Sense Not Censorship 2 - Movie Posters

Let us get something clear, right from the off; I am in no way a prude, nor do I think that creative people should be subject to draconian censorship. However, I do believe, wholeheartedly, that those same creative people should be prepared to take responsibility for what they put into the public domain.

The case in point here is film posters. We know that there is a massive publicity machine behind the promotion of new movies - how else do they generate an audience to see the movies in the first place? We also know that the saturation point for media output has been met. So it would seem that the PR and marketing teams behind most new releases have run out of original ideas and now resort to lowest common denominator shock tactics. Or innuendo. Or, as in the example below, both.

As a parent of young children I think it should be my right to walk through my City centre, use public transport, or (retro-bloke that I am) use a phonebox occasionally without being confronted with an array of graphic, violent or gory images that I then have to try to explain to a confused, frightened or bewildered child. These same images should not be displayed on hoardings or those scrolling advertising boards. In a magazine that I can choose not to buy; fine. In certain parts of the cineplex not frequented by families with children; no problem. All it takes is a little sense, a little bit of thought.

We complain that our young people are increasingly violent, sexualised, horror-fixated, and disengaged from reality and then proceed to fill every available space with imagery that promotes violence, sex, and horror. The posters for each of the 'Saw' movies have been progressively grim. Graphically clever you might argue, but are they really suitable to be plastered anywhere and everywhere? Does the presence of a gun really enhance the attractiveness of the movie's hero/heroine? If so, are we really comfortable with this fact if we actually stop to think about the repercussions? Do the PR gurus deem the intelligence of the average cinema-goer to be so low that they cannot tell that a film is a thriller without there needing to be at least one firearm in the imagery? Never mind the Freudian aspect of guys and their guns!

I have chosen a few images to illustrate this post. I chose them quickly and there are many, many more examples of graphic, violent and just plain naff imagery that I could have picked. I return to my original statement: I do not wish to stop the creation of such material, I just wish some thought went into where it was placed.

Positive Bradford

Just lately there has been much love shown to my hometown; Bradford. Usually the city is a butt of someone's joke or held up as an example of all that is wrong with 'multicultural' and 'segregated' Britain. But, just lately, this has changed and instead of the lazy stereotypes we have been feted as an example of all that is positive about multicultural Britain.

Thanks to some ill-considered programme making by Channel 4, whose recent two-part social experiment to "Make Bradford British" caused an upswell in indignation, there has been a plethora of bloggers, writers and journalists (as well as many everyday Bradfordians) who have stood up and declared their allegiance to our city.

Much has been written already about the TV programme and its slanted portrayals by better writers and advocates than me. I refer you to their words at this point. Kate Wellham, Irna Qureshi, Bradfordia, John Atkinson and others all write passionately, wittily and wisely about Worstedopolis!

But my point is that whatever your take on the media's representations or other people's prejudices, they have stirred up debate around some issues that we still do not like talking about. As Oscar Wilde said, "There is only one thing worse than being talked and that is not being talked about" and people are certainly talking about us now. What has pleased me the most is that, at last, we have sidled out from under the shadow of Leeds and have begun to be positive about our home. I won't add to the word count on the matter any further but below are some photos I have taken over the past year or so as the city has begun to hold its head up.

Home Tourist 4 - Bingley Five Rise Locks

As we live no more than five minutes' walk from the Leeds & Liverpool Canal in Bingley, when I heard on local radio that there would be an opportunity to walk through the famous Five Rise Locks, we jumped at the chance. The locks were in the process of being restored and new gates had only just been fitted. In order to complete this major project, the lock system had been drained and, for one weekend only, the public were given access. So, on the 28th of January, my youngest daughter and I donned our wellies and set off.

Bingley Five Rise Locks - photo courtesy of Waterscape.com

Bingley Five Rise Locks are one of the major landmarks of the national waterway network and have been described as one of the ‘Seven Wonders of the Waterways’. An 18th century engineering masterpiece built by John Longbotham, these five locks operate as a 'staircase' flight – in which the lower gate of one lock forms the upper gate of the next. When completed in 1774, thousands gathered to watch the first boats make the 60 foot descent.

