| Check out our blog the monitor |
| Sign me up to receive the free weekly |
 |
| _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ |
| OUR OPERATORS ARE STANDING BY |
Liverpool, Capital of Culture?
My arse
by Marc Sidwell
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The smell of gunpowder’s been drifting across Liverpool
with official sanction this month, after their launch party
as European City of Culture 2008. But having managed to get Ringo
Least-Talented-of-all-the-Beatles™ Starr to perform, he then went
straight onto the Jonathan Ross show and said he’d had a great night
but there was nothing he missed about Liverpool.
Well of course not. Even a rock god with a limited sense of rhythm can
afford the sort of lifestyle London’s hedge fund managers would struggle
to keep up with. First on the list are cars, planes, big houses in the sun
and many highly talented interns – not hanging around in a city with
violent crime affecting 27 of every thousand people (national average,
16.7), theft of motor vehicles at 6.2/1000 (2.9) and burglary from
dwellings at 11.7/1000 (4.3).
I bet Ringo never hankers for a trip to the new National Wildflower
Centre either. And he has his own boat; he doesn’t need a ferry, which,
let’s face it, is just a bus on water, the SS Public Transport.
I’ve been to a capital of cutlery (sorry, culture) before. It was rubbish.
It was in Cork, which is a fantastic little city with great restaurants,
very walkable – altogether the sort of place you could live happily.* But
(a) Capital of Culture? I think not.
Not that we didn’t give it a try. I had a tour around Cork’s new street
lights on the shopping street (“of course, we’re running a little late on
those, wouldn’t you know”) – picking my way through mounds of rubble
and complicated wiring. It gave me a real sense of what CoC funding
actually brings to a winning city: chaos.
The real test is in the events, you say? I thought so too, so I shook the
wet cement off my Converse All-Stars and headed off to the
centrepiece exhibition: Treasures of Cork.
It was full of spoons.
The spoons were made of silver and so could, technically, be described
as ‘treasure’ by a lawyer who really wanted to be punched. Nonetheless,
a certain… predictability does creep in at the nineteenth spoon. At the
second, come to that.
I’m sure Cork’s long and proud silversmithing traditions are both long and
proud, at least as long and proud as Liverpool’s traditions of transporting
slaves and stealing car radios. But an exhibition devoted to the subtle
differences in tine angle between forks is not a continent-wide event.
Later that afternoon, we sat over cake, examining our teaspoons with
new eyes.
“There must be something good on tonight.”
Riffle of programme.
“Nah.”
“Bugger. Still, look at the bevelling on this teaspoon.”
The problem’s not with Liverpool. It’s that Liverpool’s too damn good to
be awarded CoC status.
I mean, face facts, Liverpool does have some great museums and
galleries, all with really magnificent security systems; several great
musical acts have earned enough money here to leave and never return:
these are world-class accomplishments. What is Liverpool doing riding off
the back of a two-bit EU snorefest?
Consider this: there were two winners this year, Liverpool and Stavanger.
What do you mean, what Stavanger? Stavanger, Norway, you poor sap.
The Stavanger that explained why it was qualified for European City of
Culture with the memorable words “Stavanger: Open Port”.
Yes, it’s a port. Where boats come. Which is almost exactly the same as
being a vibrant cultural hub where many influences coalesce in bold new
creative energies. So far they mostly just have the boats. Also the
Norwegian Petroleum Museum. So you can see how the judges couldn’t
choose between Liverpool and Stavanger.
Liverpudlians are so happy to have won, they haven’t noticed the prize
wasn’t worth having. When the glow wears off, they’ll realise they’ve
won the Eurovision song contest for cities. Expect to see locals wearing
fake tans, shiny clothes and too short skirts... oh wait, they already…
THE LIZARD APOLOGISES FOR THIS INTERRUPTION. WE’RE SORRY;
WE’VE HAD THE WRITER GASSED. PLEASE DON’T MAKE US COME TO
LIVERPOOL.
