GrahamH

I was down there the other night, and it looks great on many levels and dubious on others. Obviously there’s a heck of a long way to go yet, but a few things do stand out as odd. The raised flower beds/seating blocks break up the space in a big way, acting as major impediments to pedestrian movement. They may make sense from a helicopter or a rendering, but at ground level they make the space feel a bit chaotic and disjointed – at the minute at least you get no sense of a plan or logic to these yokes. You can’t appreciate their role in the square from ground level as some are quite high, creating a warren of walkways like a maze. Maybe when we get to see a clean sweep of them they’ll make more sense.

The same can definitely be said of that horrible car park shed though, as pictured above: a major blockage at the entrance to the square from the south, and concealing the view of the new theatre and wider square as you round the corner. It’s bizarre that it has been dumped where it has.

But the lighting sticks are very cool, and the chequerboard pattern in them is a nice subtle touch. The underseat lighting is also very sharp, if a bit too bright and the green a bit gaudy. Of course the big concern with all of this is maintenance, maintenance, maintenance. How often are these LEDs going to be assessed and replaced? Once a single unit blows out of the thousands upon thousands in use, the entire host sequence is ruined. Indeed already there’s a walkway light blown outside the new supermarket. And one need only wander down the quays afterwards to observe what this place is going to be like in a few years time – there are tends upon tens of LEDs blown and units untended, while there are countless numbers of the older incandescent tree and walkway uplighters blown all round the c.2000 campshire walks. Is this going to be the fate of the plaza too?

And the thing about the plaza is that its whole crisp effect relies on a pristine maintenance of the public domain and technical features. Without this it’s going to end up an embarrassment, akin to a an 80’s shopping centre in Milton Keynes or a once-proud decrepit town centre ‘civic regeneration’ project. It’s essential it’s kept looking good.

Save your delicate sensibilities ctesiphon and avoid it at all costs. I’m considering taking a new route to work from here on in, as passing it every morning gets the blood pressure into an unhealthy state for such an early hour – the daily quota is being hit even before the lunchtime stroll over mauled antique pavements 😉

An interesting point Nina regarding the eh, ‘pyramids’. Personally I view them as being of limited merit in themselves: little more than a typical tokenistic feature of 1980’s retail architecture, and a desperate attempt to tart up the economising, bleak facade of the Ilac. They’re a 1980’s version of a modern-day cheap n cheerful glazed ‘sail’ canopy or similar. Frank McDonald’s memorable description of 1984 was: “The Moore Street facade is little more than a pre-cast concrete wall, 150 yards long, relieved only by ridiculous coloured plastic pyramids, steel bars and balls, like a strung out chemical formula. And the Parnell Street ‘frontage’ has been politiely described as a visual mess.” 🙂

However, I agree that they have just about scraped it into our collective ‘visual heritage’ – for good or bad. Indeed I think they are probably more indicative of what could have been with the Ilac, had it been built to double the size originally intended, and with a half decent budget. They are a taster of the psychedelic high fashion that could have prevailed both on the interior and exterior, especially if it had been built somewhere like a prosperous UK city. In which case we’d have an even bigger mess to clear up now 😀

I’ve always found it a bit difficult to reconcile the two aspects of 1980’s design evident with the Ilac: on the one hand the remarkably drab and sleazy brown tiling and dark, dingy interior finishes, and the crude concrete outside, and on the other hand the glitzy, decadent bright plastics used with the pyramids, and interior features like the acres of glamorous little sparkling lights and bright pink neon tubes. It’s odd how polar opposite tastes were fashionable at the same time.

But yes, it’ll be a shame to see the disappearance of probably the last vestige of large-scale 1980’s modern design in Dublin before the heritage wave crashed on our shores. And they do form a distinctive part of a streetscape of the city. They’ll probably be remembered fondly simply for injecting a rare spark of life and colour to what was an otherwise dying city.