We walked along the familiar stretch of towpath from Bingley Three Rise Locks, our point of access, and joined the large number of other people who were heading in the same direction. The towpath is a popular route for walkers and cyclists all year round but this was the busiest I have ever seen it. Luckily the weather was dry, bright and crisp which added to the enjoyment. The locks had been open to the public since 10:00am and already several hundred people had made the trip through them.

We arrived at about 2:00pm and made our way to the end of the queue that was snaking back over the swing bridge and up towards the Fairfax Road allotments. The queue was made up of a diverse range of people; families, ramblers, those with an interest in engineering or local history. Everyone chatted amiably and, with a few exceptions, nobody minded the wait. Several people commented on the numbers that had made the trip to see the locks and how the owners of the Five Rise cafe must have been looking forward to the best weekend of the year.

As the queue gradually moved forward (with more people arriving all the time) we overheard one of the renovation team on his mobile phone, "We're going to have to stay open a little later than planned...check with the volunteers that they can stay on after four..." How great that so much interest was being taken in our little piece of industrial heritage. Mini was certainly excited by the prospect of walking through the locks. "Will it be muddy?", she asked with a glint in her eye.

After 25 minutes or so we reached the head of the queue. As we carefully clambered down the first temporary staircase into the top lock chamber the scale of the project began to dawn. The water had been drained from the locks, and small pumps in each chamber were dealing with any seepage. Looking upstream, I could see the planks of wood laid one on top of the next to form a water-tight barrier. It seemed sturdy enough..."I hope so", said the cheerful volunteer who was stationed at this point, "It's all that is keeping back sixteen miles of canal!"

Once in the lock itself, you can really appreciate the skill of the craftsmen who were involved in the original building of the canal. Blocks of stone three feet wide, stretching up over ten meters above our heads. To one side was a hole in the wall big enough for mini to climb inside. This was one of the sluice outlets that help to fill the locks as they are required. Down here, awed by the sheer scale, it was easy to imagine the sheer hard work involved in digging out the channel, lining it and making it all function. All done, of course, with hand tools; you could almost hear the echoes of the pick axes and shovels.

We moved through the five locks and I cursed myself for not bringing my DSLR camera. Plenty of people had and were capturing the day both in stills and on video. Beneath one of the new gates we listened to another volunteer who was explaining about how they were made locally in one of only two workshops in the country capable of doing it. Each door is handmade to fit from English Green Oak and weighs five tonnes. With the weight of the water in the lock when they are operational, each door will weigh nearer twenty-five tonnes. The pairs of doors cost in the region of £25,000 to make and are expected to last up to thirty years. The top set they are replacing had lasted over forty years but with new regulations on the kinds of preservatives that can be used it is unlikely that these new ones will have as long a life.

Looking back up the flight of locks, I was really pleased that I had made the effort to come and see them from this unique perspective. Mini had been fascinated by the whole adventure, and this was a fantastic opportunity to experience some real living history.

As we climbed the staircase and stood on the side of the bottom lock, a small, tourist boat edged its way into the mouth of the lock for a close up look at the new gates. Mini waved at the passengers and squeezed my hand. "They can't walk inside it, can they?" she said. "No, but we have. Did you enjoy it?"
"Yeah!", she replied, "It was cool!...but not very muddy"
She seemed almost disappointed. 

Home Tourist 3 - How Stean Gorge

Wanting a post-Christmas outing to blow away the cobwebs and work off a bit of the over-indulgence, the Monkeyclan decided to visit How Stean Gorge in Nidderdale. This part of the Yorkshire Dales is well-known for the spectacular scenery and geological wonders - there are caverns, river gorges and pot-holes aplenty. We wanted to get away from the city, into some nature, and have a scenic walk to stretch the legs. We got all that and more...

Situated 8 miles or so beyond the pretty Dales town of Pately Bridge, How Stean Gorge has been a visitor attraction since the Victorian era. The present owners have upgraded it considerably and it now offers outdoor adventure activities for families, schools groups, and even corporate training events. On our visit, on a slightly damp and drizzly late December day however, it was nice and quiet.

