Tunstall Part 2: In Praise of Father Ryan...Downtown

The Roman Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart, Tunstall; copyright, the Sheriff

In Praise of Father Ryan

Overlooking Tunstall Park from Queen's Avenue is the Roman Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart which is one of North Staffordshire's major architectural statements. I have written previously elsewhere of the church, and some of that is reproduced here; I make no apologies.

The morning that the Sheriff and I visited Tunstall was grey, damp, cool and miserable. It was more like October than May, and at times, I was colder than a polar bear's jockstrap. However, although the sun had done its not too surprising disappearing act, the copper domes of the Roman Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart lit up the sky for us.

The church was the vision of Father P.J.Ryan, who in 1925 appointed prominent architect J.S.Brocklesby and issued him with a challenging brief: to trump the local Protestants and build the biggest, most imposing and beautiful church in the area. Brocklesby took on the challenge, but unfortunately for him, Father Ryan had absolutely no intention of implementing his architect's plans. He dragged Brocklesby all over Europe to draw inspiration from continental places of worship, and his ideas grew and grew.

Father Ryan was an infuriating client for Brocklesby, so much so that the exasperated architect quit the job and never completed his commission: Father Ryan himself was responsible for the end product, and with the help of local labour, the church opened its doors to worshipers in 1930. It was a remarkable achievement, particularly given that this was the time of the Great Depression.

Father Ryan was held in great esteem throughout North Staffordshire, and legend has it that when he died in 1951, his funeral procession was five miles long and brought the area to a stand still: an amazing show of respect and affection.

The most amazing thing about Father Ryan though is his church. A true architectural statement and a wonderful legacy and gift to Tunstall. The Church of the Sacred Heart is one of the first buildings that I took an interest in, and the sight of it always takes me back to summer days spent in Tunstall Park with my family.

We have just been through an era of unprecedented public spending in North Staffordshire, with the previous Government pouring hundreds of millions of pounds of funding into the area to invest in regeneration projects and initiatives, and yet we have delivered hardly any new architecture of note. The only public body that seems to have seriously invested in improving local infrastructure is the NHS, who have built a series of new health facilities throughout North Staffordshire. Though welcome, none are of any architectural quality.  And the private sector have not covered themselves in glory either. It is incredibly sad and infuriating.

And it is a real shame that today's local architects don't take a closer look at the Potteries' architectural heritage for inspiration; the city has many fine buildings, great learning material, yet much new design throughout North Staffordshire struggles to rise above mediocrity. This is a particular problem with new ecclesiastic architecture. Time and time again fine old chapels and churches are left to deteriorate or sold off to vandals for new, often inappropriate uses, while the congregation moves on to a new building. And new places of worship are often greatly disappointing: mediocre low-rise, single-storey brick and tile boxes that give no indication of what the building is there for (is is a doctor's surgery? a nursery? a community centre?), greatly lacking the art that is inherent in the edifices that they replace. The reason for that is perhaps a lack of characters like Father Ryan. Characters with vision and drive, and a passion for what they believe in. People that refuse to accept second best. It could be argued that the state of historic religious buildings and modern church design in North Staffordshire are symbols of the decline of the church.

Downtown

 

Growing up in Packmoor, Tunstall was 'my town'. I've spoken of my love for Tunstall Park, and the hours I spent there. My dentist was in Tunstall Health Centre. I bought my first records in Replay Records on the High Street. It was also the place of many firsts for me. My first job was at the former Co-op supermarket, fetching in trolleys and stacking shelves. I did work experience in a local architect's practice. And my first trip to the pictures to experience the silver screen was to the old Barber's Palace on the Boulevard. Tunstall means a lot to me.

copyright Steve Birks

When visiting Tunstall, I always feel that I have 'arrived' when I turn onto the Boulevard (formerly Station Road; the Boulevard is a much better moniker) from Victoria Park Road. The Boulevard might not be a classic urban street in the sense that Deansgate in Manchester or Princes Street in Edinburgh are, but the approach to the heart of Tunstall along the Boulevard always gave me the sense of arrival, even though the route is severed by a by-pass.

The Boulevard, Google Street View

The growth of this end of the town began during the 1870s with the construction of the Potteries Loop Line, and Tunstall Station (hence the Boulevard's former name). The introduction of this important connection between the towns of Kidsgrove and Hanley led to an increase in development, in particular the laying out of Victoria Park, the building of new housing as the town's population expanded, and the construction of a range of public buildings by the Borough Surveyor and Potteries architect par excellence, A.R.Wood.

