Brick Lane also spans the main railway line into Liverpool street station. The splendid iron bridge over this artery has hosted thousands of fly posters that have changed on a weekly basis. I’ve always regarded this part of the lane as quite special because of the dominance of the tall iron surrounds and absence of buildings. The neatly sectioned compartments of the bridge have proved to be a natural resting place for posters of all kinds. Attempts to remove this organic free gallery have added to its appeal as different images and words end up colliding with each other to produce accidental collage of the highest order.
As well as being a visual thermometer of events and music away from the mainstream it has proved itself as a welcome resting place for agitprop.
This lady caught my eye after I emerged from Liverpool Street station early one evening in 1989. Her gaze appeared to be fixed on buildings accross Bishopsgate which are reflected by the glass of the restaurant. Her handbag next to the discarded burger container and cup is an accidental still life that perhaps hints at her precarious life. Bishopsgate was originally the location of many coaching inns which accommodated passengers setting out on the Old North Road.
Bishopsgate is characterised by people rushing to and from work and home. My subject sits gracefully apart from the world of work and deadlines. She is most likely pleased with the warmth provided by her window seat. A closer examination of her right hand reveals a cigarette that has been allowed to burn undisturbed for some time. Is she really studying the street or is her mind somewhere else?
A brass plate advertising what is available in a coffee shop opposite Liverpool Street station. Combined with the reflections we have a fusion which heralds the fact that we are now in cappucino land. Since 1998 coffee shops have sprung up on Whitechapel Road and Brick Lane.
This gentleman is about to enter Brick Lane from Grimsby Street. He has just bought some second hand clothes from one of the many make shift stalls which appeared on Sundays. The inner tube he is holding suggests a puncture which might account for his forlorn expression.
This trendy cyclist is going the wrong way down Brick Lane.
The police officer is hurrying up Brick Lane to join colleagues at the start of a demonstration organised to stop the deportation of Afia Begum to Bangladesh. After her husband was killed in a fire she was deported despite protests. The children on their bikes joined the back of the demonstration which eventually ended outside the small police station next to Heneage Street.
An accidental juxtaposition of coloured lights and bikes outside a shop in Brick Lane.