A week or so ago when I was at the British Waterways Awards a groups of us started talking about how there ought to be award for the best demolition of the year. This would be given to the least loved building demolished that year… or to the building whose removal lead to the best redevelopment possible. There could be an award for accidental demolition or even if we were daring one for acts of terrorism that led to the destruction of buildings not people. I guess we started to get a bit serious then, but in the conversation was an unspoken realisation that before regeneration can happen often there has to be death.
It was the same in this valley: in the 1960’s World in action made a film about this valley called Requiem which was a documentary about how this valley was dying. After the end of the textile industry it certainly looked like it, but after death came life, and now thriving life, most of which would have been impossible without that earlier time of death.
Today is Good Friday and so inevitably thoughts turn to a death. That death too seemed like an end, but it wasn’t, it was a beginning.
Death before renaissance.
We should never be afraid of endings.
It may be Friday but Sunday's coming...
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