The drive from Pately Bridge takes you alongside the River Nidd for a fair distance before the immense expanse of Gouthwaite Reservoir appears. The reservoir is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, and home to a large number of bird species. There are several viewing areas along its shores that allow for a chance to observe the wildlife. This stretch of the road is very like those you find around the Lake District and the scenery is similar, with wooded slopes and rolling, heather strewn moorland above. Just beyond the attractive village of Lofthouse is the car-park and reception for How Stean Gorge. Slowly driving over the bridge to the car park gave our excited kids their forst glimpse of the gorge itself. Running for almost 1km in length and up to 20m deep in places, it is quite something.

The friendly receptionist welcomed us with a smile and, as she explained where to collect our hard hats and gave out the dynamo powered torches that we would need, she also pointed out the areas that could be slippery underfoot. At £16 for a family ticket (in our case two adults and three children) it is good value and certainly cheaper than a trip to the local cineplex. It is also way more fun!

We each took a hard hat from the bins at the entrance to the gorge and headed off along the path. This is not a suitable place for anyone with a pushchair or any mobility problems (although the cafe is wheelchair accessible) as the paths are uneven, narrow and follow the river's edge. The trail leads up river several metres above the river itself. From this vantage point it is easy to see the power of the water as it cascades through the narrow, limestone gorge. The rock has been eroded into twisting curves and the water froths and tumbles on its way downstream. The noise of the river echoes back and forth between the steep banks and adds to the atmosphere of adventure. We were only walking along the footpath and the adrenaline was flowing; it must be amazing to be scrambling and wading along the river itself, following the 'Via Ferrara' trail. This guided walk, wade, climb and abseil is bookable online and does look both exhilarating and terrifying in equal parts; especially as the safety lines, ariel ladders and walkways are clearly visible from the pathway. Needless to say, our fourteen year old son has requested that we book for him to go for his next birthday!

Today was to be rather more sedate although we did get to scramble along the river bank and feel the power of the water at close quarters. First, though, we headed along the trail to find Aslan. This carved wooden statue was apparently commissioned by Disney as promotion for the recent Chronicles of Narnia films, although quite how it ended up here is not entirely clear. Other information about the gorge is more forthcoming thanks to a series of information boards posted at regular intervals along the trail. These give historical, botanical and geological information as well as encouraging younger visitors to look out for various examples of wildlife and flora. At the end of the trail is How Stean Tunnel which provides some slightly more challenging terrain, with caves and rock formations to explore. Due to the high water levels we decided not to risk this particular section and, instead, headed back downstream towards Tom Taylor's Cave.

Crossing the gorge on one of the narrow beam footbridges, we made our way to the mouth of the Cave. Named after a local ne'er do well and highwayman, the cave is a 300ft tunnel under the river bank. Originally used by Tom Taylor as a hideout and store for his ill-gotten loot, this is a great first experience for a novice caver. Just inside the entrance to the cave, on the left, a rope allows access into a smaller chamber. It is a bit of a strenuous climb but, I was informed by Mrs M, well worth it. The main tunnel is entered via a wooden staircase. The passage is narrow and low at times (hence the hard hats!) but relatively easy going. Our five-year-old managed it and enjoyed using the torch she had been given to illuminate the rock formations and the sources of the water dropping from above. At the far end of the tunnel, as we had taken it, is 'the beehive chamber' and just beyond this a natural staircase leads upwards to emerge into daylight in 'Cat Hole' not far from the car park. It was here that Minimonkey was delighted to meet some of the local wildlife; a very cheeky and surprisingly confident robin came to investigate her boots.

We decided to make our way back through the cave to the river bank. Another narrow bridge took us across the river again to a long, low flat rock from which we skimmed stones and would probably have had our picnic had I not left it on the dining table at home. Instead we headed to the tearooms for a well-deserved cake and a cuppa. Having successfully navigated the river bank and twice through the cave, Minimonkey celebrated the end of her walk by having to be rescued from the top of the climbing frame in the small playground outside the cafe. The tearooms sell home-cooked food using locally sourced ingredients, as well as a selection of delicious cakes. I had never heard of it before but can heartily recommend the Jap. Once again the service was friendly and cheerful, and the lady in the cafe was very apologetic that there was nothing wheat or egg-free for Minimonkey to eat.

