Search results

You are looking at 1 - 10 of 16 items for :

  • Human Geography x
  • Refine by access: All content x
Clear All
Abstract only
Becky Alexis-Martin

Manchester: Something rich and strange Radium – Becky Alexis-Martin Nestled between carefully conserved cotton mills and glimmering new developments in Ancoats is a little road named Radium Street. It is unusual for any place to be named after a radioactive element, beyond the confines of military ‘closed cities’ where nuclear weapons are manufactured. Radium Street was originally called German Street, after a German toy importer’s warehouse that was located in the area. The street was renamed after the First World War to conceal its Teutonic heritage, and to

in Manchester
Trevor Barnes

work on a nuclear-war atlas that warned against the ultimate catastrophe, atomic Armageddon, the end of human life as we know it. Bill Bunge, spatial science and map transformations Bunge’s first exposure to formal geographical talk was in 1951. Conscripted for the Korean War, serving in the American Fifth Army, deployed at the Chemical, Biological and Radiological Wartime School at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Bunge (1988 , xi) taught there what he later called ‘atomic war’. It was also while he was enlisted in the US military that he enrolled in his first class in

in The power of pragmatism
Abstract only
Becky Alexis-Martin

, peace. It began when Ernest Rutherford split the atom at the University of Manchester in 1917. Rutherford described his particle physics as ‘moonshine’, never envisaging that his work would provide the science to create weapons of mass destruction (see also ‘Atom’, p. 295).1 He died on 19 October 1937. Eight years later, the first atom bomb was tested in Alamogordo; then, on 6 August 1945, ‘Little Boy’ was dropped on the city of Hiroshima. This nuclear attack killed approximately 100,000 people and changed the nature of warfare. It precipitated an international

in Manchester
Abstract only
Something rich and strange

Manchester: Something rich and strange challenges us to see the quintessential post-industrial city in new ways. Bringing together twenty-three diverse writers and a wide range of photographs of Greater Manchester, it argues that how we see the city can have a powerful effect on its future – an urgent question given how quickly the urban core is being transformed. The book uses sixty different words to speak about the diversity of what we think of as Manchester – whether the chimneys of its old mills, the cobbles mostly hidden under the tarmac, the passages between terraces, or the everyday act of washing clothes in a laundrette. Unashamedly down to earth in its focus, this book makes the case for a renewed imaginative relationship that recognises and champions the fact that we’re all active in the making and unmaking of urban spaces.

This book explores contemporary urban experiences connected to practices of sharing and collaboration. Part of a growing discussion on the cultural meaning and the politics of urban commons, it uses examples from Europe and Latin America to support the view that a world of mutual support and urban solidarity is emerging today in, against, and beyond existing societies of inequality. In such a world, people experience the potentialities of emancipation activated by concrete forms of space commoning. By focusing on concrete collective experiences of urban space appropriation and participatory design experiments this book traces differing, but potentially compatible, trajectories through which common space (or space-as-commons) becomes an important factor in social change. In the everydayness of self-organized neighborhoods, in the struggles for justice in occupied public spaces, in the emergence of “territories in resistance,” and in dissident artistic practices of collaborative creation, collective inventiveness produces fragments of an emancipated society.

Abstract only
Steve Hanson

which irrevocably changed the face of the world. 76  (Opposite) View across Hulme showing areas cleared for redevelopment – taken from the extension to the Manchester College of Art and Design (the current Chatham Building) around 1966 295 Manchester: Something rich and strange The move into the nuclear age can be tracked through a couple of generations and one family, on this site. Clearly this is an exceptional situation, but it gives an indication of the extent to which all that is solid did melt here during late modernity. On the wall of the Rutherford Building

in Manchester
Abstract only
Nick Dunn

for myself, defying the river’s current by travelling back up over the weir’s edge, but it must be quite a sight. That this edge of Manchester now teems with even more life, connecting the city to the vast seas beyond, is a useful reminder of just how permeable borders and edges are. No mere frozen lines on a map, they are dynamic forcefields for the identity of place and its people. 262 68  Outline of a ginkgo leaf superimposed on a map of Manchester showing anticipated damage from a nuclear bomb attack

in Manchester
Abstract only
Peter Kalu

raddled, grande dame of all the other boreholes: the tunnels linking Manchester’s civil servants’ nuclear bunkers, the abandoned digs for never-built cross-city underground, cross-city rail networks, the lithesome, pretty blue, coiling water pipes, the snaking phone and internet trunk ways, the yellow-piped gas ways, the concrete culverts channelling marauding storm waters. The sewers were an engineering solution that triumphed over slopping out – that wonderful tradition of flinging pails of faeces and piss out of an upper window onto the heads of those passing in rags

in Manchester
Jenny Pickerill

broader lifestyle choices and the extent to which they have chosen to, or are able to, make sacrifices: ‘It depends on what you’re trying to do, if you’re trying to change things then I think it’s okay to use stuff like high technology and things that are around at the moment. But if you’re trying to live a lifestyle that is totally green, I don’t [think it’s okay]’ (Peat, Lyminge Forest). Thus, while Jon Ivar (former list co-ordinator at GSN) regarded himself (as one who has campaigned for sustainable transport and an end to nuclear power) as a deep ecologist who

in Cyberprotest
Stavros Stavrides

for the poor working-class families by explicitly enhancing family values and the “autonomy” of a nuclear sociality. Thus, shared spaces were mainly only approached as necessary organizational areas which would accommodate circulation and direct access to private apartments rather than as encounter places which would enhance sociality and collectivity. Staircases were, in most cases, merely staircase-wells for vertical movement. And outdoor spaces were in many cases left un- or under-designed, thus often becoming a no-man’s land. An important change may be observed

in Common spaces of urban emancipation