shewhomust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shewhomust) wrote2018-04-03 10:33 am
shewhomust) wrote2018-04-03 10:33 am
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Sunday in Sunderland
We decided we needed a day out over the long weekend, and the forecast was the Sunday was our best bet. This - with the caveat that the weather wasn't brilliant, but that the rest of the weekend was worse - turned out to be the case. durham_rambler asked me where I wanted to go, and since I didn't have anything in particular in mind, I gave him my default answer: the seaside! He had come across references to some additional sculptures in the vicinity of the St Peter's Basin sculpture trail, and we decided this was a clue worth pursuing (spoiler: only approximately true, in both respects - but if we didn't find what we were expecting, we found things we weren't expecting...). Plan A was to head for St Peter's metro, and walk along the river from there to the sea - with a detour on the way in to Sunderland to see if we could get a decent view of the new river crossing (not really: you can see the spire from all over, but getting close would have been more of a diversion than we wanted). Down to the river and under the bridge:
We poked about a bit, and admired the mural across the river, marking the site of one of the many shipyards which are no longer there:
The tide was out, and there were gulls and a lone redshank poking about in the mud, but we were soon on very familiar territory. These sculptures are old friends:
and the sky had gone beyond ominous to an actual shower of snow. Here, right on cue, was the Glass Centre, and we called in for a comfort break and visit to the shop - we also had a quick look at the temporary exhibition, narrowly escaped being ensnared by the permanent exhibition (about the history of glass-making on Wearside) and stocked up on greeting cards (by Northumberland artist Carol Nunan, new to me and with an irritating website which makes it hard to link to specific images). Over coffee and wifi, we decided to switch to Plan B, and head back upriver in search of sculptures, and drive out to the coast when we'd had enough of that. We had at least by7 now sat out the worst of the weather, and there were even some signs of spring along our path:
Further along, peering up the steep banks of the river, in case that was where the elusive sculpture was lurking, no sculpture but this monumental structure:
The internet tells me that nothing remains of Wearmouth Colliery, that its memorial is the Stadium of Light built on the site of what was, when it began producing coal in 1835, the deepest mine in the world, and was the last deep coal mine of the County Durham coalfield to close. We saw various plaques and markers along this stretch of the river, so someone has clearly put some effort into a memorial which is now quite neglected, a canvas for graffiti and a place to drop litter and what looked like a stolen handbag (brand new, but empty).
Further on, there are limekilns:
We had evidently overshot, so we took the next path up, away from the river to the main road, and into the car park of the Stadium of Light itself. Here, finally, we were able to lean over the edge, to see Graeme Hopper's Men of Steel had at work:
I have a soft spot for Graeme Hopper's work, but I can see why you might want to hide this one way. The conceit is that these figures, all different, represent steel men pushing boulders of coal uphill, in homage to the generations of miners who worked at Wearmouth Colliery. Il faut imaginer Sisyphe heureux.
There's a fair amount of sculpture around the Stadium of Light. In addition to the inevitable colliery wheel, I liked this tribute to the fans (looking happier than the average Sunderland supporter):
We paused here to rest, and observe the wedding celebrations which were in progress. then back to the car, out to Roker and a late lunch of sandwiches at the Pier Point café, with a view out along the pier to the lighthouse. The pier was closed, so we had an excuse not to walk all the way out. Time to come home.
durham_rambler asked me where I wanted to go, and since I didn't have anything in particular in mind, I gave him my default answer: the seaside! He had come across references to some additional sculptures in the vicinity of the St Peter's Basin sculpture trail, and we decided this was a clue worth pursuing (spoiler: only approximately true, in both respects - but if we didn't find what we were expecting, we found things we weren't expecting...). Plan A was to head for St Peter's metro, and walk along the river from there to the sea - with a detour on the way in to Sunderland to see if we could get a decent view of the new river crossing (not really: you can see the spire from all over, but getting close would have been more of a diversion than we wanted). Down to the river and under the bridge:We poked about a bit, and admired the mural across the river, marking the site of one of the many shipyards which are no longer there:
The tide was out, and there were gulls and a lone redshank poking about in the mud, but we were soon on very familiar territory. These sculptures are old friends:
and the sky had gone beyond ominous to an actual shower of snow. Here, right on cue, was the Glass Centre, and we called in for a comfort break and visit to the shop - we also had a quick look at the temporary exhibition, narrowly escaped being ensnared by the permanent exhibition (about the history of glass-making on Wearside) and stocked up on greeting cards (by Northumberland artist Carol Nunan, new to me and with an irritating website which makes it hard to link to specific images). Over coffee and wifi, we decided to switch to Plan B, and head back upriver in search of sculptures, and drive out to the coast when we'd had enough of that. We had at least by7 now sat out the worst of the weather, and there were even some signs of spring along our path:
Further along, peering up the steep banks of the river, in case that was where the elusive sculpture was lurking, no sculpture but this monumental structure:
The internet tells me that nothing remains of Wearmouth Colliery, that its memorial is the Stadium of Light built on the site of what was, when it began producing coal in 1835, the deepest mine in the world, and was the last deep coal mine of the County Durham coalfield to close. We saw various plaques and markers along this stretch of the river, so someone has clearly put some effort into a memorial which is now quite neglected, a canvas for graffiti and a place to drop litter and what looked like a stolen handbag (brand new, but empty).
Further on, there are limekilns:
We had evidently overshot, so we took the next path up, away from the river to the main road, and into the car park of the Stadium of Light itself. Here, finally, we were able to lean over the edge, to see Graeme Hopper's Men of Steel had at work:
I have a soft spot for Graeme Hopper's work, but I can see why you might want to hide this one way. The conceit is that these figures, all different, represent steel men pushing boulders of coal uphill, in homage to the generations of miners who worked at Wearmouth Colliery. Il faut imaginer Sisyphe heureux.
There's a fair amount of sculpture around the Stadium of Light. In addition to the inevitable colliery wheel, I liked this tribute to the fans (looking happier than the average Sunderland supporter):
We paused here to rest, and observe the wedding celebrations which were in progress. then back to the car, out to Roker and a late lunch of sandwiches at the Pier Point café, with a view out along the pier to the lighthouse. The pier was closed, so we had an excuse not to walk all the way out. Time to come home.