Feeling tired and happy, we chatted over our drinks and looked at the artworks by local artists that are displayed on the tearoom walls. Our favourite was the sculpture of a viking longboat made from retired stainless steel teapots and jugs from the cafe. After a quick visit to the loos and the obligatory stop at the small giftshop, we said goodbye and headed back in the fading daylight. Passing through the dusky countryside, seeing the Christmas lights in the houses of Lofthouse and Ramsgill, I turned to ask the Monkeykids what they had enjoyed most about the day...but they were all asleep in the back of the car.

Full details about How Stean Gorge can be found at their website.

The Soul of the City

This article originally appeared on the CultureVulture website.

There are some buildings that fulfil an important role in the fabric of people's lives. Depending on one's viewpoint and experience, a solid argument could be made for any number of buildings - churches, schools, hospitals, libraries etc. Indeed, architects would certainly argue that all buildings are important else why build them in the first place? However, there are some buildings which hold a more central place in people's affections; I can't imagine too much protest over the demolition of the local tax office.

In Bradford one such building is the old Odeon Cinema. Originally built in 1929, the imposing art deco building was, at one time, the third largest entertainment venue in the country, boasting a ballroom, restaurant and large-scale auditorium. In the 1960s it became part of the Gaumont circuit, attracting top names from the rock and pop world including Tom Jones, The Rolling Stones, and The Beatles. Famously, John Lennon found himself in need of a dentist whilst in Bradford, and nipped up Thotnton Road to attend a local surgery between the matinee and evening shows. A refit in the late 1960s covered up much of the Odeon's splendour but, thankfully, many of the original fixtures, features and fittings remain behind stud walls and breezeblocks. A detailed history of the building, along with images from its heyday can be found on the Bradford Odeon Rescue Group website.



This was the cinema where I first saw Star Wars, queuing around the block to get in. I saw The Spy Who Loved Me at the Odeon; saw my first 'A' rated film - we sneaked in to watch Kramer vs Kramer having paid to see Pete's Dragon. I was here when a cinema full of skinheads, scooter boys and rude girls moon stomped in the aisles as the film Dance Craze played on the screen. It was here that I saw Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It was here that I had my first close encounter of the teenage kind during a showing of Mannequin!



Even when the owners decided to maximise profit by splitting the big auditorium into two, then three smaller screens, the magic continued. When my wife and I first got together, some of our earliest dates were at The Odeon; we took our son to see The Tigger Movie, his first big-screen experience; all milestones in our family's shared history. These experiences are multiplied across the many tens of thousands of other Bradfordians who used to go to The Odeon.


The beautiful building remains, slowly rotting through neglect whilst around it other construction sites throw up modern glass and steel office blocks and anonymous chain hotels that literally reflect the shabbiness of this once great palace of entertainment. Just a few metres away across the busy dual carriageway that slices through the city centre, the City Park nears completion. This £24m development will give Bradford the largest city centre water feature in Europe. It comprises approximately six acres of paved and landscaped walkways that can be flooded and drained as required. More than a hundred controllable fountains will play, creating dynamic water sculptures, beneath the tall, reed-like floodlights that will illuminate the space at night.

Now, I am an optimistic person and can already see some benefits from the City Park development, not least of which is the opening up of the skyline across the Centenary Square. Now it is possible to look from the stunning Italianate City Hall building right across to The Alhambra Theatre. The Sixties brutalist home of The National Media Museum looks down from one side, whilst from the other stares the modern edifice of the Provident Financial building - several eras of architectural style collected together. But slap bang in the middle, like a derelict and decrepit dowager aunt, sits The Odeon. Incongruous, neglected, but, stubbornly, still there.

The Council have shown a woeful lack of vision regarding the Odeon. Where other cities would have capitalised on the architectural harmony between The Alhambra Theatre and the Odeon, creating a cultural quarter for the city like Sheffield has done, Bradford Council have hesitated and capitulated as property developers and private financiers have paraded one unwanted or unworkable scheme after another through the planning office. As everyone's attention was drawn to the ill-considered and ultimately ill-fated Westfield development planned for the site of the original Forster Square, the Odeon was quietly sold, only to be left to crumble. Very few Bradfordians actually thought we needed a new shopping centre (the Forster Square Retail Park - as soulless as it sounds - had driven a stake through the heart of the City's central shopping area already) but pretty much everyone who was asked or who offered their opinions wanted the Odeon to be saved.


