metaphor for the intended shaping effect that the building will have on Liverpool’s culture and identity.

Black Hole with Relativistic Jets

Museum of Liverpool Public Living Room

These design elements are not mistakes. The funnel like projections are capped with 8 by 28 metre picture windows, designed (according to the museum website) to offer ‘striking views of the city’… Actually, interior views of the city are incredibly restricted and feel intentionally so. Additional lighting from other skylights is hidden or downplayed. This design emphasises the inward flow of light, symbolising the inward flow of culture as it is absorbed by the space.

Dead Vs Living Museums

It is unusual to have a museum which contains a high proportion of contemporary objects and even higher proportion of Wikibitions. Usually museums contain objects either from a distant age or a far away place. Museums emphasise their importance by containing objects that are rarely be seen anywhere else (for example, the Berlin Naturkundemuseum uses it’s reference specimen of ‘first bird’ Archaeopteryx heavily in it’s promotional material). You can only visit Cheops Pyramid in Egypt (and Las Vegas, the most successful cultural vacuum). Many of artefacts within the Museum of Liverpool are not rare items, but mass produced contemporary objects. Museums traditionally contain rows of glass cabinets which display dead things.

Living museums like Blists Hill Victorian Town in Shropshire and Weald and Downland Open Air Museum in Sussex became popular in the 1970s and 80s. They reconstruct particular time periods and are staffed by demonstrators. In some museums, demonstrators talk in the third person, referring to the historical subjects as “they” or “them” (rather than in the first person “I” or “we”, believing that this allows visitors to more effectively compare modern techniques with those re-enacted at the museum. Other museums employ costumes, period speech, and character impersonations while performing the daily tasks and crafts of the period, in an attempt to transport visitors to another age. These museums have found particular popularity in the United States and Canada and in some cases portray gross inaccuracies in an attempt to create a certain idealised image. Wichita’s Old Cowtown Museum has been heavily criticised for using historically inaccurate replicas and building a romanticised Wild West movie set influenced by Hollywood. Living history has been summed up as “antiquarian, idyllic, or downright misleading.” The entertainment value of content is prized above and beyond it’s meaning.

It has been claimed that the purposes of many idealised living museums in the UK are celebrate the Churchillian fantasy of a Great Britain which closely resembles the spirit and values of Ancient Greece. A romantic idea of Great Britain formulated during bleak times. (see Adam Curtis documentary, The Living Dead). Unlike living museums in USA and Canada, the idealised image is based around portrayal of British people as noble, steadfast and pure of spirit.

Some museums present a grittier image, the purposes of which are apparently to make us shudder and thank God we are living today. Despite their less idealised image, such museums are still criticised for considerable inaccuracies within their content. Jorvik Viking Centre (which does not call itself as a museum) has been criticised for its “disney-like” presentation of the past and making the satisfaction of visitor expectations paramount.

The Joy of Simulation

A certain amount of reality, however, appears to be too much. An article in Seven Streets describes the introduction and subsequent removal of simulated smells in a reconstruction of The Cavern Club as part of The Beatles Story (which does not call itself a museum). ‘The Beatles Story opted to remove the smells some years back. Recreating the authentic claustrophobia of the Cavern is one thing. Pumping in a cylinder full of Eau d’Rotten Cabbage is quite another.’ Visitors do not want to experience reality in a museum. The cavern installation was too accurate, contained too much of the real for the visitor, giving them a less romantic false memory of a place they’d never know.

A chief purpose of such museums is to provide a visitor an experience of a filtered and sanitised history. The staff of demonstrators have freshly showered, brushed teeth and applied make-up before coming to work. They provide an amputated and disfigured simulation, free of amputation and disfigurement.

A living museum within Liverpool, of a contemporary Liverpool, is a step too far… A living, breathing parody, a mocking piss-take for the benefit of new city-dwellers and short term tourists alike. The Neanderthal Man waxwork in a diorama, reborn as a scouser to sneer and laugh at, would be too provocative. Inaccuracies that rely on ignorance would be all too embarrassingly apparent. Hence the videos and blown-up pictures. Absorbed, then cropped and edited to fit their distilled and purified notion of a culture.

The Museum of Liverpool Without Life

Is it by mere coincidence that when it moved, the title ‘Museum of Liverpool Life’ was changed to ‘Museum of Liverpool’? The Museum of Liverpool Life closed in June 2006. The Museum of Liverpool opened on 19 July 2011. What happened in this brief period? Did Liverpool die? I would argue that during this period the culture of Liverpool was solidified as a commodity.

The twin events of the 800 year anniversary (2007) and European Capital of Culture (2008) were unprecedented exercises in reflection for the city. Huge focus-grouped exercises aimed to pin down what Liverpool ‘is’. A post-mortem which distilled only the city’s most prominent creative and artistic output, only the city’s most prominent personality traits. These exercises had a huge influence on the curation of the museum. The EU’s stated purpose of Capital of Culture is primarily to ‘highlight the richness and diversity of European cultures’ but as a result of such determined analysis, the richness and diversity of Liverpool’s culture has been grossly simplified. Even with the most narrow research it’s still no surprise that the museum struggles to deal with contradictions.

The EU website continues, ‘studies have shown that the event is a valuable opportunity to regenerate cities and raise their international profile and enhance their image in the eyes of their own inhabitants’. Perhaps the goal of the Museum of Liverpool is not to celebrate the city, but to draw a line in the sand. Governments have been accused of using the term regeneration as a euphemism for ‘class-cleansing’ highlighted in Owen Hatherley’s article on the Urban Splash regeneration of Park Hill, Sheffield. Is the aim for the museum to be the execution ground and final resting place for Liverpool culture? Perhaps the Museum of Liverpool not only resembles a black hole, but also a tomb. The choice of facade (Jura Stone) is a building material regularly used for tombstones and mausolea. If so, then the building is a satirical Tour de Force. A memorial to Liverpool culture and a memorial to itself. A joyous celebration of the Beaubourg Effect made flesh.

The Capital Without the Culture

There are 2 places in contemporary culture where objects are displayed in the same manner as artefacts are displayed in a museum. Shops and Expos. Expos are vehicles for ‘nation branding’. Both environments exist ultimately for the generation for capital.

Addressing the Problems

The failure of the Museum of Liverpool is in the frantic pace and car crash between history and nation branding. Redefinition of the Museum as an Expo building would clarify the building’s role as a control centre for the city’s nation branding. The building would cease to be a museum and become the permanent base of a globally touring exhibition to promote outreach and encourage investment.

If a museum must exist, then it should be purged of all contemporary artefacts and a concerted effort made to reduce the proportion of Wikibitions. It is hard to know if a reversal of the post-mortem can be made, or if the constructed idea of Liverpool culture is stuck with Liverpool forever. I feel I would be more comforted if the destructive power of the Beaubourg Effect emanated from original artefacts and if the museum only claimed to know my city’s past.

Further Reading

Welcome to MixedPickle

Hello there. This is MixedPickle, a collaborative blog run by a group of friends in Liverpool, UK.
We’re a mixed bunch, hence the site name, and hopefully the content we post will be equally varied. The authors will introduce themselves slowly but surely, and I hope you’ll like what we have to share 🙂