Sheffield and The North
The Human League, Designers Republic, David Peace, and accidental and purposeful post-industrial decline; the hard contradictions of Sheffield
Ed. This piece was originally published at cityofsound.com on March 11 2009.
Bleak. In a word, bleak.
A cliché about the north, but there’s no smog without blast furnaces. After last week’s circumnavigation of Sydney, Bangkok, Hong Kong and Geneva, Sheffield appears leached of all colour. While Geneva’s browns, greys and blacks had a certain clarity to them, particularly in the crisp blue sky and winter sun of Friday and perhaps elevated by the surrounding Alps on every horizon, England’s unfolding landscape is drab, listless, plain. As the north approaches, emerging through the train window, there’s almost a form of beauty to its unremitting monotony. Almost.
Splinters of trees are merely feathery scratches set against the flat white sky and uneven soggy fields. Forgotten housing blocks and unforgivably dreary Barrett estates sidle up to the edge of town. The near-monochrome palette seems impossible, almost a joke, like “It’s grim up north”, after the fecund southern hemisphere or Geneva’s quiet confidence. Elsewhere, the North of England is full of vibrancy, colour, invention—but not here…
