Accidental Brasilian Constructivism

It was not the first time that a concerned looking stranger had asked me why I was I taking  photographs of something that had no obvious merits. I have a soft spot for industrial architecture and infrastructure, that with notable exceptions like Victorian pumping stations dressed as castles, advertise their function without pretension. This is the architecture of making things, of energy production and communication. Primeval cooling towers that float above the flat lands, rusted pitheads of strangulated steel that speak of lost cultures, majestic electricity pylons that march into the horizon, and a particular favourite of mine, and Lenin as its happens, the Shukhov radio tower in Moscow (1919), an elegant lattice steel structure built to broadcast the goals of the revolution. Sadly, in Glasgow’s mad rush to rebrand itself, much of its grand industrial heritage was demolished. The Harland and Wolff shipyards and the Granary building were two such treasures that with a little imagination could have found a new lease of life, as have the bings, cranes and factories of the Ruhr valley that were reborn in the 1990s as public parks. This modest electricity substation and telecommunications centre is situated around the corner from my flat and I am sure that most people walk past the grilled openings, concrete frame and terracotta brick without a second thought. I however would have it listed as a fine example of ‘Brasilian Constructivism,’  that when  decommissioned would make for a great climbing centre, multi-storied night club or hollowed out, a dark sky observatory.