This urban scene finds us heading down Great Ancoats Street in Manchester. I keep remembering it as grey, maybe that’s because my mood was grey, returning home from Manchester after a funeral. These things colour your mood, and yet it’s a scene that bristles with life, ordinary, everyday life in a northern town, to quote a song. A song that repeats in my mind as I look at this urban painting. Full of details and colours: Cracks, flaws, dirt, missed lines in the masking process, the Pay and Display sign at the car-park entrance.
Like the man standing on the street corner and watching the world go by, we’re onlookers, not part of the drama. A reality performance seen through a dusty car window. The only thing missing is sound, but then, I imagine the sounds. The wailing sirens, a rumble of engines and occasional horn blast, with the hiss of brakes, and maybe even the revving of a motorbike as it weaves between the stationary traffic.
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