© lizardmagazine.com, 2008
Also see:
BACK TO THE HOMEPAGE
My arse
by Marc Sidwell
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The smell of gunpowder’s been drifting across Liverpool
with official sanction this month, after their launch party
as European City of Culture 2008. But having managed to get Ringo
Least-Talented-of-all-the-Beatles™ Starr to perform, he then went
straight onto the Jonathan Ross show and said he’d had a great night
but there was nothing he missed about Liverpool.
Well of course not. Even a rock god with a limited sense of rhythm can
afford the sort of lifestyle London’s hedge fund managers would struggle
to keep up with. First on the list are cars, planes, big houses in the sun
and many highly talented interns – not hanging around in a city with
violent crime affecting 27 of every thousand people (national average,
16.7), theft of motor vehicles at 6.2/1000 (2.9) and burglary from
dwellings at 11.7/1000 (4.3).
I bet Ringo never hankers for a trip to the new National Wildflower
Centre either. And he has his own boat; he doesn’t need a ferry, which,
let’s face it, is just a bus on water, the SS Public Transport.
I’ve been to a capital of cutlery (sorry, culture) before. It was rubbish.
It was in Cork, which is a fantastic little city with great restaurants,
very walkable – altogether the sort of place you could live happily.* But
(a) Capital of Culture? I think not.
Not that we didn’t give it a try. I had a tour around Cork’s new street
lights on the shopping street (“of course, we’re running a little late on
those, wouldn’t you know”) – picking my way through mounds of rubble
and complicated wiring. It gave me a real sense of what CoC funding
actually brings to a winning city: chaos.
The real test is in the events, you say? I thought so too, so I shook the
wet cement off my Converse All-Stars and headed off to the
centrepiece exhibition: Treasures of Cork.
It was full of spoons.
The spoons were made of silver and so could, technically, be described
as ‘treasure’ by a lawyer who really wanted to be punched. Nonetheless,
a certain… predictability does creep in at the nineteenth spoon. At the
second, come to that.
I’m sure Cork’s long and proud silversmithing traditions are both long and
proud, at least as long and proud as Liverpool’s traditions of transporting
slaves and stealing car radios. But an exhibition devoted to the subtle
differences in tine angle between forks is not a continent-wide event.
Later that afternoon, we sat over cake, examining our teaspoons with
new eyes.
“There must be something good on tonight.”
Riffle of programme.
“Nah.”
“Bugger. Still, look at the bevelling on this teaspoon.”
The problem’s not with Liverpool. It’s that Liverpool’s too damn good to
be awarded CoC status.
I mean, face facts, Liverpool does have some great museums and
galleries, all with really magnificent security systems; several great
musical acts have earned enough money here to leave and never return:
these are world-class accomplishments. What is Liverpool doing riding off
the back of a two-bit EU snorefest?
Consider this: there were two winners this year, Liverpool and Stavanger.
What do you mean, what Stavanger? Stavanger, Norway, you poor sap.
The Stavanger that explained why it was qualified for European City of
Culture with the memorable words “Stavanger: Open Port”.
Yes, it’s a port. Where boats come. Which is almost exactly the same as
being a vibrant cultural hub where many influences coalesce in bold new
creative energies. So far they mostly just have the boats. Also the
Norwegian Petroleum Museum. So you can see how the judges couldn’t
choose between Liverpool and Stavanger.
Liverpudlians are so happy to have won, they haven’t noticed the prize
wasn’t worth having. When the glow wears off, they’ll realise they’ve
won the Eurovision song contest for cities. Expect to see locals wearing
fake tans, shiny clothes and too short skirts... oh wait, they already…
THE LIZARD APOLOGISES FOR THIS INTERRUPTION. WE’RE SORRY;
WE’VE HAD THE WRITER GASSED. PLEASE DON’T MAKE US COME TO
LIVERPOOL.
© lizardmagazine.com, 2008
Also see:
BACK TO THE HOMEPAGE
| CONTACT THE LIZARD |
| Updated at least 26½ times a day |
| Marc Sidwell is not joking |