Waiting Space

With production coming to an end in 2008, the Spode pottery works now sits largely derelict at the heart of Stoke-on-Trent. One or two buildings have been repurposed and a few demolished, but the majority of the city-like site is subject to decay at various rates. It feels abandoned and forgotten, with the fabric of the buildings and objects left behind traces of the activities and life which once occupied the myriad spaces. Weather has been eroding and peeling back the layers and nature is slowing taking over. There is a strange quietness which hangs inside and in between the buildings; almost like they are waiting for something to happen. The exposed construction and direct nature of the redundant buildings lends a sense of realness to this fascinating place.

In, For an Architecture of Reality, Michael Benedikt describes four components of realness: PRESENCE, SIGNIFICANCE, MATERIALITY, EMPTINESS. These four ideas, we feel, help capture the sense of place and atmosphere of the derelict Spode Works.

PRESENCE

The expanse of the site and the solid nature of the once industrial buildings, lend the Spode Works a sense of presence. All of our senses are engaged as we experience the place. Materials and textures are manifest and tangible; the sounds of dripping water and the flap of a pigeon’s wings echo through the quiet spaces; the dustiness and mustiness of decay fill the air. This place cannot easily be ignored. Yet, at the same time, it has lost something of its confidence and assertiveness. The hustle and bustle of industry and community are gone. It has become a quiet place. It whispers now, instead of shouting.

SIGNIFICANCE

For over 200 years, Spode had great significance as one of the largest potteries in Staffordshire, and employing around 1000 people. Since the industry declined and production at the site ceased, its original reason for being has gone. The highly functional, once productive buildings no longer have a function. However, Spode retains a significant place in the memories of the families that once worked at the site and in the history of the city which was built around the ceramics industry. Traces of industrial activities and the lives of the workers found in the fabric of the building are physical mementos of the factory’s significant past. Crumbling walls reveal the outlines of long-lost floors and staircases. Soot-stained brickwork recalls the heat of fires extinguished years ago. Worn thresholds bear the imprint of thousands of footsteps. Memories are held here, but it is not a sentimental place.

MATERIALITY

The materiality of the redundant buildings is an innate part of our experience of this place; a place which surrounds us with an abundance of textures. A gentle light enters through broken, cloudy windows and the gaps where roof coverings are missing, highlighting the patterns of bricks, tiles, cobbles and corrugations. Faces, once smooth, are flaking and crumbling; metal patinates and rusts, staining surfaces below; nature is creeping in through cracks and taking hold in the crevices; redundant cables entwine with plant roots and tendrils. Weathering and decay are slowly peeling back the layers and revealing the anatomy of structures. Every wall and floor is a palimpsest. Each layer contains fragments of memories and residues of past lives, once covered over and hidden by new layers, and now being revealed again and erased as the buildings erode.

EMPTINESS

A sense of emptiness fills the derelict spaces. Silence, clarity and stillness hang in the atmosphere, as if the spaces are patiently waiting for something; as if somebody left, saying “I’ll be back soon,” but never returned. The forgotten buildings are growing sad, but they wait, still, in hope, for life to revive this place. Stacked at one end of a space in the old factory are hundreds of white plaster moulds, waiting to be filled with clay slip; hollow and empty, but filled with the promise of casting a new plate, cup or bowl. In the same way, the dormant buildings, although physically empty, contain a latent promise, waiting to be filled again with life and activity. The Japanese word, Ma, relates to the concept of negative space: the gaps between things are valued as much as the stuff that defines them, importance is given to the silence of pauses between the notes in a piece of music, the emptiness of an interior enhances the appreciation of the temporary experiences and momentary gatherings that take place within it. Perhaps this concept helps to explain the feeling of promise and potential we experience visiting these forgotten spaces. We stand in the empty space and start to imagine a positive future for the place – we imagine the PRESENCE the place would have, if only it had new SIGNIFICANCE and the decay was halted so that the MATERIALITY could continue to hold onto the memories and tell us stories of the past. But how long can these spaces hang on? They are growing tired of waiting.

Image references

^{01 - 04} Spode works. Images: ALT-Architecture