In 1880, the area was mostly wasteland and earthworks, and the Boulevard was just a small lane called Mill Street. In 1890, Wood built the Victoria Institute and Jubilee Buildings to commemorate the golden jubilee of Queen Victoria, with the public library moving there in 1891 where it has remained to this day. It was also home to an art and science school, a museum, public baths and a fire station: a fine example of Victoria-era paternalism.

Victoria Institute and Jubilee Buildings; copyright Steve Birks

The development of this public service hub led to the neighbourhood becoming a very popular place to live, and a series of terraced streets were built, including Stanley Street and Park Terrace, which dates from 1893. The late 1890s saw the transformation of a small recreation ground connected to the public baths, which eventually led to the creation of the War Memorial Garden (more of which will follow).

Opposite the War Memorial Garden is the scene of my first encounter with the silver screen, the site of the former Barber's Palace cinema. Barber's Palace was a large Art Deco picture house, built by George Herbert Barber in 1909. Barber was a strong advocate of religious and temperance subjects and began to give lectures. Eventually he began to use moving pictures instead of slides, leading to the building of his first cinema in Tunstall, where he eventually built a second. He went on to build further 'palaces' between 1909 and 1913 in Hanley, Fenton and Biddulph. He also went on to build another five in Buckinghamshire.

Barber was an interesting and influential character. As well as his cinematic ventures, Barber spent many years on the local political scene, serving as a member of Stoke-on-Trent City Council for 23 years, including a stint as Lord Mayor in 1929-30. He was also the author of two books: Small Beginnings and Early Days of Chemical Recoveries from Coal. He also went on to make early air flights around Europe, Palestine, Egypt and Russia.

But for this particular young kid from Packmoor, his most important contribution was his first 'Barber's Palace'.

'Barber's Palace', 1920s (L), and with its altered Art Deco facade, abandoned in 1993 (R); copyright Steve Birks

My generation is probably the last for whom a trip to the pictures had a genuine sense of magic. I will never forget my first visit, and the excitement I felt entering the strange and mystical building. The film I saw was E.T. some 30 years or so ago, and I was enchanted. I also cried like an English footballer at the World Cup when the alien cleared off home.

 

Films and cinema were still special back then. Computer generated special effects may be impressive, and Hollywood stars slick, but the whole package - including the mass marketing through today's multi-media sources - just has no soul. Everything is almost force-fed to you, and so the build-up of excitement as the opening of a new film approaches is gone. Film today is less art and more product.

And the same can be said about the buildings in which you have to watch Hollywood Blockbusters these days. The Potteries once had a host of fine cinemas. Now you have to pay a visit to the monstrous Festival Park to 'the Odeon' and sit in an awful tin shed, eating popcorn that is more like cardboard and for which you need to take out a mortgage to pay for. This, apparently, is progress. Maybe it's a sign that I'm getting old?

I recently visited the cinema with my Better Half, and was left agog by an anti-piracy ad before the film started. The ad depicted an abandoned, derelict Art Deco cinema, and suggested that piracy results in the decline of the film industry and shuts cinemas, when actually the growth of out-of-town retail parks and the fleeing of cinemas to such locations has accelerated this trend. I'm sure the stupid bastards that peddle such propaganda don't get the irony.

Whilst my memories remain, Tunstall's Barber's Palace has long since gone, replaced by a drab exercise in CABEism, a crappy block of flats. Apartment-living was never going to truly come to the Potteries in the way it boomed in cities like Manchester, and certainly not to Tunstall. Clearly the idea of this particular scheme was to take advantage of views over the War Memorial Garden from their frontage on the Boulevard. But it also 'enjoys' stunning views of the Brittain Adams gas showroom's depot and warehouse, and the arse-end of the vile Alexandra Park retail park. The flats aren't that old, maybe four or five years, but their gob-on balconies are starting to look worse-for-wear already, and there is also evidence of damp on the building's frontage, probably because it doesn't benefit from much sunlight.

CABEism in Tunstall

Copyright, the Sheriff

This new block of flats encapsulates all that was wrong with the approach to housing during the New Labour years: pile 'em high in the search for higher land value, built to crap standards and questionable architecture. But despite much talk of the importance of housing, this Government has not demonstrated that it actually gives a shit. Desperate to get back to the 'good old days' before the bubble burst, housebuilders and developers have successfully lobbied the Government to introduce the 'Help to Buy' scheme which effectively provides a taxpayer-funded guarantee towards unsustainable and risky lending patterns, which helped to create the boom and led to the bust that followed. So once again, we will all pick up the tab for an orgy of casino property development. Do the politicians ever learn?