A dozen zebra finches perch on a Gibson Les Paul, their rapid movements causing twangs and not wholly unmelodic chords to fill the air. Far from this being the result of a drunken band member leaving his electric guitar on a park bench, the whole event has been orchestrated by an artist – morsels of food have been strategically placed for the little birds to alight and create the sounds which become music to the ears of those passing by. This curious installation was to be found at the Curve Gallery at the Barbican Centre in 2010, a fine example of the venue’s quest to show original art and offer visitors unique experiences. Despite looking like a particularly shoddy airport from the outside to some (it was even voted London’s ugliest building in a 2003 poll) or an example of modernist, concrete beauty to others, this tremendous centre for the arts is the largest of its kind in Europe, however the road to its construction was plagued with problems, and the history of its surroundings has been a somewhat shady one.
The word ‘barbican’ means outpost, or fortification; the wall that once protected London was built by the Romans and today’s Barbican estate would have been positioned just outside it. A section of the wall can still be seen in St. Alphage Garden, near Moorgate tube station. The area known as the ‘Barbican’ became populous in the 13th century, when the local industry was brewing - records show there were over 70 breweries in the area.
That is not to say the region was prosperous – quite the contrary, Barbican was a notorious slum, where animal carcasses, rotting food and excrement (there were no luxurious flushable toilets of course) was routinely tossed onto the streets, which lacked drains. The only saving grace was the British weather, as when it rained it would clear the roads, dragging the debris into Fleet Ditch (where Fleet Street is today).
Being located outside the city walls meant that people could operate with a certain degree of lawlessness: merchants dealt with stolen goods and fake jewellery; there was gambling and petty crime, forgers, fortune tellers and prostitutes plied their trade here – after all this was the City of London’s red light district in the 18th century. Much worse was the humiliation suffered by the mentally handicapped purely for the entertainment of passersby, patients from the Bethlehem Hospital for Lunatics in Moorgate would be forced to pose in cages in public. In short, it was a far from idyllic neighbourhood.
\n\nDuring the 17th century Barbican became populated with what were then known as ‘hack’ writers, i.e. writers who wrote on commission for a living and who were generally looked down on by other scribes, however William Shakespeare spent a few years living on Monkwell Street, a road which now lies buried underneath the Barbican estate.
Things would come to a head when The Great Plague (swiftly followed by the Great Fire) killed off much of the population, making Barbican an even more destitute area as wealthier residents moved to new accommodation and the poorest stayed behind. It continued to be a slum up until Victorian times, when the combination of railway companies buying up properties, improved street lighting and businesses moving in made the area more commercial and less residential - in the early 20th century only 630 residents remained. Then on 29th December 1940, the entire stretch from Moorgate to Aldersgate Street was devastated by heavy bombing.
Barbican was mostly a pile of rubble and would remain that way for nearly 20 years, till the Corporation of London suggested building a residential estate, an idea that proved controversial due to the fashion at the time for people to live away from the inner city and commute into work. An initial proposal was to construct American-style office blocks intermingled with flats, leaving the buildings that had not been destroyed in the war to be left for the perusal of local office workers in their lunch hour (Ooh! Let’s sit and savour our cucumber sandwiches by the old Coal Exchange).
Eventually the architects Chamberlin, Powell and Bon were given the task of rebuilding the area. Their plans included a concert space and theatre for the nearby Guildhall School of Music and Drama, however the idea of constructing a fully fledged arts centre didn’t materialise for another 20 years. Construction of the actual Barbican centre began in 1971, and it would take a further 12 years for it to be ready to be unveiled to the public. \n\nIt cost a humungous £156 million (the equivalent of £500 million today) and had its teething problems – there were complaints regarding the acoustics of the Barbican Hall, the fact that the heating had to be pumped down from the ceiling, that it was a labyrinthine mess and of course, that the building was one of the city’s greatest eyesores, it could in fact be said that it was the Millenium Dome of its day.
Unlike its predecessor however, its ambition to provide a diverse programme of the arts has proved to be highly successful; where else in the world will you catch one of the most comprehensive exhibitions of Surrealist art ever staged, the resident London Symphony Orchestra performing Beethoven’s 7th, a screening of The Godfather and a panto performance of Jack and the Beanstalk all under one roof? What other venue can accommodate almost 2,000 people in its (now acoustically wonderful) concert hall, contains three theatres, three art galleries, three restaurants, a mesmerising music library, seven conference facilities and a rooftop conservatory?
Even their food offering is now highly appetising, gone are the days of soggy Brie and marmite sandwiches, instead the Barbican Lounge offers tapas-sized versions of braised oxtail with pappardelle, cheese fondue and pork belly. Its aesthetics and layout offend first timers, but spend time browsing through the Muse bookshop, wandering through the Curve and drinking coffee on the patio and you’ll soon develop an affection for this inspiring giant.
