after landing back in the UK, i caught the train from london to manchester. a few mild mix-ups and delays (and google maps telling me to take a walkable path which was closed) i arrived into my airbnb quite late and woke to a city i had never seen before, tired but excited as ever.
an old industrial town, manchester was best known for quality cotton factories due to its interminably damp and humid weather. this reputation has stuck around, though the cotton mills haven’t–the city is still symbolised by the image of a worker bee. these days, it’s the home of some of the best brit-rock; take that, the smiths, oasis, and the 1975 all found their start in manchester.
despite a significant tonal difference from someplace like york or whitby, there is still a distinctly northern feel about the place that’s hard to describe. it still feels welcoming.i spent my first day in manchester just essentially getting my bearings. i had forgotten just how differently i travel when i’m on my own, having spent the first leg of my trip in near-constant company. it essentially took the day to get my mind back on course, and i did so by wandering around, getting lost and then found and then lost again. i explored the city and also the arndale shopping complex, and i bought a warmer coat at primark. then i went to bed!really compelling stuff, i know.
day two, however, i was back on my feet and feeling more connected.i started the day at the museum of science and industry, which gave a great deal of insight into the history of manchester itself, as well as a fuller context in england and the larger world. one hall held a comprehensive (and partially functional!) collection of vintage cotton processing machines:
…and another held a collection on transportation history–planes, trains, and automobiles alike. part of the museum is actually contained in the world’s oldest surviving passenger rail station and warehouse, both built in 1830! also on display was a functional replica of the first electronic stored-program computer in the world, called baby, which was designed and built in manchester.
after the science and industry museum, i headed up the river to the people’s history museum.
*EDITOR’S NOTE: this is referring to the sociological concept of a “people’s history,” as opposed to the history of people, which is most all of recorded history.*
their exhibits focused on identity and the power of protest, following the line of history through those who fought to move it forward. there was also an exhibit on the peterloo massacre, which had taken place 200 years ago this august. it was encouraging to see all that people have achieved over the years, but slightly disheartening to see so many historical conflicts which are still being fought to this day.
i then popped over to a gallery, shortly before it closed for the evening, and caught glimpse of a bansky and a few other good displays on global earthware and scandinavian design before calling it a night.
the next morning i headed out early to catch a train into the port city of liverpool, home of the beatles and also of the spectacular scouse accent.
liverpool is also the location of another tate gallery, which naturally took up a significant chunk out of my day. they were featuring a show on the inimitable keith haring, pop art legend and queer icon.
while pop art tends to be quite hit or miss for me, i can never have enough haring in my life. it would be dfficult to argue that even andy warhol has made such an enormous cultural impact.
also at the tate were works by david hockney, barbara kruger, l.s. lowry, mark rothko, damien hirst, david shrigey…the list goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.
i also saw a particular picasso which i have now seen three separate times, in three separate galleries.
i think she’s following me.
from there, i moved onto the liverpool museum just north. most of it was standard city history fare: archaeological finds, world wars, local legends (and i don’t mean to dismiss them entirely, as they were quite good!) and the like. also open was a show dedicated to the lives and works of yoko ono and john lennon.
and, somehow, despite my middling interest in the beatles, it unified the whole trip quite magically. their work together–though especially ono’s–developed art which engaged in new ways, and stood for peace above all. the death of john lennon drastically impacted keith haring, and the figure with a hole in their stomach became a motif that appeared frequently in his own art–as the aids epidemic began to tear apart his own community, before eventually taking his life as well. so many people, fighting for peace and love and rights and safety; so many great lives cut short. but then, despite the loss, things keep moving forward. slower, to be sure, than if they hadn’t, but forward nonetheless.
it was a contemplative train journey back to manchester for the last night.
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