So what happens to a city's collective memories and experiences once such a place is pulled down? And how do those people feel when their opinions are sought only to be ignored? When they have clearly expressed their wishes regarding the future of the building, through letters to the council, representations to English Heritage, and through a large-scale public demonstration of their support for it, and for all of that to be disregarded; what then?

Sense After All The Nonsense

The tumultuous events of last week that saw first London and then other major cities erupt into violent disorder gave many people grave cause for concern. In the aftermath there has been much proselytising and hand-wringing, with the politicians desperate to make capital out of the events. There has been much written about the causes for the riots, and many socio-political theories about the looting; some of the articles have been incisive, each making valid points that I don't intend to regurgitate here. Suffice it to say that I will only offer my thoughts and opinions in order to generate debate and discussion. My theme, as often, is responsibility.

There were many young people who were involved in the disturbances who could give no credible justification for their actions. They were just caught up in 'the buzz' of the events. There were some who claimed it was an attack on "the rich" and to show "the Government that we can do what we want" - although when pressed they were not able to say exactly which party were in power. We can laugh at their ignorance or be disgusted by their lack of respect but these comments (amid a raft of others carried by the news channels) are indicative of a number of the issues that have lead to the situation where such riots can take place.

To have our young people so disengaged from mainstream politics - the kind with a small 'p' as well as the national arena - has left them with no stake in their communities. They do not engage therefore they do not care. One of the reasons, perhaps, that they do not engage is because no-one listens to them anyway. Politicians and policy makers pay lip-service to young people's concerns in the same way that they do those of the elderly or with disabilities. These groups are used as causes to hang careers on, and to score points against the opposition. A very clear example of this occurred on the BBC Newsnight programme broadcast last Thursday (11th August)

The producers has convened a discussion panel that included a young, black man, Margaret Costello who campaigns on behalf of the victims of crime, a rapper called 'Reveal', and Kelvin MacKenzie, ex-editor of The Sun newspaper. Whenever the young man was asked a question and began to answer it, within seconds of him starting to talk the two older people talked over his answers, did not let him finish a sentence, objected to his arguments or contradicted his opinions. This happened consistently throughout the segment. In the end, the young man just sat with a resigned and bemused expression on his face whilst Kelvin MacKenzie went apoplectic beside him.

The irony was that the young man (whose name I really should have taken note of) was stating that many young people are disaffected and disenfranchised precisely because their views are not sought or, if they are, they are not listened to. The point was eloquently made by the actions of the two older and, one would have hoped, wiser panellists.

So, yes, those involved in the anti-social, disruptive and criminal behaviour must take responsibility for their actions. They must repay the debt to their communities, without question. But maybe the number of those involved might have been smaller had people been more prepared to listen to the concerns and opinions of those who feel cut-off from mainstream society.

We owe it to our young people to value them enough to let them express themselves. It is our responsibility to teach them how to do that. Young people, especially adolescents, are self-absorbed and introspective; that is the developmental stage that they are at. Much of what they will have to say will reflect this and may well strike us as ego-centric or naive. But in there might be some truths that we need to hear. They may well be uncomfortable truths too about how we are failing to support our future generations.

Home Tourist 2 - The Leeds Owl Trail

Yesterday my two daughters and I braved the rain and headed to Leeds in order to find some owls. When I posted a message on my twitter account that we were going on the Owl Trail, a friend who lives in London asked, "What, pray tell, is the Leeds Owl Trail?". When I explained that it wasn't, in fact, some huge aviary dedicated to owls but rather a semi guided walk through Leeds city centre, in the course of which you search for statues, carvings, pictures and other representations of owls, his reply was, "Genius!" And it is...

Finding activities suitable for a ten year old and a five year old to enjoy that caters for both ages, is interactive, outdoors and (best of all) free is not an easy task but I remembered seeing the leaflet for the Leeds Owl Trail in the tourist information centre at Leeds Station on a previous visit, and thought that we would give it a go. So, having more or less convinced the two monkeys that they would enjoy the day, we set out.

