I spent another evening with my photographer friends—this time in Manchester’s edgy Northern Quarter. For those unfamiliar with the Northern Quarter, it’s the run-down area north of Piccadilly, which has been adopted by all the cool shops and bars and hip trend-setting Mancunians. It’s on the up, and what it loses in rough edges, it gains on street cred and plain old grooviness. Think Camden with Black Pudding.
The plan was to scour the streets of the area between passé Piccadilly Gardens, laid-back Lever Street, swaggy Swan Street and trendy Tib Street. Our reward, as always, was a couple of pints of the good stuff and a lot of armchair photography.
There was quite a lot of street art to capture, but like any sort of art, if felt dangerously like cheating to photograph somebody else’s toil. It still didn’t stop me though.
The further north we went, the more scary-looking the buildings became. At one stage I thought I’d been slipped something strong and had fallen into a Lego box.
Despite the Artisan atmosphere of the place, there was still the feeling of impending commercialisation, with big shops and office blocks edging their way into the district.
Still, as one of the wall decorations says: On the sixth day, God created MANchester. Allegedly.