Tag: Bullring

June 9th – A trip into Birmingham on some errands on a grey, overcast and miserable afternoon. Crossing what’s now called ‘Spiceal Street’ – the open space running down from the Bullring Centre to the Markets and St. Martins, I looked down and noticed this curious plaque set into a manhole cover in the paving.

I suppose I ought to look it up, but this seems bizarre to me; how can a meteorite fall twice? In 2000, this was a building site. Is this some pop-culture reference I’m dumb to, or is it genuine? 

(Added later)
Hang on. This really has a whiff of Bill Drummond about it – it feels like one of his.

How peculiar… anyone know about this?

September 30th – The rest of Birmingham, from Snow Hill to Soho, from Victoria Square to the Bull Ring, was carrying on regardless, as it tends to do – the architecture as ever was a joy, as were the crowded streets and very changeable weather. 

Birmingham has progressed massively in my lifetime. But I still adore it. It’s a wonderful place. 

Birmingham – please never stop changing.

March 5th – And on I pottered. The dark and dusk encroached, held at bay as ever it is by the electric night of Birmingham City Centre. The traffic, the lights, the people, the susurration of thousands of unconnected lives crossing in this place.

To be still here it like being flotsam on some heaving human tide. I never tire of it.

Again, all snatched, all handheld.

November 21st – At the other end of the day, it was even colder. But the air had developed that hard, glassy-clear quality that it only really develops in winter; when even sounds seem sharper. I noticed as I hopped between stations that the view of the mid-renovation New Street Station, Bullring and Smallbrook from the access bridge was quite stunning, so I stopped to photograph it a while.

Quite surprised I wasn’t collared by the ever-present security as I took these, to be honest…

May 8th – I’m fascinated by the Selfridges building that forms part of the Bullring in Birmingham. I’m intrigued by the curves, textures and interaction with the surrounding environment.

It’s a brave, bold piece of architecture, and I love it. I’m particularly fond of the car park link walkway, which looks like something from a 1960s sic-fi film.

It’s a surprisingly local affair. Built and project managed by Midlanders, The discs, freshly cleaned this year, were anodised in Walsall. 

You either love it or hate it, but it can’t be ignored.

January 10th – I keep forgetting to take photos in Birmingham. I pass through it every day, and am still failing to look at it properly. The New Bullring and Selfridges are classic night photography shots; probably cliched by now – but I liked the angle from Moor Street; that the whole thing was viewed from a restored, beautiful Victorian railway station, with the camera tripod wound around genuine old railings. The steam engine – supplied by Tyseley Railway Museum is a nice touch, too, although the track it stands on isn’t connected to anything.

September 21st – The madness of crowds. On my way through Brum, I’d heard there was an event for cyclists up in Victoria Square. Sadly, I was too late for the free pastries, but I did meet a nice fellow cyclist or two, which was rather nice. Heading back down through the city centre I was bemused by the huge queue snaking its way up New Street from out of the Bullring Shopping Centre. Then I twigged: It was iPhone launch day. I’m an Apple nerd myself, but I’d draw the line at that.
I can remember waiting on launch day for the iPhone in Lichfield, but there were five of us. I did that for the experience, and never again. I guess many of these folk are hoping to pick up a couple of units to sell on. Strange days indeed.

July 12th – Station to station on seemingly different days. I left for work this morning – again, I was in southeast Birmingham – in bright sunshine, with clear blue skies. I took my jumper off, enjoyed the breeze and the traffic. The view of the Bull Ring from Moor Street was particularly wonderful – so many architectural styles in one view. Sadly, on my return at 8:30pm, the day had turned nasty. Short heavy showers, separated by steady drizzle. Shenstone station looked as handsome as ever, but the weather was a real pain. Why do I seem to keep scaring summer off?