Minimonkey (5 going on 30) took some drawing paper, pencils and a word search book with her "in case I get bored and need a sit down" - these all made an appearance on the short train journey between Bingley and Leeds but were not seen again all afternoon. The word search book was, I soon realised, just a cunning ploy to get her little hands on the highlighter pen that I have in my bag and keep it for the day in order to mark on the map the locations of any owls we might discover on our quest. Midimonkey (10 going on 35) took the Harry Potter book that she is re-reading for the second time. I think she was secretly hoping that Hedwig might put in a suprise appearance during the day.

We picked up the leaflet in the tourist information shop and had a quick pre-expedition study of the terrain. The graphical representation of the city centre is colourful and engaging, with photographs of the owls you need to spot and a brief statement about each one placed around the edges. There is a good deal of information squeezed onto the leaflet and our recce soon revealed that there were several owls to find quite near to the station. So, takng a rather carefree approach, we fastened up our raincoats and headed off in search of owl number 17.

This is one of the strengths of the trail, it can be followed in a number of ways: start with owl number 1 and work your way through all twenty five of them, pick a random number and try to find it, take the i-Spy book approach and just tick them off as you go about your business (no points awarded for finding them, though, in this case!) We found the first owl and were away. It soon became clear that the trail combines social history, architecture, folk-lore and art in a way that encourages visitors to Leeds to take a closer look around them. I am sure that other cities have something in a similar vein but having the owl theme just gives this experience a little something extra.

By the time we had ticked off owls number 16, 14 and 15 the girls were hooked. "This is really good fun, Dad!" Mini exclaimed as she spotted the carved owl on Hepper House (no.13). "It's more fun than I thought it was going to be." Midi agreed. We stood just inside the entrance of the posh hotel that now houses the Quebec Owl, dripping quietly onto the expensive carpet whilst gazing up at the elaborate and beautiful stained glass window. Nobody seemed to mind the bedraggled trio who clearly were not guests. Perhaps they were used to 'owl tourists'? We made up our own 'Owl Detectives' theme tune and sang it as we went round. We even searched in the style of action heroes, making dramatic pointing gestures and running across Millenium Square in slow-motion. On reaching the large golden owls outside the Civic Hall, however, Midi had noticed that some people were staring and mumbled, "Okay Dad, that's enough, you're embarrassing me now!" Ah, lost innocence...

The Monkeygirls on the Owl Trail

In a calmer manner we carried on searching for the owls, learning along the way the different materials that were used for the buildings, the architects' names, the predominant style in which the buildings were built. Midi read the map and lead the way, Mini coloured in the finds with the highlighter, and I had a lovely afternoon with my daughters. The rain stopped and the sun came out, illuminating the stones of St Anne's Cathedral. Mini declared that she was tired and needed a chai tea in Starbucks (her mother's daughter, definitely) and so we called it a day. Over a warm drink we chatted about the day; both girls had enjoyed the experience. Midi had liked the historical aspect of the trail, finding out about the City itself. Mini had liked finding the different types of owls and drew a picture of several on the paper she had brought with her. We had found twelve of the twenty-five owls on the trail - although technically we had discovered thirteen as there is one above the door to the old post office in City Square that does not currently appear on the list - and will definitely come back to find the remainder.

On the whole, the Leeds Owl Trail is a winner for anyone, either with or without kids, who is interested in architecture, history and art, and wants a novel way to discover the heritage of Leeds City Centre. It is fairly easy walking with no great distances involved, Leeds Parish Church being the current furthest point from the train station. The roads around King Street, Quebec Street, East Parade, The Headrow, and Park Row are busy and care should be taken when crossing them, especially with an energetic five-year-old! Drivers seem to care little for pedestrians, owl-hunters or no, as evidenced by the taxi driver who took great pleasure in driving through a huge puddle, soaking some poor young chap in a suit who looked like he was on his way to a meeting. So, if you do decide to follow the recommendation of a flawed monkey and two of the monkeykids, we hope you enjoy spotting the Leeds owls. For more information log on to http://www.leedsowltrail.com/

Now, how do you get bright yellow ink off of monkey paws? Mini, come here...!