Just an example of the reliance on the processed rubbish these places sell, I frequented no less than four of these ‘convenience’ stores today before I could find an edible banana: Londis on Upper O’Connell Street finally came up trumps, perhaps unsurprisingly also one of the few stores that actually has planning permission.

Because they all stock the same stuff and are even operated by the same people, far from increasing competition, many of these convenience stores are actually curtailing both choice and value. There’s simply no range in fruit, in confectionary or in fresh breads and cakes. Of course these are only ‘convenience’ stores, but the problem is that they appear to be pushing out independent operators who could potentially offer greater variety and better value. The market has become so saturated that they’re now opening up on both sides of the same street, evident on Talbot Street, O’Connell Street and even College Green where there’s two Londis stores directly facing each other.

An improved policy hereonin would be to try as far as possible to consolidate this market, by encouraging larger stores that can accommodate better ranges and store fit-outs, and looking unfavourably upon the smaller ones that breed like rabbits across the city, especially on main thoroughfares. They’re probably perceived as the ‘lifeblood’ of a healthy city in some planning quarters, but they’re not if they offer no choice or value for city residents; the proliferation of new apartment developments has after all been one of the principal drivers of their expansion.

How do other European cities deal with catering for local and passing trade, and convenience stores in general?

I’m surprised to hear that you can use any double glazing and still retain an authentic look, Conserve A Sash – do 14mm units really allow this? What is the thickness of the glazing bar in that case? Do you have any pictures of your units like this in action? Many thanks.

Last week, Rob Vance wandered along the long-undergrounded River Poddle on his programme Urban Tales, the famous river that filled the black pool to the back of Dublin Castle, as well as supplied the Norman moat of the fortification. You can see his fascinating journey here :):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5ygnHSLKLY

Unfortunately no mention is made of how old the impressively well-built brick tunnels are that carry it – presumably early 18th century? Interestingly it branches off into two sections at the Castle’s Palace Street gate, presumably because the old moat diverted it a little further westwards around the Castle. In any event, they both merge round about Essex Street, before entering the river to the east of the Clarence Hotel.

Also another wander about in the below video with Yvonne Wheelan along O’Connell Street and the wider city centre, discussing symbolism and identity, and the Abercrombie Plan and the Greater Dublin Reconstruction Movement.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNThzuhg8LM

Programme homepage.

http://www.rte.ie/tv/urbantales/

The bunker part is particularly offensive – the whole building essentially barricades itself up from the city with this defensive ground floor.

(a while ago)

Of course it could be argued that the neighbouring Victorian bank or even City Hall with its cold stone street frontage does precisely the same, but this building in the centre of the square is so obviously suited to public use. Yet the suspicious narrow, tinted glazing and swipecard-operated front door so blatently attempt to ‘protect’ a private occupier from the great unwashed; its a genuinely unpleasant sensation walking alongside the ground floor with it’s sinister strip windows. And in any event, the aforementioned buildings are civic-minded in their wider outlook: this building by contrast hides behind narrow glazing, galvanised doors and a giant sheet of glass blankly reflecting the sky.

So the girder yoke has been there a while I take it ctesiphon? The last time I saw it it hadn’t yet been erected. So does this mean it’s staying?!

It’s just unbelievable.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s not finished…

Magnificent cylinder glass intact from 1855 in the S&IR. Exceptionally rare in the inner city.

Also the windswept public plaza as things currently stand, with the gloriously exposed 1980s apartment box shovelled in behind Burgh’s Treasury Block.

It’s more the stumpy little annex that’s offensive, it’s such a disastrous mess in there. The Cuffe Street washing lines x20, only right beside City Hall.

And the lightwell mentioned earlier.

Granted, there’s some lovely texture in the granite public seating,..

…but these so desperately needed to be in a different colour stone. The whole place feels so totally washed out beside the great white elevation of City Hall. This is one of the reasons so few people want to sit there – you stand out so much in the bright context.